Chapter 54

TL/N : I decided to change a few names to be closer to the original spelling :)



Bastian's Secret



Celine, stunned, looked up at Llewellyn. She was showing no sign of anger nor mortification, even though she had just been struck twice by the princess. Instead, oddly enough, Celine had a strange expression on her face. Her eyes were twinkling, as if she were relishing being slapped, causing the maids to exchange furtive glances between each other.



The princess they had come to care for had such a sober expression on her face, that one could have believed that the little scene that had transpired a mere seconds ago had never happened.



“You used this dreadful situation as a pretext to attack the Queen! How are you any different from Pamela? If you knew the truth, you should have told me right away!”



“...”



"This way, we could have at least prevented the death of Miss Thanol!"



This was why Llewellyn had been relentless in her determination to reveal the truth. Even at that very moment, there were still people wearing clothes dyed with arsenic. Fortunately, most had been treated, but some people hadn’t been so lucky. For some, the shocking discovery had happened ten days too late.



Ten days. It was the time it had taken them to gather the necessary proofs. If Celine had told her beforehand, the daughter of Baron Thanol might still be alive.



She couldn't accept the fact that Celine had chosen to stand by and watch as people were dying, for the mere satisfaction of dealing a blow to Pamela. Llewellyn was obviously grateful that Celine had thought of her, but at the same time, her heart felt dreadfully cold. Life was fickle and irreversible – one couldn’t be brought back from the dead after all. Her mother had been a cruel reminder of that tragic truth, and with Death not playing favorites, no one shall be exempt.



Unfortunately, Celine was irremediably stuck in her aristocratic ways and had acted in accordance with her sheltered life. But her candid negligence had crossed the line that Llewellyn had drawn for herself, going against her own principles.



"Right. I hadn’t thought about that, Llewellyn.”



“…”



Celine lowered her head, covering her cheek with one hand. She looked somewhat dejected, prompting Llewellyn to let out a sigh. Of course she also knew that this matter couldn’t have been resolved without a single hitch. They hadn’t had much of a choice beside eliminating the problem from its root, and to do so, they had needed to make a big spectacle out of it. But because of that …



“See, this is exactly why I loved you…because you are the kind of person who cares.”



Oh god! Llewellyn flinched at Celine's choice of words, as the Countess raised her head. She, too, had noticed the solecism that had rendered her maids perplexed. The corners of Celine's mouth went up. She was looking at Llewellyn with a mournful expression as her cheeks were turning red.



W-was she a masochist?



Then she remembered why on some occasions, she had been reluctant to accept Celine as her friend : sometimes, after Llewellyn had chastised her, she would make that expression. Celine was the kind of person who enjoyed being scolded!



A shiver ran down her spine as she recalled this oddity for the first time after so long. Celine's breathing was rough, showing how exhilarated she was by this whole situation.



"Right. That’s why I loved you!"



“C-calm down!”



Llewellyn, worried about how it might look to others, dismissed her maids. Her prestige might already be irremediably tarnished, but her friend’s display of affection was an entirely different matter. Before leaving the room, Rosalie whispered into Llewellyn's ear,



“Princess, be sure to scream if anything happens.”



“…”



It seemed that Celine had already been branded as a pervert by her maids. Seeing that the maids had left, Celine's eyes lit up even more, before her expression turned serious again. Well intent on looking the part of Countess Sundblen, Celine whispered,



“You are Brigent’s only hope. Do you know how badly Pamela, as esurient as ever, and her foolish misbegotten son are siphoning the country’s coffers?”



“Don’t say that to me.”



With that curt reply, Llewellyn averted her eyes from Celine's gaze. Narrowing her eyes, Celine added,



“Those who have lost the hearts of their people have no right ruling over them. Pamela is cruel and Bastian is a dolt.”



“Bastian will do just fine. Even just recently...”



Celine interrupted Llewellyn, firmly stating,



“No, I’m sorry, but your brother is a fool.”



“…”



“Come on Llewellyn, you know that it’s a fact. Bastian is completely unprepared and nowhere ready to assume this role.”



Just as she said, Bastian had not been educated to take over the king’s function. He was not familiar with court etiquette, and even less so with politics, since he had never learned about kingship discipline. Llewellyn on the other hand, had studied intensely, her knowledge far exceeding that of Bastian. It would be absurd to even compare the two.



“After the death of your father, if he could decently be called one, he only listened to that mother of his, ruining the country in the process. It started with the rebellion in the Klestein region, and the unilateral severance of diplomatic relations with Thessaly only worsened the situation. In addition to that, the academy business has been suspended, and people from several noble houses, save for the members of the five prestigious families, have been suffering at the hands of Duke Brion's faction.”



Although she had stayed away from politics after her downfall – and any kind of social activities for that matter – Llewellyn was not completely ignorant regarding the current state of the country either. Still, she had accepted her fate, resignedly distancing herself from statecraft.



“Bastian is an idiot.”



“Nevertheless, he is still my brother. Not to mention royalty! I’d advise you against heedlessly insulting your king."



