Chapter 89: Yveste’s Despair
An unbearable sense of restlessness crept over Yveste, her expression growing colder with each passing moment. The air around her seemed to cool as well.
“Three hundred thousand. Let me meet him,” Felit added casually, his demeanor still calm, as if oblivious to the chill radiating from her.
“Felit,” Yveste finally spoke, her voice sharp as a blade, “if you mention this again, I will kill you.”
Her icy gaze cut into the silver-haired prince.
Felit’s eyes flickered with a trace of surprise at her words. Slowly, the corners of his mouth curved upward.
“You’re becoming more and more intriguing, Yveste,” he said, amused. “It seems this man holds an extraordinary place in your heart.”
“This is the first time I’ve seen you display such an expression for someone, my dear sister.”
“It’s nothing but a matter of cleanliness,” Yveste replied, a fleeting moment of hesitation flashing in her eyes before she masked it. “What’s mine is mine. No one else is allowed to touch it. If anyone dares, I’ll chop their hand off.”
“That includes you, Felit.”The atmosphere became instantly tense, brimming with hostility.
Seeing this, Felit shook his head. “Honestly, I’m saying this for your own good.”
“From what I know of you, this man is likely someone you’ve forcibly kept by your side.” His voice remained unfazed by her threat. “But someone like that will never truly submit to you through coercion.”
“Even if you can make him serve you now, there will come a day when he’ll do everything in his power to leave you.”
“And when that time comes, the tables will turn. What kind of expression will you have then, as the one left chasing after him?”
“Will it be like when we bullied you as children, and you cried endlessly, clutching your face?”
“That’s none of your concern,” Yveste retorted coldly, clearly unaffected by his words. “If that day ever comes, and he turns out to be such a disobedient dog, I’ll strangle him myself.”
Felit shook his head with a faint smile.
“I take back what I said earlier,” he remarked. “Yveste, it seems you still haven’t changed in the slightest.”
“Someone as twisted as you doesn’t deserve to be king.”
“It’s not you who’s remarkable—it’s that man.”
“You’re right,” Yveste replied evenly. “It’s not me, but him. And that’s why as long as I have him, it’s enough.”
Her words left Felit momentarily stunned. Then he laughed softly, mockingly.
“Aren’t you at all curious why I suddenly want to take him from you?”
Yveste’s brow furrowed slightly.
At this moment, the Second Prince, who had been all calm and composed earlier, adopted a different expression.
Yveste faintly sensed an invisible malice emanating from him.
“Perhaps these months you’ve spent away from the Imperial Capital have left you complacent,” Felit said, his voice turning cold. “You’ve forgotten the intrigue and betrayal that always surrounded us.”
“Or maybe you’ve become overly smug now that you have capable subordinates and the support of an Elector Count.”
“Honestly, I found it hard to keep a straight face the moment you seriously declared war on me.”
“Yveste, Yveste,” he continued, malice gleaming in his eyes. “From the day you were born, everyone predicted your fate as the ‘Princess of Sin.’”
“You are a person without a future.”
“No matter how much it seems like you’re catching up to us now, those words still hold true.”
“After all, you haven’t forgotten, have you? Why didn't Father smother you in the cradle the day you were born?”
Felit’s words seemed to dredge up painful memories for Yveste.
A flicker of anguish passed through her eyes, and she turned away, gazing silently out the window.
After a long pause, she said softly, “Of course I haven’t forgotten.”
“I am... a ‘tool.’”
“A tool that exists to help the Empire purge its hidden crises. That’s the only reason I’ve survived to this day.”
On the day of her birth, every newborn in the Imperial Capital, regardless of their family’s wealth or status, had perished overnight.
The Cardinal of the Divine Order Church had even prophesied that she bore a curse, one rejected by the gods, destined to bring endless destruction and calamity to the world.
And yet, Saint Roland VI had defied all opposition, allowing her to live and raising her into adulthood.
Many might view this as a profound act of fatherly love.
But those within the royal family, like Felit and the other princes and princesses, understood all too well that in the cold and ruthless palace, familial affection was the least likely thing to exist.
