It was said that the head of the Ondga family had his tongue ripped out and was thrown onto the street, and Prince Hator’s head was pickled in salt. This was because it had to be sent to Brinwell according to Aglante custom.

Those who suffered from the brief rebellion received relief supplies, and it was said that as soon as the traitors and their families were executed, their heads were hung on the castle walls.

All of this was handled by Idren in the single night while she was asleep. Ophelia spoke to the man who had instantly resolved the situation that she had struggled with no matter how hard she tried.

“I need to see Siana.”

Idren frowned as soon as he heard those words.

“How about resting a bit more before meeting her?”

“I need to see her now.”

The man did not try to dissuade her twice. He opened the bedroom door and said:

“Then meet her in the bedroom. I’ll have my people summon her.”

Siana arrived not long after.

The woman’s face was swollen, as if she had been crying all night. Thinking about what could have made her so sad, Ophelia recalled that it wasn’t just her father who had recently died.

Smoothing her cracked voice, she asked:

“Did you hear that the Lord of Rohos has passed away?”

Siana looked up at her with red eyes brimming with tears. After swallowing as if to suppress her emotions for a moment, Siana said:

“So-someone must have murdered him.”

And Siana added, as if pouring everything out: “I-I asked the servant who originally served him. He said he wasn’t the type to drink without moderation. Even less likely to have a carriage accident while drunk.”

“Your Majesty. Pl-please, I beg you. Please clear his unjust death.”

It was a plea filled with desperation. Ophelia spoke to the woman who hadn’t even had time to savor the joy of killing her own father with her own hands:

“Alright, I’ll do my best.”

Siana’s eyes widened at the casual response. The words just now were somewhat different from the queen’s usual way of speaking.

Only then did Siana regain her senses to observe the woman before her. The queen’s face, sitting on the bed, was much paler than when she had last seen her.

Come to think of it, she had mentioned being ill. Suddenly remembering something she had heard in passing, Siana began to worry that she might have said something strange to a sick person. Just as that thought crossed her mind, the queen spoke:

“May I ask you for a favor as well?”

Idren truly disliked this situation.

Although she wasn’t running a fever or coughing, Ophelia was practically bedridden. While explaining briefly to him about the events at the castle, Salode had said that she seemed to be under a lot of pressure from the surrounding circumstances.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand, as even he would have had a headache if the situation around him had started to become so tangled.

However, that didn’t mean he accepted it easily, and Idren was irritated by everything except his wife. To the point where he doubted whether focusing on the borders from the start had been the right move.

If he had trampled the capital first, pushing aside the borders and Soer for later, at least Ophelia wouldn’t have felt such pressure.

Salode had said that she met with the elder family heads who came to the castle in person. When he heard that, he felt furious. He had clearly asked her not to meet them.

Of course, Ophelia must have thought it was necessary, so she did it. There must have been a reason for her stubbornness, so he couldn’t complain about that.

But he was still angry, so Idren vented it elsewhere. He dragged out the heads of the elder families and their children, gouged out their eyes, cut out their tongues, and beheaded them. For the head of the Ond family, he specially cut out his tongue and limbs, then threw him alive onto the street. It was the price for daring to put Ophelia on his tongue.

He didn’t care what people said about him. He wasn’t born noble to begin with.

But Ophelia was different. She was the legitimate princess of Reden, and even if she weren’t, she was sacred to him. She was a woman he couldn’t dare to touch until just over a decade ago.

He was the one who had whispered to her that she could rely on him without worry and brought her here.

But what was this state of affairs at home?

Among the reasons for his anger was also shame towards himself. This incident revealed that his capabilities fell far short of his earlier boasts.

Gilrod Nevel should have been alive. That lucky old man was said to have died before he returned. The cause of death was a fall he suffered while falling into the moat.

Hazel had said that his daughter had planned it. The woman they had brought into the castle according to Ophelia’s will had thrown herself into the same place in her previous life.

While that was a change worth noting when thinking about it, Idren didn’t dwell on it deeply. Whether that daughter swallowed her father’s family or not, that wasn’t what was important right now.