Celine's eyes widened at Llewellyn's rebuke. Was she earnestly defending the king? Really?



"Your brother? Royalty? Are you serious, Llewellyn?”



Celine stared her in the face, and snorted. The princess really had no idea. She was utterly clueless!



“Llewellyn! Are you really not aware? Did Duke Biserk not say anything to you?”



"Regarding what exactly?"



Llewellyn blinked, seemingly confused. What was she talking about?



“Ah, right. I see what happened. He must not have wanted to tell you. Armandite…he truly just does as he pleases! What a bloody selfish knob!”



Celine clenched her teeth. She took a deep breath and grabbed Llewellyn's shoulder as if she wanted to make sure she couldn't run away from the truth she was about to reveal to her.



“Llewellyn, you need to know...Bastian…he’s not of royal blood.”



"What did you say…?”



Llewellyn doubted her own ears.



“That dirty cockwomble, who sires bastards left and right, is not your real brother, worse, he’s not even your half-brother!”



*



Armandite was heading toward Llewellyn’s chambers, after she had called for him. As soon as the door opened and he saw Celine in the room, he seemed to grasp the reason behind his summoning. Armandite looked at Celine coolly, before politely greeting Llewellyn.



"Take a seat."



He complied at Llewellyn's crisp tone, taking a seat across from her. Fortunately, Llewellyn didn’t seem too shaken by the revelation.



“Duke Biserk, Llewellyn wants an explanation from you.”



“So it’s not ‘princess’ anymore but ‘Llewellyn’ now?” asked Armandite, sarcastically.




Celine scrowled and glared at the man, silent condemnation apparent as their gazes collided. Seeing as little had changed regarding their sour relationship, Llewellyn clarified with a sigh,



“About Bastian’s birth. I would like for you to explain.”



“…It seems that the Countess should be more careful with her words.”



Armandite’s face was stony. It was an expression he had never shown in front of Llewellyn in the past. As the atmosphere was getting more chilly by the minute, Llewellyn reiterated her question.



"So what is the matter regarding my brother’s birth?"



“Exactly what she probably told you.”



“…”



“Bastian was born prematurely.”



“Is that supposed to prove anything?”



In all honesty, right from the start there had been reservations regarding Bastian’s pedigree. But as far as she knew, it had just been one of the various rumors that circulated among high society, and had since been dispelled.



“Besides, Pamela had a steady paramour at the time.”



“…”



“Apparently, he was rumored to look a lot like the previous king.”



That alone was not conclusive evidence. Llewellyn frowned. Without additional proof, this was nothing but a nasty rumor. It wasn’t enough to prove that Bastian and her did not share the same blood. Noticing Llewellyn’s skepticism, Armandite added,



“…Before the late queen and king got married, your father was barren.”



“…?”



Bastian was an illegitimate child, born before Llewellyn's mother even came to Brigent to get married. And yet, Armandite had just claimed that the previous king had been barren at the time?



“My father knew about it. The erstwhile queen’s mother, your grandmother, knew about it too and tried to reveal the truth, but she was killed by Duke Brion before she could.”



"What…?”



As far as she knew, Llewellyn's grandmother had died of old age. So did he mean that it hadn’t been the case?



“Pamela was the illegitimate daughter of the former Duke of Brion, so naturally, the royal family opposed their marriage. Her predecessor, the past Queen Dowager, did not want her own son to father a child from the illegitimate daughter of a Duke. Therefore, she gave her son a drug that rendered him sterile for a while.”



Oh lord...what was he saying? Llewellyn clenched her fists. Surely…surely he was wrong, it couldn’t be so.



“Later, when the princess of Thessaly came to Brigent to wed your father, they gave him medicine to nullify the effect of the poison.”



Llewellyn furrowed her brows. Her father had loved Pamela, and although she resented him for it, that was the truth. They had been madly in love, and because of that, the former king had loathed her mother.



But although it was the case, had her grandparents truly drugged their own son to prevent him from having children with Pamela?



“Everyone who prescribed the drug was killed. The only ones who knew about it were the previous queen and my father. And now I know too.”



“…What about the evidence?”



“As of now, I don’t have any. But I can tell it’s the truth just by the way Pamela is trying to get rid of you.”



“What are you saying…?”



Even if Bastian was not the king's offspring, what did this have to do with her?



“I had actually planned to ask the temple to conduct an inquest in order to verify your blood relationship with Bastian. To ensure the integrity of the results. But by the time Pamela gained power, you had been branded as the child born from the previous queen's infidelity. As such, there was now a risk that the results could be tampered with and used against you. At any rate, a paternity test was never something that could have been done easily.”



“…”



The previous king was already dead, and Llewellyn, being the only remaining member of the royal family, was the only one whose blood could be used to test her kinship with Bastian. Furthermore, the blood test could not be done carelessly. Precautions had to be taken, as it would be quite the scandal if the enterprise were to be exposed. That alone could completely ruin their reputation and honor.



Almandite stared at Llewellyn, whose face was blank. Speaking softly, he told her,



"Therefore, I don't think that Bastian descends from the Golden Raven."



