I Didn't Really Want to Do Farming! (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 193

“Huh… hah… hahh…”

Though spared from the dungeon thanks to her royal blood, Beatrice felt as if the sky had collapsed upon her, overwhelmed by the unprecedented humiliation.

Having never once in her life failed to be the center of attention, Beatrice now felt as though her entire existence had ended in utter despair.

“Beatrice, stop crying. If you keep sobbing, your eyes will swell.”

Eliza gently patted her daughter’s shoulder, trying to soothe her as Beatrice had spent hours hunched over, face buried between her knees, weeping uncontrollably.

“I’ve already sent word to Amalune—your father will come soon. Once he arrives, we’ll leave this place immediately.”

The temporary quarters assigned to mother and daughter were a cramped room, less than half the size of their usual chambers.

Since they had to share it—rather than occupying it alone—it was, strictly speaking, barely even a quarter of their normal space.

Moreover, sunlight barely penetrated the room, leaving the air chilly despite it not being cold outside. Had Beatrice not been flushed from crying, she surely would have thrown a fit about the cold.

Beatrice suddenly jerked her head up from her hunched position, wiping away her tears irritably. Then, as if holding her breath before releasing it all at once, she snapped at Eliza.

“This is all your fault, Mother! You clearly said so yourself! You promised that once we came here, the Emperor would abandon Stella—tainted with filthy blood—and choose me instead! You said he only chose Stella because he didn’t yet know how base her blood truly was!”

Beatrice’s voice, hoarse from shouting and sobbing, trembled with accusation. She’d cried so fiercely that words barely formed on her lips.

Seeing her daughter throw a tantrum like a petulant child, Eliza briefly frowned before softening again into a gentle smile as she continued.

“That wretched Stella must have used some trick—there’s no other explanation. Otherwise, why would the Emperor, unless utterly mad, marry such a worthless girl? We must uncover the truth. The Emperor is surely deceived. Once we reveal the facts, today’s humiliation will return to us multiplied many times over as even greater glory. So, Beatrice, my precious darling—don’t give up yet. If you surrender, justice itself will vanish.”

Eliza clasped her daughter’s puffy face between both hands, solemnly invoking justice. Even her tear-reddened eyes radiated a pure, ethereal beauty—Beatrice was, without doubt, the noblest and most flawless being in the world.

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