Returns
"The coward who fled... or the warrior who never left?"
The Regent's accusations were nothing short of contemptible—yet delivered with calculated precision.
Present upon these walls stood the Queen Mother, Valdina's highest officials, and the captain of the guard himself. If the Regent truly wished to conceal his niece's alleged transgression, he would never have revealed it here, before so many witnesses.
Joaquin... what game are you playing?
The Queen Mother harbored deep suspicions about her son's motives, yet found herself unable to refute his claims outright.
"We searched every corner of the palace, Your Majesty. Her Highness Princess Medea was nowhere to be found. Forgive us."
The Queen Mother's own knights arrived shortly after, their testimony lending weight to the Regent's words.
Worse still, they presented an object discovered in the Princess's chambers—a purple fan, its silk panels painted with delicate blossoms.
"This... this was my gift to Medea..."
The Queen Mother's voice cracked as she recognized the token. Her legs threatened to buckle beneath her.
Medea, you foolish child. If you were so frightened, why did you not come to me? No matter the danger, this old woman would have shielded you. But why—
Then the bitter truth surfaced: she had never truly been a protector to that girl. Not when it mattered most.
And so Medea had fled alone.
"Very well..."
"Your Majesty!"
Regret and guilt crashed over the Queen Mother like a wave, and her legs finally gave way. Madame Pinatelli caught her swiftly, steadying her before she could fall.
What the Queen Mother failed to notice was the brief, knowing glance exchanged between the Regent and her own knights.
The Regent stepped forward, his bearing that of a man whose words had been vindicated.
"I shall defend this kingdom in the absence of His Majesty the King—and in the stead of Princess Medea, who has fled."
"How dare you! All I have ever witnessed from you is cowardice—a man consumed with preserving his own hide. And now you would slander Medea as well?"
Rather than retreat, the Regent grasped his mother's trembling hand and spoke with unwavering conviction.
"Mother, do you recall when Katzen invaded Valdina—when Father and my brother were both in the south, battling the drought? I was the one who repelled them. I had not yet come of age. I nearly lost my head to a Katzenian blade."
Though the two nations now spoke of friendship and commerce, Katzen had been Valdina's mortal enemy mere decades ago.
The Regent drew aside his collar, revealing a faded scar carved into his shoulder.
"..."
"I was Medea's age when I faced that invasion. But I did not run."
Behind him, the formidable knights of House Claudio stood in silent testament to his words.
"The blood of Valdina's royal line flows through my veins. I shall restore this faltering kingdom to glory."
The Regent struck his chest with a clenched fist. Around him, awestruck gazes turned his way—the eyes of those who now saw him as their deliverer.
The assembly's reaction was divided.
Some, like the Queen Mother and Count Montega, remained unconvinced, their suspicions undiminished. But others fell prey to his performance, praising the Regent and declaring that royal blood revealed itself in times of crisis.
Emboldened, the Regent turned toward the rebel forces and bellowed:
"Hear me, traitors! So long as House Claudio stands, you shall never breach these walls! Raise our banner—now!"
"At once, Your Grace!"
His thunderous voice echoed across the ramparts, painting him as an unassailable hero.
A strange reversal had occurred in the hearts of those watching.
The Princess—so recently hailed as the kingdom's champion—had supposedly fled in terror. Meanwhile, the Regent—long derided as a self-serving schemer—remained to defend his homeland.
They say a person's true nature reveals itself in crisis.
In this moment of national peril, the Regent's bold, even shameless initiative appeared as a strength without equal—especially compared to a Princess too frightened to stand her ground.
The people, swept up in the moment, seemed to forget entirely how Medea had once stood defiant against the Katzen Empire itself.
"Mother, I shall organize the noble ladies to tend the wounded. Our preparations may be hasty, but surely it is better than doing nothing at all."
Duchess Catherine Claudio, the Regent's wife, offered her services with measured calm.
"Grandmother, please allow me to join the front lines. Let me fight."
Even young Duke Samon volunteered to sortie beyond the walls, despite his body still bearing wounds from his recent beating.
