"When the shield becomes the sword, all must fall."
The Prince Regent said nothing at first.
Truth be told, the same concerns had been gnawing at him.
"Wait—what do you mean, attacked by assassins? Is it possible someone else knows where the document is hidden?"
"Others were targeting the mansion as well."
Samon continued, watching his father's expression carefully.
"From what I've learned, they were elite—the best of the best. We captured one alive and interrogated him. He turned out to be an imperial citizen."
"The empire? Who from Katzen would send operatives here?"
"That... I wasn't able to determine. The interrogation was incomplete when I had to flee. My apologies, Father."
If the assassin was an elite knight, he must be someone of considerable standing within the empire. But why would Katzen be involved?
The Prince Regent couldn't make sense of it.
Samon, reading his father's perplexed expression, spoke quickly.
"Someone in Valdina is likely trying to exploit our vulnerabilities using that certificate of acceptance. We're allied with Emperor Katzen while simultaneously courting Prince Jason, aren't we? What's to stop someone else from playing the same game?"
Not long ago, the Prince Regent and the Minister had been at each other's throats over the banquet incident.
"The Minister may have had a change of heart. He could have been planning to betray us."
Samon's face grew solemn.
"Father, you must decide. We need to deal with the Minister now. We have to move before they do if we're to survive. We must silence Etienne before they can extract more information from him."
The Prince Regent pressed his fingers against his throbbing temples.
Having to eliminate Etienne—his greatest ally—with his own hands felt like carving flesh from his own body.
Yet given the circumstances, with every path blocked, there was absolutely no other option.
He raised his head. A faded shield emblem hanging on the wall caught his eye—the coat of arms of House Claudio.
"Joaquin. As your brother's shield, you will protect this country with unwavering loyalty. Your brother is so capable—even if I die, he will endure."
The Regent remembered the counsel his father had given him in his youth, when he'd been banished from the palace after his older brother ascended the throne.
He bit his lip as if chewing on bitter truths.
*No, Father. I will not remain a shield forever.*
Duke Claudio's expression hardened with determination.
"Very well. It shall be done."
That night, a figure dressed entirely in black slipped out the back entrance of the Duke's estate.
Valdina's special prison lay deep beneath the earth.
The sound of footsteps echoed against wet stone floors. The Minister, who had been dozing fitfully, suddenly jerked awake at a sharp pain.
"Hngh—!"
A cold blue blade pressed against his throat.
"Lark Etienne. How dare you betray your master?"
"W-what are you talking about?"
Etienne looked around frantically, sweat pouring down his face.
*Where are the jailers? The guards? Why can't I see anyone?*
"Claudio! Are you trying to kill me again?! You treacherous bastards—you never know when to quit! You're trying to silence me!"
The man snorted at the pathetic outburst.
"Have you gone senile with age? You hid yourself so well I barely managed to track you down here."
"That's impossible! No one should have been able to get close—"
The Minister's eyes widened as realization struck.
*Good God... I fell for the Princess's trap.*
But it was far too late.
By the time Etienne understood everything, the gleaming blade had already sliced clean through his throat.
"Extra! Extra!"
Newsboys raced through the streets, their voices cutting through the morning air. A bold red headline blazed across the front page above Etienne's haggard portrait.
### LARK ETIENNE
DIES IN PRISON!
FORMER MINISTER FOUND DEAD • FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED "Really? Is it true?"
"He was a minister, wasn't he? Not only did he take bribes left and right, but he abused children and sold them to foreign countries! These people never do just one evil thing!"
"Hmph. That wretched man—he died well. Good riddance."
The Minister was dead.
Because he'd been a criminal awaiting execution for violating military law, no funeral was held. Instead, his body was unceremoniously dumped beneath the castle walls.
Whenever passersby saw the letters spelling "Etienne," they cursed and spat on the ground.
It was an unthinkably miserable and insignificant end for someone who had lived his entire life with the pride of high nobility.
The family's property was confiscated. The title was stripped away.
House Etienne collapsed catastrophically after losing its head, but there was no one left to mourn that fact.
However, some still questioned his sudden demise.
"A chronic illness? Nonsense! How long has he even been in prison that he suddenly falls ill? And someone as robust as Etienne!"
Coincidentally, the tragic massacre at Count Etienne's estate—which had occurred just before the Minister's death—only deepened public suspicion.
A one-sided slaughter bordering on annihilation.
People clicked their tongues at the excessively brutal cleanup.
"But wasn't the Minister the Duke's greatest right-hand man, both in name and reality? They'd worked together for years, and now suddenly..."
"Ha! Didn't you know? This is the true nature of the man we serve."
Members of the Regent's faction felt their hearts constrict with pressure and fear.
"He's making an example of the Minister. He's showing us exactly what will happen if we try to abandon his ship."
In the Princess's palace, Medea knelt reverently before an icon depicting the goddess.
After some time, she rose to her feet.
On the long altar beneath the sacred image, dozens of small angel statues—each no larger than her palm—stood in neat rows alongside flickering candles.
"Forgive me for taking so long. May your resentment fade, and may you sleep peacefully now, even if this peace comes late."
It was a small memorial service to honor the souls of the children who had been sacrificed by Etienne's cruelty.
After completing her prayers, Medea carefully picked up each angel statue and placed them reverently into a small coffin.
These were the children of Valdina. Therefore, she could never be free of responsibility.
*I promise you. I will never allow something like this to happen again.*
As a result of recent events, both arms of House Claudio—which had been controlling Valdina's palace—had been severed.
The Duke had even been forced to amputate one of those arms himself. He must be seething with rage.
"You were uncharacteristically hasty, Uncle. This is what happens when you ignore competent subordinates and entrust everything to your foolish son."
Contrary to her calm voice, it was a harsh evaluation.
The sight of Medea turning away after burying the children's coffins in the sunniest spot of the Princess's garden was striking—she stood as firm as an ancient tree that no wind or rain could shake.
Medea, who had erased her sorrow and returned to her composed self, summoned Saya.
"The slush fund that Etienne provided us before his arrest—bring it to me."
The secret fund she'd covertly stolen from the now-deceased Etienne was several times larger than the entire fortune Medea had once donated to establish the military villages.
If Etienne knew that the Princess who'd orchestrated his downfall had also made off with all his remaining assets, he would be vomiting blood in the afterlife.
"That poisonous old toad will be trembling in the underworld when he discovers we've stolen this enormous sum."
Saya giggled mischievously.
Neril spoke up, attempting to temper Saya's amusement.
"Now that both the Chief Maid and the Minister have fallen, even the Prince Regent won't be able to command the same authority as before."
"It's still too early to declare victory."
Medea's response was measured and calm.
"The imperial delegation will be arriving soon."
---