The Tyrant's Terminally-Ill Childhood Friend (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 12

Noah once remarked about Anette like this.

A person who has nothing but her life.

“Recall what your younger sister told you. What did Anette Martinek say when she drove out the maids?”

Thanks to Mabel’s detailed account, Simoren knew quite clearly what had happened back then.

[She spoke with the implication of, “Do you really think Helen can treat us this way and get away with it?” But it didn’t get through at all. She even asked, “Will you kill me yourself, or go report me to His Majesty?”]

Mabel had said that Helen, who usually carried herself with such confidence, had never so readily backed down like that before. Hearing Mabel’s story beside him, Noah was certain.

“Normally, one wouldn’t immediately ask, ‘Will you kill me right here?’ Usually… yes, they’d just say something like, ‘What can I possibly do about it?’”

Noah recalled Anette when she had come to see him. She had clearly said those very words to him. Even then, he’d understood she had a bold, unreserved personality.

“Most people wouldn’t bring up their life over such trivial matters, not even as empty words. That’s something only someone who has nothing left to lose but their life would say.”

“…Aren’t you being overly sensitive? Couldn’t she have said that just to threaten you?”

“In another situation, perhaps. Even if she were wrong, her head wouldn’t actually roll. But this is the Imperial Palace, and Anette Martinek has already fallen out of His Majesty’s favor.”

Despite Peter having warned her several times, her actions remained reckless. Someone might call it courageous, but Noah well knew that boldness wasn’t merely about bravery.

“Anette Martinek—she has nothing left to lose. And in a card game, the one with the most to lose always ends up losing.”

Therefore, for now, they should just leave her be.

At that time, Noah had earnestly told Simoren so. Simoren understood Noah’s concern, but his opinion differed.

“Noah said that Anette Martinek has nothing left to lose. Thus, until we know what she truly wants, we shouldn’t act rashly.”

“My opinion is the same. Are you trying to object?”

“No. But if we can’t act because we don’t know what she wants, shouldn’t we at least try to find out?”

Above all, Simoren felt Anette didn’t seem like a particularly safe person.

“She might cause unwarranted trouble for my younger sister, so for now, I’d like to personally keep watch over her. Please grant me permission.”

“…”

When Simoren finished speaking, silence filled the room. Peter, lost in thought, simply stared at Simoren without saying a word first. In truth, Peter was utterly flabbergasted by Simoren’s judgment.

Not that Simoren had judged wrongly—his reasoning was rational and sound.

What made Peter want to laugh bitterly was Anette’s conduct, which had led Simoren to such a rational and sensible conclusion.

‘I thought I was the only one being toyed with.’

The last time he’d confronted Anette, he’d warned her:

[Live quietly. If you wish to preserve that neck of yours even a little longer.]

That had been Peter’s complete sincerity. He’d intended to use Anette as a shield against other nobles—not, as she’d claimed, to keep her close to temper his own madness. He’d only wanted her to survive in some corner of the palace until he achieved his goal.

Yet with just a few words, she’d instantly amplified her presence within the palace.

Noah feared Anette, Monique couldn’t resist her curiosity and went to see her, and Simoren had volunteered to stay by her side.

Peter’s intention to render Anette invisible had utterly failed.

If her presence couldn’t be erased, it was better, as Simoren suggested, to find out what she truly wanted.

The problem was that, for now, her intentions remained utterly inscrutable.

“It’s certain that Anette Martinek is setting up a game… but what she hopes to gain from it is impossible to tell.”

If it had been another noble, would their desires have been clearer?

The Martineks were nobles, yet distant ones. It was akin, perhaps, to governing northern frontier lands. In exchange for loyalty to the Imperial family, they’d become stewards of the Underworld, Operta. Since most of the Martinek family’s dealings occurred within Operta, they held little interest or ambition toward the outside world of high society.

‘That’s precisely why I chose the Martineks over other candidates.’

But now, this very trait made her intentions impossible to discern, causing trouble.

At this rate, they’d be entirely at Anette’s mercy.

After a moment of contemplation, Peter spoke.

“I grant permission. From this moment on, you are assigned as Anette Martinek’s personal guard.”

“Thank you!”

“It’s surveillance I’m entrusting you with, so there’s no need to thank me—but there’s something I need you to do.”