The Claudio family presented itself as the very model of nobility.
While others hesitated and watched from safety, they alone stepped forward without reservation to face the rebel threat.
The Duke's knights raised their house banner alongside Valdina's flag. The turquoise standard snapped in the wind, proclaiming their presence to all.
"I, Claudio, shall resolve this crisis! Mother—entrust command of the royal forces to me!"
At that precise moment, the thunder of hoofbeats shattered the tension.
A soldier mounted on a white horse ascended the wall with remarkable skill, guiding the animal up the steep stone steps as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
"What nonsense is this, Uncle?"
A clear, resonant voice rang out.
The small soldier removed her helmet and cast it aside. Silver hair cascaded free, rippling in the wind as the metal clattered across the stone.
"Your Highness?"
Had the Regent not just declared she had fled?
What is happening?
Eyes widened across the assembly.
Yet no shock could compare to that of the Claudio family themselves.
The Regent's composure crumbled. His eyes bulged until they threatened to burst from their sockets.
"M-Medea... How did you... How? Why are you here? You should be—by now—"
Shouldn't you be in rebel hands, a prisoner far beyond these walls?
His stammer betrayed him completely.
Catherine and Samon stood equally stunned, unable to comprehend where their carefully laid plans had gone awry.
Samon's mind raced.
"Samon, I simply cannot ride that fast. The memory of falling from my horse still haunts me—I can barely hold the reins."
He remembered Medea weeping in the hunting grounds that day, trembling with fear.
Yet the woman who now dismounted before him showed no trace of that timidity.
No—the way she handled her armor, the ease with which she commanded her mount—she moved like a general who had spent a lifetime on the battlefield.
Impossible...
A strange intuition struck him, even as his mind insisted it could not be true.
"Forgive me, Uncle."
Medea dismounted and approached the Regent directly.
"You graciously provided me a secret passage to escape the rebels. But I found myself unable to take it."
Escape? The word rippled through the crowd.
What does she mean? That contradicts everything the Regent claimed.
"Am I not the Princess of Valdina? Whatever hardships befall us, whatever disasters descend—I must defend this kingdom until its final hour."
Medea lifted her chin and surveyed the scene before her—the walls, the soldiers within, the enemy without.
When her gaze fell upon the defenders, it was warm with compassion. When it turned toward the rebel host, it sharpened to a blade's edge.
"Joaquin claimed you fled in fear."
The Queen Mother's voice was cautious, probing.
Medea tilted her head, her expression one of innocent confusion.
"Fled? My uncle came personally to my palace. He revealed the secret passage to me himself and even assigned one of his own knights to escort me. Surely there has been some misunderstanding?"
She turned to face the Regent, her eyes holding his.
"Is that not so, Uncle?"
"You... You—!"
The Regent's face drained of all color, turning as white as his graying hair.
Before he could recover, a thunderous voice erupted from beyond the walls.
"You avaricious royal dogs! Behold—the true face of the monarchy you so blindly defend!"
The Regent had arranged this signal long before, anticipating that communication with the rebels would prove difficult once combat began:
When the Claudio banner rises upon the walls, present the captured Princess to the world.
"Chieftain! The flag of House Claudio has been raised!"
"Excellent. The signal has come. Now—bring forth the sacrifice!"
Horrols, ignorant of the dramatic turn of events upon the wall, remembered only the prearranged signal. He moved to execute the plan as promised.
No!
The Regent's mind screamed in silent horror.
He could not fathom how Medea had escaped the trap—but one thing was devastatingly clear: his entire scheme lay in ruins.
Frantically, he gestured for his knights to lower the banner.
"I have captured the Princess of Valdina!"
But Horrols' triumphant cry rang out faster than any flag could fall.
In the distance, a slender figure was dragged forward—hands bound, a rough sack concealing her face.
Upon the walls, all eyes turned toward the distant spectacle.
And standing among them—silver hair gleaming in the sunlight—Princess Medea smiled.
The trap the Regent had set for her was about to snap shut.
Around his own throat.
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