"When love curdles to hatred, the transformed heart knows no mercy."
The moment her trembling hand touched her stomach, searing pain lanced through Marieu's skull.
"Ahh—!"
Cold skin. An awful emptiness in her belly. Then, a dread stronger than any physical pain washed over her.
She reached out desperately and grabbed the middle-aged woman's arm.
"My baby—my baby is still here. Please save him. Please, you have to—!"
"...It's too late, dear. The poison was far too strong. It's a miracle you survived at all."
The middle-aged woman shook her head, her expression heavy with pity.
"Don't despair too deeply. You're still young. There will be other children."
But those words offered Marieu no comfort whatsoever.
"No! That's a lie!"
Marieu screamed, her voice tearing from her throat.
"My baby! My child isn't dead! You're lying! I don't believe it! I won't believe it!"
She went berserk, hurling everything within reach—cups, bowls, blankets—tearing at the bedsheets with manic strength.
"I pulled you back from the brink of death, and this is how you thank me?!"
"What can anyone do for someone who's already gone?"
The other women shook their heads and filed out, regarding her with a mixture of pity and unease.
"Poor thing. She's lost her mind from the shock. Miss, when you've calmed down, I'll come check on you."
Still, the kind-hearted woman squeezed Marieu's hand once before leaving, assuming grief had broken her spirit.
"Ahhh! Aaaahhh!"
Marieu raged alone, tearing at her own hair with both hands.
It felt as though the child who no longer existed was screaming from inside her. No matter how much she tried to deny it, she knew the truth all too well.
"What are you talking about? He was the one who sent us to kill you."
The villain's mocking laughter still echoed vividly in her ears. Tears streamed down her face.
"Samon! How could you do this?! How could you do this to me?! How could you throw me aside like an old shoe—"
A shrill, anguished scream tore through the room.
Betrayal and despair seeped into every ragged breath.
Then, a commotion erupted outside.
The sound of jeers and angry curses drifted in through the open window, reaching Marieu even in her devastation.
"That bastard—the little Duke Claudio—is marrying a princess of Katzen?!"
"How the hell did he escape execution? Playing games with his body! It's infuriating! A traitor who turned the country upside down deserves death!"
"The Fourth Princess must be blind! How could she marry such a shameless wretch?!"
People's voices carried clearly through the window.
"Because of those Katzen bastards, we have to tolerate the Regent's family living! What nonsense! Those damn imperials!"
Marieu's mouth fell open.
She stood, forgetting the pain in her body, and stumbled out the door.
Then she grabbed the first passerby she saw.
"Who—who is the little Duke Claudio marrying?!"
"What—? Miss, are you all right?"
The stranger recoiled at the sight of a woman with a ghostly pale face and wild, disheveled hair suddenly clutching his arm.
"Speak! Tell me now!"
The passerby frowned at the hysterical demand but answered out of pity.
"Who? The Fourth Princess of Katzen. The woman who arrived with the imperial delegation."
"Ha... ha ha ha..."
The strength drained from Marieu's hand. She collapsed to the ground.
Now she understood everything.
The twisted expression on Samon's face when he'd learned she was pregnant.
You wanted to live...
He killed the child. He was terrified the Fourth Princess would discover his secret and annul their marriage, so he'd panicked and come running after her.
He had destroyed his own bloodline. He had become a father—and then murdered his own child with his own hands.
Samon had killed that innocent life before it ever saw the light of day.
"Ahhhhh!"
Marieu screamed, clawing at her face, not caring that her sharp nails dug into her flesh and left raw, bleeding wounds.
It felt as though her heart was being slowly torn apart by a rusty, jagged blade.
She had given everything. Body and soul, she had devoted herself to Samon.
She had run here and there, even confronted the Princess directly, all in a desperate attempt to save him somehow.
But what had she received in return?
Brutal, unforgivable betrayal.
All that remained now was an empty womb and a hatred so tangible she could taste it.
A trembling sense of loss seeped deep into her lungs, suffocating her from within.
"Samon Claudio..."
