A few days later, the funeral was held modestly.

The private funeral was to conclude with a simple service and the coffins being loaded onto a carriage to leave the palace.

Only Carlos, the priest who would offer prayers, and a few people who closely served the king and queen attended the funeral.

Ines, who could be considered the most important person, did not attend the funeral in the end. Not only was it difficult for her to move around, but she also didn’t want to participate in the funeral.

After the short prayer for the deceased ended, Carlos, who had left the chapel, watched as two coffins were loaded onto the carriage. Starting with Llewellyn’s coffin, when a very small coffin was loaded together, Carlos’s expression darkened.

Just as the palace servants were about to close the carriage door containing the coffins.

“…Wait.”

Carlos, who had been watching, stopped them. Then he approached the carriage and stroked the smallest coffin in the world with his hand. His touch, slowly caressing the coffin, was filled with numbness. He too was equally saddened by the child’s death.

Though he felt a despair too deep to be expressed by the word ‘sad’, he didn’t show it. Because he knew Ines would be the one most heartbroken by these two deaths. Having lost both her mother and a child she never got to hold, her grief would be beyond words.

Therefore, he tried his best to restrain his emotions about the death before him in front of others. Being a king before being a father, he had to swallow his grief over losing his child alone.

But thinking this was the last farewell to his child made it too difficult to let go easily. Carlos, endlessly caressing the coffin, continuously apologized to his dead child.

‘I’m sorry.’

It pained him deeply that he had failed to protect his child as a father. He found it hard to lift his head before them, feeling that this terrible tragedy was all his fault.

Perhaps because the moment had come to truly bid farewell to the child, the emotions he had been suppressing welled up.

He had only held his child for a few minutes. The child had ended its short life without even having nursed at its mother’s br*ast. His son, no less. It was too meaningless a death for the king’s son to face.

Despite being king, he hadn’t been able to protect anything. He could only watch his own child’s death before his eyes. While feeling utterly powerless, he was also filled with vengeful thoughts toward those who had created this situation.

Carlos, who had been stroking the coffin, clenched his fist. He squeezed so hard that the blood drained from his hand, turning it white.

“…Your Majesty.”

Jeff approached Carlos. It was an implicit signal that it was time to let go.

“Haa…”

Carlos, letting out a heavy sigh, stepped away from the coffin. As if they had been waiting, the carriage door closed and the wheels slowly began to turn.

Along with the sound of hooves, the carriage carrying the coffins slowly moved away from the palace.

It was then, as Carlos was endlessly watching the departing carriage, that Herman, who had been waiting until the funeral ended, carefully approached.

“Your Majesty, we’ve found Clarkson.”

Carlos turned his head at the familiar name. He was the knight who had disappeared while on duty guarding Llewellyn.

“Where was he found?”

“He was discovered hiding in his family’s territory.”

“Ha.”

Carlos let out a hollow laugh, as if dumbfounded by the news that he had been hiding in his territory. He had thought the man might be somewhere nursing his wounds, but the fact that he had been hiding without daring to show his face could only mean one thing.

‘He hid because he was guilty.’

Carlos’s eyes sharpened as he organized his thoughts.

“Lead the way.”

The place he followed Herman to was a small warehouse in the eastern underground. As soon as Carlos set foot there, he recognized Clarkson, who was tied up with ropes.

“Y-Your Majesty…!”

Upon seeing Carlos, Clarkson crawled on his knees and bowed his head to him.

“I-I don’t understand why I’m being held here. What misunderstanding has led you to…”

“Misunderstanding?”

Carlos snorted at Clarkson’s words.

“Right, what did I misunderstand? Go ahead and tell me. I’ll listen.”

Clarkson’s face brightened slightly at having a chance to explain himself. He swallowed once before beginning to speak.

“Th-that day when people broke into the house, I did my best to protect her. If it had been just one or two people, I could have handled it somehow at my level, but the entire village rose up and took her away. If Jeremy had been there then, the situation might have been different…”

He trailed off, pretending to be truly regretful. Carlos, looking down at such a Clarkson, asked.

“Are you saying it’s Jeremy’s fault for leaving his post?”

“Y-yes…! That could be said! If Jeremy had been there, she wouldn’t have met such a fate!”

Carlos let out a brief sigh at Clarkson’s excuse and continued.

“Jeremy, who heard the news late, still tried to save Llewellyn and is still bedridden. The same goes for Harrison who went as his replacement. But you…”

Carlos looked Clarkson up and down carefully.

“You look perfectly fine at a glance. Perhaps because you ran away without any thought of resistance?”

“Th-that’s…”

“If you had handled things properly from the start, things wouldn’t have gotten this bad. Then perhaps Llewellyn and my child… might have been safe.”

When the dead prince was mentioned from his lips, Clarkson’s face turned pale.

“Y-Your Majesty…!”

Clarkson opened his mouth to make more excuses, but as if there was no value in listening further, Carlos drew the sword the knight was holding. With a chilling sound, the sharp blade gleamed in the air.

“You disobeyed my orders and abandoned your post. This is no different from a knight deserting in war.”

Carlos continued while touching the sharp blade with his fingertips.

“And I have never failed to cut off the heads of those who have done such things.”

The blade was so sharp it seemed it could cut anyone’s neck with a single swing. Watching this, Clarkson pleaded in an urgent voice.

“P-please spare me, Your Majesty!”

“It’s too late, Clarkson.”

With those final words, Carlos swung the sword. As the blade cut through the air, there was a thud, something falling to the floor, and Clarkson’s body collapsed.

Red blood was dripping from the sword Carlos held. As he threw the sword to the floor, Herman, who had been watching from the side, quickly offered him a handkerchief.

Carlos gave orders while wiping the blood from his face.

“Bring in all of Marquis Descartes’s pawns who are causing trouble outside.”

“But we don’t have any particular grounds to arrest them…”

“If there aren’t any, can’t we create some?”

“…Understood.”

In his grief over losing his child, he vowed revenge. Of course, it wasn’t that he was without fault. However, before discussing his guilt, he intended to capture all those responsible for creating this situation.

They had killed his son, so shouldn’t they at least give up their lives?

With that thought, Carlos turned around. As he was heading to his office, he asked Herman.

“How is Ines?”

Because asking about Ines’s daily routine had become a habit, Herman unintentionally always kept track of her schedule.

“She said she was going to take a nap as she was tired.”

Carlos nodded as if understanding Herman’s report. Given the circumstances of the day, her mind must be troubled.

She probably needs time alone to sort out her feelings.

Still, Ines was holding up better than he had worried.

He heard that she wasn’t skipping meals and was slowly moving around to recover her health. Of course, for now that only meant walking around her room, but the doctor said Ines showed a will to recover.

How reassuring those words were. Moreover, the relationship between the two had softened somewhat compared to before. Ines, who had reacted like thorns on a rose, had become quite docile as if it had never happened. Although they couldn’t sit down to eat together yet because her body hadn’t fully recovered, she didn’t seem to mind his visits.

That fact alone made Carlos very pleased. Although the two had wounds that couldn’t be washed away, the pain would gradually dull with time.

They could have another child, and the absence of a loved one would be filled with something else.

‘Everything will be alright.’

Even if it took some time, everything would get better than it was now. As he organized his thoughts this way, a seed sprouted in his heart. A seed of hope that perhaps they could start everything anew.

—

T/N: “Everything will be alright” as his wife literally mourned the death of her mother and her child in the same week.