He had no intention of being played along like this.

If your opponent holds a bomb certain to explode someday, it’s better to detonate it now than live in constant anxiety over when it might go off. Knowing Anette was setting up a game, Peter decided to amplify it himself and trigger the explosion.

And conveniently, he already had the perfect pretext to escalate matters. Peter pulled two sealed envelopes from his drawer and handed them to Simoren.

“Send invitations to the banquet for the Former Empress and Anette Martinek.”

“You mean the Tillemann Commemoration Banquet hosted by the Chamberlain?”

“Yes.”

The Tillemann Commemoration Banquet—or simply “Tillemann.”

Tillemann was the continent-wide ceasefire proclamation officially declared by the Empire right after Curtne II’s conquest wars.

In the past, the bloodthirsty Curtne II had systematically dismantled allied nations at a relentless pace right up until his death. This threw the Empire into great turmoil. However, further warfare was excessively draining both diplomatically and internally. Conquering a nation without fully assimilating it only bred unrest, yet Curtne II cared nothing for such concerns—he simply reveled in conquest.

Thus, immediately after Curtne II’s passing, the Empire declared an end to all further conquests to focus on internal consolidation and diplomatic recovery. This became known as the Tillemann Declaration.

The Belf Empire has held the Tillemann Commemoration Banquet annually ever since to demonstrate the declaration’s continued validity. Unlike other imperial banquets open to any noble, the Tillemann required an invitation—to prevent unnecessary discord at an event created specifically to uphold peace.

Consequently, Monique, whose reputation was poor and who harbored strong resentment toward Peter, and the Martineks, stewards of the Underworld, had always been excluded from this banquet.

They certainly should have been excluded again this year, but Peter cared nothing for the peace of a mere banquet—let alone continental peace.

“To escalate the game, we must do it properly. Only then will Anette Martinek’s true intentions become clear.”

What public opinion she sought to shape, what desires she harbored.

What exactly her trap was meant to catch.

“Remember this, Simoren: my goal isn’t to find Lowell.”

Peter was searching for traces of Lowell—but what he sought wasn’t merely Lowell’s whereabouts or even Lowell herself.

Peter’s true objective was to erase Lowell’s very existence from this world.

“Whatever Anette does, don’t let yourself be swayed.”

Thus, Peter’s words were directed not at Simoren—but at himself.

[This is the timeline separator]

The Hessen family’s fire. And their extermination.

These weighed upon Peter like a yoke. He still remembered that day vividly.

The day he heard the Hessen mansion had been burned to the ground by imperial decree.

It was also the first day he’d ever defied his father.

“Father!”

“Don’t shout. How ill-mannered.”

Kuhk—Young Peter was instantly pinned to the floor of the Emperor’s study, unable to even breathe. It was due to the Former Emperor’s magic. Though not as powerful as Peter’s, the Former Emperor still possessed considerable magical strength—enough to effortlessly subdue a child.

Yet even pinned to the floor, Peter refused to stop shouting.

“Count Hessen is no traitor!”

“He raised arms against Me. That is treason.”

“That makes no sense—Kuhk!”

Peter’s words were cut short—he’d been kicked squarely in the solar plexus mid-sentence.

The Former Emperor watched indifferently as his son writhed on the floor, gasping for breath.

“I don’t understand why you’re resisting so fiercely. Does My command seem so unreasonable to you, my son?”

The toe of the Former Emperor’s shoe lifted Peter’s chin. He gazed with evident pleasure at the contempt etched on his son’s face—the very face that mirrored his own—before finally smiling.

“In truth, you’re not wrong. I’m not so obstinate as to accuse someone of treason over something so trivial.”

It was ironic, coming from the man who’d just kicked his defiant son in the gut.

“Do you truly wish to know why I had them killed? Since you’re My son, I’ve no reason to withhold it from you.”

At that time, the Former Emperor had just lost his consort. Few failed to recognize that this signaled his descent into madness. Many later recalled that the Former Emperor had remained quite lucid until shortly before his death—but Peter never believed that.

No sane person could commit such acts.

As Peter clenched his teeth to stifle a groan, the Former Emperor bent down, gripped his throat, and whispered:

“The Hessens were annihilated solely because of you, Peter.”

Everything was for your sake.