“…”



“Consequently, the only remaining heir of Brigent’s royal bloodline is you, Llewellyn.”



Llewellyn looked utterly aghast. Did Bastian really not share her blood? The Armandite she knew was not prone to gossip. Although he had no evidence, his conviction was enough for him to confidently support his claim.



Llewellyn recalled her own parents. While her mother had been alive, they had looked the part of the perfect couple, at least to the eyes of others, although it was safe to say that there had been little warmth between them. Because of this illusion that they had to maintain, they always looked elegant and beautiful together.



But even though she had given birth to Bastian, because of her grandparents' intervention, Pamela never became her father's wife. Her grandparents, whose face she only knew because of the portraits hung in the palace, had been willing to tamper with their son's fertility for the sake of choosing their daughter-in-law.



Llewellyn was appalled by their obsession. But what irked her even more was that she now understood her father's anger.



“Llewellyn. You possess both the lineage and the necessary skills”, stated Celine.



Llewellyn seemed lost in her thoughts, before she suddenly burst into laughter. If what he had said was true, then… nothing could be funnier than this!



Could her father have imagined this? In the end, the daughter he had forsaken and mistreated, and whose mother he had killed, was his real child, while the son who had inherited everything was a fake. Could there be anything more risible than this situation?



'Father, please!'



'Don't call me father. You are to call me Your Majesty from now on.'



Even though Armandite and his father, as well as Celine, had filled the void left in her heart, she still hadn’t been able to prevent herself from having foolish expectations when it came to her father. He had spared her and Alpheus after all…But then, when –



'Kill them all.'



The moment she saw her father laughing as he destroyed everything she had ever loved, she gave up. It sealed the fact that he had truly abandoned her. And because of that, even when her right to the throne was taken from her, she hadn’t been surprised.



But as it turned out, fate had a twisted sense of humor.



Llewellyn let out a sardonic laugh at the thought.



*



Llewellyn was having a private audience with Bastian in the throne room.



“Mother was quite angry with you.”



"I know", responded Llewellyn, calmly.




Llewellyn was dissecting Bastian's face without her realizing it. Her brother resembled Pamela a lot, but his features mirrored the late king’s. So, as Bastian grew up, the suspicion that he was the result of Pamela’s infidelity, promptly disappeared.



“Was there no other way to deal with this matter? Could you not have told me beforehand?”



“…”



“As expected, it appears that you did not deem me trustworthy.”



Bastian’s gaze dropped to the floor. As he lowered his head, a look of misery appeared on his face. Llewellyn stared at him, then said,



“It wasn’t that I could not trust you.”



“…”



“I was merely afraid that it would upset you, Brother.”



“…”



“Because of your mother.”



Bastian acquiesced, looking dispirited, as his head dropped even lower.



"Right. I see."



“…”



“Of course you must have thought about it. I'm sorry. I –, without knowing you were being considerate of me, I got angry...”



Bastian grabbed his head, as Llewellyn sighed in relief. He really had a soft heart. If this man was truly not her biological brother, what should she do?



"Brother, it’s fine."



"Pardon?"



“All you must focus on is being a good king.”



“Why are you talking about this all of a sudden?”



How should she go about this? To be honest, Llewellyn didn't particularly care whether Bastian, who had not a single drop of royal blood in him, was the king. If anything, nothing mocked her father more than this outcome.



“It must mean that I am not a good monarch.”



"Brother?"



"Right. I know that too. That I should never have become king.”



A shadow fell over his face, before he looked at Llewellyn with a bitter smile.



“It should have been you.”



If moods had colors, Bastian's current aura would be a gloomy blue. Llewellyn eyed him surreptitiously.



Where did his melancholic, meek, and self-deprecating personality come from? Why did he look strangely guilty to have ascended the throne?



“…”



“If it had been you, I might have been happy.”



Could it be that he knew that he was not the king's biological son?



Llewellyn unknowingly reached out and took Bastian's hand in hers, startling him. Assuming that his jolt could be attributed to his shy personality, she thought nothing of it. But what if he knew that Llewellyn was not his blood sister, but a complete stranger?



Bastian tightly squeezed Llewellyn's hand, interrupting her train of thoughts.



He raised his pale face and looked at Llewellyn with a pitiful expression. It felt like she was being sucked into those blue irises. For a moment he stayed still, then suddenly, as if recalling something, Bastian said,



“Ah, Llewellyn, I just remember why I called for you.”



He was smiling faintly.



“Do you remember the promise I made to you?”



Llewellyn's eyes widened.



"After your revelations, many voices were raised calling for trade to be resumed with Thessaly."



"Wait…Could it be because of that purple dress?”



"Indeed. Because of that incident, the number of people in favor of the resumption of diplomatic relations with Thessaly is growing. Therefore, I intend to push this motion forward.”



“…Oh my."



“Consequently, I decided to make you the representative of Brigent.”



Llewellyn opened her eyes wide in shock, while Bastian added with a bright smile,



“I want you to go to the Holy Land as Brigent’s ambassador.”



Why the Holy Land all of a sudden? Llewellyn thought, puzzled.

Chapter end