Chapter 21

Heavy footsteps broke the silence of Vellevin Palace, which had been as quiet as a mouse. The pace quickened, giving a sense of urgency.  

At last, the footsteps stopped. The sound of the door being flung open replaced them. Albina Vellevin was sitting beyond the door.  

“…Your Majesty.”  

She called out to the man who entered, her eyes red. Lev didn’t answer and walked toward her. Albina turned her head instead of rising.  

“It was your doing, wasn’t it?”  

Her refusal to look at him was enough. Lev raised one eyebrow.  

“Do you know what you’ve done?”  

“I know better than anyone.”  

Albina finally met Lev’s eyes and answered.  

“I tried to eliminate someone who would bring disaster to our homeland.”  

She muttered regretfully, admitting her failure. Lev let out a dry breath.  

“You did this without even consulting me?”  

“I thought you’d oppose it.”  

“If the King of Murk had died, it would have been war immediately!”  

Lev slammed his fist on the table between them, shouting.  

“War! Don’t you realize the gravity of that?”  

“It’s a war we’d have to fight sooner or later.”  

Since ‘that event,’ Lev Arbat had never been angry at Albina. Even so, Albina remained calm.  

“Do you think Hokon Murk will leave Arbat alone? Never! Once he pacifies the north, he’ll surely covet the south, too.”  

Requesting peace and inviting him to Arbat should not be taken lightly.  

If he wanted friendship, he should have sent gifts—not invaded and taken hostages.  

“What’s the point of temporary peace when the danger remains? I made this decision for the country.”  

“So you gave them the justification for war first?”  

“Who knows if it’ll be war or civil war.”  

Albina shrugged in response.  

“Hokon hasn’t named an heir yet. Whoever it is, they won’t be more formidable than that monster. This was the only chance to kill him.”  

Lev was silent for a moment. If he claimed he hadn’t considered Albina’s plan, it would be a lie.  

But he didn’t go through with it—not because of lofty values like duty, justice, or conscience.  

“If my father hadn’t been King, I might have respected that decision. Arbat can’t afford a war right now.”  

Lev’s voice, breaking the silence, was calm—almost cold.  

“What we need is time. Time to build an army strong enough to repel Murk or anyone else. If Hokon Murk dies, another Hokon Murk will be born. Will you try to kill him every time?”  

Albina bit her lip, but Lev continued his rebuke.  

“Your perspective is too narrow.”  

Albina chose silence instead of arguing. Lev glared at her sharply for a moment, then ended the conversation.  

“I hope there won’t be any more mistakes like this. Even you crossed the line this time.”  

Lev turned his back and left. Even though his purpose for coming was resolved, his steps were still hurried.  

He stopped at a fork in the road—one path led to the Queen’s palace, the other to the central palace.

“Nadia Turik?”  

Lev checked the situation before moving. Anton, who had been watching the King carefully, hesitated and answered.  

“The wound is deep, but she avoided a vital spot. She’s very lucky…”  

“She’s always lucky.”  

Lev muttered, twisting his lips.  

“She survived when her mother and siblings died, too.”  

Anton didn’t dare respond. Based on his experience serving Lev, he knew the King’s mood was very low. If he got caught up in it, it could be disastrous.  

He understood. Albina had acted alone for the first time—and it nearly caused a war.  

“Anyway, thanks to Her Majesty, Murk won’t think Arbat’s royal family was behind it. The King of Murk is safe, too.”  

“What about the dancer?”  

“She bit her tongue and took her own life right after the attack.”  

Albina had chosen an extremely loyal assassin. Lev let out a dry laugh. There would be an investigation, but with the culprit dead, nothing meaningful would come of it.  

Even after hearing everything he wanted, Lev didn’t move, as if unable to decide.  

Meanwhile, dark clouds gathered above him. The sky grew dark, and soon rain began to fall, the first drops landing on Lev’s forehead.  

Anton hurriedly opened a black umbrella and held it over Lev. The rain quickly turned into a downpour, drumming fiercely on the ground.  

In the rain, Lev recalled a memory.  

Nadia Turik, sitting on the ground without dignity, trembling in fear. Nadia Turik, afraid of rain that wouldn’t scare even a child.  

Nadia Turik, so pitiful it was almost pathetic.  

She wouldn’t collapse at the sight of this rain anymore, so maybe things were better now. He walked on, toward the central palace.

“Won’t you go to the Queen’s palace?”  

Anton asked carefully. Lev replied in a casual voice,  

“She’s not dead, is she?”  

As if that meant there was no problem, Anton almost felt hurt himself. But he quickly decided it was a silly thought and said nothing more.

“Send someone to the King of Murk. Tell him there was no royal intent behind this incident, but express our regret.”  

“Understood.”  

Lev then stopped caring about Nadia. She hadn’t died, so she would wake up eventually. Deep wounds would heal and leave only a faint scar.  

There was no reason to fuss over something time would solve. Even if he went to see an unconscious woman, there was nothing he could do.

***

“Your Majesty.”  

It was the next evening. Anton came to Lev with a dark expression, a paper corner between his fingers. Lev looked at him.  

“There’s news that Her Majesty is in critical condition.”  

“How bad?”  

Lev didn’t understand what “critical” meant. Anton was momentarily stunned, then explained in detail.  

“She’s had a fever since morning that won’t go down. It’s been high for so long that tonight is the turning point…”  

“……”  

“You may need to prepare yourself.”  

Anton’s expression was serious, but his tone wasn’t particularly worried. Coldly, maybe it was better if the Queen died.  

She’d lost her whole family in the coup, and now her death would perfectly cover up yesterday’s scandal.  

So, even if the news of her death arrived…

“Your Majesty.”  

Anton was startled when the King suddenly stood up. Of course, Anton knew the King’s reason for marrying the Queen.  

“Shall I escort you to the Queen’s palace?”  

He’d expected Lev to be completely unmoved by news of her death. Was he actually worried? It was surprising.

“If she dies tonight, I should see it.”  

Anton’s mouth dropped open at Lev’s answer. He immediately understood.  

Lev had insisted on witnessing the execution of his father, stepmother, and half-brother. He would act no differently toward Agnesa’s daughter.  

Anton escorted Lev to the Queen’s palace. The King’s steps were a bit faster than usual. Was he anxious about missing her final moments? It almost seemed so.

When they finally arrived, the first thing Anton saw was the unexpectedly grim expression of Olga Ryabova.  

Anyone who didn’t know would think the maid, who had served the late Queen, was worried about Turik’s death.  

But seeing Olga’s relief as soon as the King arrived, Anton thought maybe her feelings were similar to Lev’s.  

Madame Ryabova was worried the Queen might die before the King could witness it. Anton was moved by Olga’s loyalty.

“How is she?”  

Olga closed her eyes and shook her head. A faint wrinkle appeared on Lev’s brow. He went straight to the Queen’s bedroom.

The room was empty of palace physicians. They knew the Queen’s situation, and didn’t feel compelled to save her at all costs.  

Nadia Turik lay on the bed like a corpse. Her chest was wrapped in bandages like plaster, blood seeping through the white cloth, hinting at the severity of her wound.  

If she died like this, it would be a lonely death, not befitting a Queen. Anton felt a bit of human pity.

“Why is no one here?”  

The voice was annoyed—it was the King’s. Anton wondered for a moment if Lev felt the same as he did.  

But surely it was a foolish mistake. The late Queen had died even more alone. How could he think such a thing?  

Anton quickly shook his head to clear his mind.