The soldier who encountered Bruno at dawn enthusiastically provided his alibi, and the soldiers believed it.

Rather, encountering that soldier turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Bruno rode comfortably to the nearest place, changing his clothes and even his horse.

If he rode fast, he would reach the port before evening. Then he could board the prepared ship and return to Sheim.

Far in the distance, the sunrise gradually bloomed in the sky.

Only then did the soldiers realize that the knight they had come to trust the most, Sir Argos, had escaped.

It was thanks to a soldier who was late in preparation that he belatedly found the sword on his bed.

It made no sense for someone who said they would look around and return to leave their sword behind.

It was as if he left a hint saying, “I really did run away. So you guys figure it out yourselves.”

That was also a part Mercedes instructed Bruno to do, valuing the lives of the soldiers.

The soldiers were devastated.

He was the one they respected the most and the one they trusted and followed to some extent. To think that such a person had run away?

Respect hit rock bottom, and fear swept over them.

It seemed they could not survive this battle. Every soldier began to avoid each other’s eyes with pale faces.

* * *

Count Cromwell, who sided with the king, suffered a major defeat in a territorial battle against forces led by the wandering prince, who had now risen to first in the line of succession.

Moreover, it was said that instead of fighting properly, 1,500 soldiers each ran away in the face of 800 enemies.

Running, riding horses, crossing mountains and rivers. At a speed that made it difficult to even find them.

To save their own lives.

Could there be anything more humiliating than this?

Sheim was not a country that restricted soldiers.

As the country was small, the nobles were too busy tearing each other apart to attack the royal family and plot treason.

Still, just in case, they restricted the “education” part instead.

The maximum number of soldiers a noble could have was three appointed knights, and the rest were a motley crew.

Most of them underwent basic training at the academy and then entered as soldiers for a salary… But since there was no need to wage war in this peaceful country, they did not put in much effort.

Rather, they maintained mediocre skills by doing chores or sparring among themselves.

Even if there were occasionally passionate knights, there were limits to how much the three appointed knights could gather and teach as they learned at the academy.

So even if the number of soldiers was large, most of them were a ragtag bunch.

Nevertheless, having a large number was a means to boast of wealth.

Also, even if skills were secondary, having “loyal” soldiers was a symbol of authority.

That was why Count Cromwell had 1,500 disorganized soldiers. And he always bragged about it.

That’s why they were entrusted with it in the first place…

“Tsk. Useless fool.”

He boasted of receiving a knighthood from the emperor, but what is this?

The king only clicked his tongue once upon hearing the news.

Well, it didn’t really matter either way.

The only proper army in this country was the royal army. They were all high-level troops who had received knighthood.

This time, the army on the other side that had won in confusion could be handled by the royal army.

Even though the king himself had instigated the territorial battle, it was not outwardly revealed, so he could intervene under the pretext of mediating the fight between nobles.

The other side suddenly attacked the Cromwell family. This is an act that disrupts the order of the nation. Using such excuses.

It would also be possible to confiscate the soldiers.

‘Actually, it didn’t matter if you lost anyway, Count.’

And in fact, the king thought it was rather fortunate that Count Cromwell had lost. That’s why he hastily pulled the territorial battle in the first place with such intentions.

To think he would threaten him, saying he held the key to the bastard child. Is he crazy?

Moreover, strange secret letters kept flying to the entire aristocracy. Even when he released shadow knights to shoot and kill anything that looked like a carrier pigeon, the secret letters were still delivered.

There was a limit to the number of surveillance personnel he could command.

Anyway, those damn letters had been stimulating all sorts of nobles for the past four months, and if they were secret letters written by someone who knew of the bastard’s existence…

“This is not good, not good at all.”

The king tapped the desk with an irritated heart.

There was a need to sort out the nobles after dismissing Count Cromwell and quelling the rumors.

After weeding them out once, he could give the young duke another good card.

And how to deal with Count Cromwell, who must have evidence.

‘Should I set him on fire, or send an assassin?’

The king clicked his tongue at the count who was so stupid that he was hastening his own death after barely being spared.

And then a secret letter arrived for him.

The content was simple.

It was a threat from the former crown princess that the king was unaware of.

* * *

Meanwhile, after hearing the news of defeat in the territorial battle, Count Cromwell began house arrest on his own accord. Even the servants seemed to know it was shameful and did not grumble like before.

Now it was the 1,500 soldiers lost at once, the impact of humiliation, and the dwindling money that he had spent lavishly without knowing things would turn out this way.