Something had clearly gone wrong. While cleaning up the mess in the castle, Idren tried to figure out what he had missed.

In the previous life, although he had been in trouble, Ophelia had been safe. Back then, she had achieved everything she wanted to achieve. There was also no one who noticeably attacked her.

And when comparing the past and present, the one thing that had clearly changed was their relationship. Even if it was actually one-sided love, a relationship that outwardly appeared like lovers was something that didn’t exist in the previous life.

It was obvious to anyone which of them was more vulnerable between him and Ophelia. Thinking that she might have paid the price for his share of troubles as well, Idren truly felt he had no face to show the woman.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered such a situation. That’s why he had left Hazel and the army under her, but that alone wasn’t enough.

If Edegrun was in this state, at least Ophelia’s goal of revenge should have gone well, but even that didn’t seem to have gone in a direction that satisfied Ophelia. Although he couldn’t ask Ophelia directly, Idren could guess that this clumsy downfall wasn’t the way she wanted.

He recalled the woman’s lips from which words had flowed. It was a sight that chilled his heart, red yet strangely pale.

He should have done better.

Thinking back to that time, such thoughts came to him involuntarily.

Mahanas died, and Reden fell. The two things Ophelia had shown interest in, despite not having much attachment to the world otherwise, disappeared like that.

Now Idren couldn’t be sure that she would remain by his side.

Although she had made a promise, so she probably wouldn’t take her own life without warning, he couldn’t completely guarantee that either. Idren couldn’t be certain that he was of that much value to Ophelia.

If she felt it was too difficult to try, and if the situation at hand became heavier and more tiresome than her goodwill towards him.

Would the promise still be effective then?

What was more problematic was that he didn’t know how to overcome this situation. Idren retraced what he had done in the name of effort.

First, he sent people to secure the Tears of Mevasa. He planned to bring that jewel, the symbol of the Reden royal family, to Ophelia, enthrone her as queen, and then dispatch a governor on her behalf.

There was also a reason to try to capture her interest that way, but considering Ophelia’s political position, the throne of Reden had to be hers.

Of course, he didn’t believe that the throne of Reden alone could make Ophelia happy. But what else could he think of?

If he had known how to make Ophelia like him, he could have moved more efficiently, but the only method he knew was to give her something.

Meanwhile, the castle was too busy for her to move around freely. It was unavoidable since executions were in full swing, but it made him sigh.

Idren, who had sighed, turned around a bent corridor. His eyes widened as he saw someone walking from the opposite side.

“Ophelia?”

He thought she had said she was going to talk with Siana. He strode towards her and asked:

“Why are you here?”

“I have a favor to ask.”

“If you had sent someone, I would have come to you.”

Seeing the man speak as if it was obvious, Ophelia recalled a question she had pondered several times but still couldn’t resolve. Why do you care for me so much?

She wasn’t someone worthy of receiving such selfless kindness. Idren constantly tried to convince her that she was a valuable person, but Ophelia already knew the truth.

Even knowing that, she had tried her hand at all sorts of things, wanting to appear as a decent person, at least to Idren.

But her capacity was too small to handle the situation, and things became a mess the more she touched them.

Ophelia thought of the two people who would have lived their lives well if it weren’t for her. Both of them died as soon as they tried to be even a little friendly, as if mocking her choices.

How could she be as good as he says in this situation?

Nevertheless, Idren’s eyes looking at her remained unchanged. While feeling grateful that at least that remained, she also felt afraid that she would disappoint him someday. It was natural, as even if he wasn’t a fool, he would eventually realize the truth.

Cutting off the deepening thoughts, Ophelia said:

“You’re busy, aren’t you?”

Even if I’m not busy, it’s right that I come to you. The words he added were intended solely to state the facts.

It was true that Idren treated her as an equal, but that was purely out of his goodwill. Looking at their importance within the castle, or the degree of contribution to this marriage, there was a hierarchy between them.

Ophelia spoke to the man who seemed about to correct her words:

“Can you give me Gilrod Nevel’s head that’s hanging on the castle wall?”