Marieu's lips trembled. Her bloodshot eyes flashed with madness. Her cracked lips split open, and blood dripped down her chin.
"I will never... forgive you."
They say love and hate are separated by only a hair's breadth.
The love that had grown deep and boundless had now plunged into the abyss, transforming into something dark and red as blood-stained tears.
Princess Valdina's palace.
Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating Medea as she played with a small wooden doll.
One by one, she lifted delicate dolls shaped like young girls from an ornate box.
She arranged them carefully on the nightstand beside her bed so she could admire them whenever she wished.
A rare warmth flickered across Medea's normally indifferent face as she gazed down at the dolls.
"Your Highness. Marieu has awakened. Her treatment is complete. There should be no lasting aftereffects."
Neriel entered and delivered her report.
The assassins Samon had hired through Count Raju had dealt with Marieu and left her body near the dark outer walls of the castle.
The fact that she had barely survived—that she'd opened her eyes in a makeshift shelter, cared for by a kind middle-aged woman—was entirely due to Medea's intervention.
After hearing Neriel's report, Medea opened the table drawer and withdrew a heavy pouch of gold coins.
"Give this to Marieu."
Medea neither pitied nor mocked the plight of the woman who had been so recklessly devoted to Samon.
She was simply using her.
The chessboard on the table was filled with black and white pieces.
Tak.
Medea moved a white pawn that had been captured by the black knight back onto the board.
The resurrected pawn returned to play.
But the revived piece soon lost its prominence, blending quietly among the more actively moving horses and bishops.
"Tell her to wait until the time is right. I will summon her when the moment comes."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Marieu would not reveal herself until the optimal moment to strike Samon arrived.
But I can't let this opportunity slip away entirely.
Medea moved the white bishop across the chessboard.
For the time being, it would serve as a substitute—a piece to pressure Samon in Marieu's place.
A calm voice rang out.
"Today is the execution day, isn't it? I should get ready. I don't want to be late."
The square in front of the Royal Palace of Valdina was where public executions were held.
A large crowd had gathered.
The condemned were dragged out one after another, bound with thick ropes. The guillotine blades flashed in the sunlight, sharp and merciless.
"Please, save me! I don't want to die! I don't want to die—!"
Clang!
Each time a death sentence was carried out, each time the screams of the dying prisoners ceased, the square fell into somber silence.
The people felt a grim sense of relief, but at the same time, they trembled at the King's unwavering firmness—his refusal to show mercy to traitors.
About halfway through the executions, the square erupted in noise.
"You filthy bastards!"
It was because the Claudio family had appeared.
The Regent couple and their children all had pale, haggard complexions. But unlike the convicts dressed in filthy prison rags, they wore clean, immaculate clothing.
Samon, in particular, was dressed in a spotless white robe.
His sunken eyes and pallid complexion clashed grotesquely with his fine attire.
"Brother, it would be best to release my uncle's family on the day of the executions. Samon's engagement ceremony should take place on that same day."
Following Medea's orders, the four members of the Claudio family were escorted to the square by armed knights, forced to endure the razor-sharp gazes of the crowd.
The criminals awaiting execution could see the Regent's family perfectly.
This was a time when the blood on the execution ground had not even been washed away.
The eyes of the dying prisoners turned murderous when they saw that only the Claudios had escaped the guillotine's blade.
"Claudio! You dragged us into this, and now you're getting away with it?!"
They lunged toward the Claudio family with such ferocity that the ropes binding their bodies snapped taut.
"You damned bastards! I will curse your family even after I die! I will become a vengeful spirit and plague you with pain and misery for as long as you live!"
The families of the condemned also burned with hatred toward House Claudio.
Samon stared at the royal dais in the distance, his expression twisted with fury.
Peleus. Medea. You wicked bastards! You won't let us go until the very end!
By parading the Claudio family before the people at this precise moment, Medea and her brother had deeply engraved hatred against them into the minds of both the masses and the condemned.
So that the Claudios could never rise again in this country.
Samon clenched his fist.
Beneath the billowing sleeves of his white robe, his arms were covered in dark blue bruises—evidence of recent beatings.
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