The entire count’s family was gripped by anxiety.

Count Cromwell gritted his teeth.

“What the hell happened!”

The soldiers had all run away and scattered, and there was no one to tell him what had become of Sir Argos.

The corpse was not found. Of course. There was no battle that day.

Did that damn Mercedes send a scammer? No, no. Sir Argos was quite reliable, and the medal given by the emperor was elaborate.

He couldn’t understand why things had gotten so tangled. Sir Argos said everything would go well.

Those cowardly things call themselves soldiers!

“Damn it. Damn them! I paid their salaries!”

Count Cromwell pounded the desk in anger.

If he could, he wanted to find them all and punish them, but it was impossible.

They were warriors in their own way. It would be useless to hire incompetent people to track them down. And there were too many of them.

At times like this, he should borrow the king’s power to frame the deserters and put out a wanted notice. But he doubted the king would help him.

‘Tsk. Should I threaten him with the bastard again? No. That’s dangerous.’

The king was quite a sly one. The same trick wouldn’t work twice.

Then what other way was there?

For now…

“Mercedes. You’ll have to take responsibility.”

Right. There was his damn daughter.

Without knowing exactly what was going on, the count wrote another letter.

There was only one lifeline.

Stupid wench!

So he put aside his pride and tried hard to write nicely.

However, once again, the letter was sent off containing a heavy rebuke and demanding money.

Since there was no response from Mercedes, he had to send it through a merchant group that claimed to raise carrier pigeons that find their way well. Like that, every day, every day. The count sent letters.

The count was a truly tireless person.

* * *

On the day Count Cromwell was humiliated and the carrier pigeon arrived, Bruno also arrived at their secret mansion with a haggard face.

He said he had ridden without rest in case he got caught or something went wrong while escaping.

As soon as she heard the news of his arrival, Mercedes secretly left the imperial palace with the knight Carlos had assigned to her.

“The escape route was safe. You didn’t have to push yourself like that.”

His face looked so haggard that it was pitiful just to look at him. It made sense, considering he had traveled a distance that would take five days in just under four.

Bruno smiled weakly.

“I had no choice but to overdo it. After finishing the stage you gave me this time and escaping, my desire grew even stronger. I want to stand on the stage you will prepare for me when I return, even if I die. I thought it didn’t matter if I died, but the whole time I was riding the horse…”

Bruno faced Mercedes.

“I only thought of myself acting there.”

At his words, Mercedes felt somehow… Her heart was fluttering. Was passion contagious?

‘…Things are really changing.’

Her heart grew hot and a strange pleasure arose.

Even the complicated feelings that arose when she thought of her relationship with Carlos did not come to mind now.

The finish line set before her was clearly visible.

* * *

The banquet of the Viscountess of Somerset was always very modest and beautiful. The grand banquet hall, decorated with ivory and marble on all walls, was the pride of the viscount’s family and had a long tradition.

When the light of the chandelier spread in that snow-white place and fresh flowers filled it, there was no separate indoor garden. The banquet hall was always filled with such decorations.

Mercedes suggested to her maids to meet separately at the banquet hall, and entrusted only Rhonda and Patricia with her attire.

Usually, it was proper for the other maids to stay together and dress her up, but Mercedes generously showed leniency, dismissing the maids and telling them to dress at home and meet at the banquet.

In fact, she said it because it was more comfortable to be dressed only by Rhonda and Patricia.

Anyway, the maids who were able to fully dress up and attend an important banquet were very pleased.

Anyhow, since it was the first banquet after becoming the empress, Mercedes deliberately toned it down a bit. A too glamorous empress would give the image of a concubine.

The dress, covering up to the neck and only cinching the waist, had light and fluttery half-sleeves of silk lace attached to the shoulder area, considering it was summer.

Overall, it was a neat and bright dress with an emerald green color and white lace as accents.

The finishing touches were a hair ornament made of emeralds and fresh flowers, and pearl earrings with a silver filigreed edge.

It seemed to stand out, but when she entered the banquet hall filled with fresh flowers and white, it probably wouldn’t be too conspicuous. Of course, that was just her thought.

Anyway.

Today was the day to act. The day to summon a different Mercedes.

Mercedes was more motivated and steeled herself as the intended work had progressed quite a bit.

‘It’s okay. I can do well.’

It was really convenient to be able to create a fake personality and focus on it.

Because she could somehow suppress the uncomfortable feelings and make eye contact with Carlos.

She was reflected in his black eyes.