The only reason Saint Roland VI had allowed Yveste to live was that the benefits she could bring far outweighed the resistance from both the public and the elite.
“Good,” Felit said coldly. “In that case, as a ‘tool,’ stop indulging in pointless daydreams.”
“This isn’t an attempt to undermine you; it’s simply a statement of fact,” Felit continued with calm indifference.
“It’s not just me—this is how the nobility of the Imperial Capital, the church, and even those old fossils in the Elder Council see it.”
“The reason I want to take that young man away from you is precisely because of this.”
“Why should he waste his life following someone destined for ruin, only to meet a tragic end himself? He’d be far better off choosing a worthier master, someone whose name will be etched into the history of Saint Roland Empire.”
Yveste, on the verge of exploding, opened her mouth to retort, but Felit raised a hand to forestall her.
“Besides,” he said with a smirk, “I think there’s something far more pressing for you to worry about than Lynn Bartleon right now.”
“After all, even you might soon find yourself unable to protect your own position. Do you really have the time to bother with someone else?”
Yveste froze, stunned by his words.
Then, as if struck by a sudden realization, disbelief flashed in her eyes.
Felit observed her reaction with satisfaction, pulling a small envelope sealed with red wax from his pocket as he rose leisurely from the sofa.
“You’ve guessed correctly,” he said, placing the envelope on Yveste’s desk. “My main purpose for coming to Orne City this time was... you.”
He tapped the letter lightly. “After learning that you failed to recover the Creationist Sect’s sealed artifact, our dear father threw quite the public tantrum back in the Imperial Capital.”
As she looked at the envelope, Yveste’s face began to pale, an unusual pallor washing over her usual composed expression.
“A mere ‘tool’ acting so willfully,” Felit continued with a sneer. “Father might tolerate it on occasion, but if your caprices cause you to neglect your duties... do you think he’ll continue to turn a blind eye?”
Yveste didn’t answer.
Her trembling fingers reached out to pick up the letter. As her eyes scanned the familiar handwriting, filled with reproach and fury, her expression became wooden.
Whatever the contents, they were enough to drain the blood from her face, leaving the Princess visibly shaken.
The room fell silent once more, but this time, the silence was stifling.
After a long pause, Yveste set the letter down and, lowering her head, asked softly, “What will happen if I refuse this task?”
“You’ll be stripped of your title as the Third Princess and reduced to an ordinary noble,” Felit replied, his eyes narrowing. “Naturally, without that title, you’ll also lose your membership in the Saint Oak Institution and forfeit any right to participate in the succession ceremony.”
His voice was flat and emotionless, as if delivering an unalterable decree.
“Frankly,” Felit added with a shrug, “I’d recommend you refuse. It would be the smarter choice.”
To him, Yveste had never been worthy of serious attention, nor had he ever considered her a threat on his path to the throne.
But for Yveste, refusal was not an option.
Her ambition, her desire for the throne, had never wavered, even though no one believed in her chances.
“I accept,” she said softly after a long silence.
With her head bowed, Felit couldn’t make out her expression.
“Is this really what you want?” he asked, though her answer did not surprise him. “You’ve carried out your ‘duties’ as a tool before. You should know better than anyone the risks involved.”
“Remember the last time you dealt with a Level 1 sealed artifact? You were unconscious for five whole months afterward. Everyone thought you wouldn’t wake up, yet somehow, you managed to surprise us.”
“But this time?” Felit’s tone was almost mocking. “How long will you remain unconscious this time? Will you still be lucky enough to survive?”
“Or perhaps,” Felit continued, his voice laced with cruel amusement, “even if you manage to claw your way back from endless pain and torment, you’ll lose control of the curse and mutate into some terrifying, malevolent abomination?”
“......”
Yveste said nothing, clutching the envelope in her hands so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
At this moment, merely maintaining her current composure demanded all her strength. She had no words left to respond to Felit’s taunts.
The once-proud and commanding Third Princess had vanished, replaced by a soul writhing in pain and helplessness.
Perhaps no one outside the royal family had ever witnessed this vulnerable, despairing side of her.
Seeing her in such a state, Felit decided his message had been delivered. He turned to leave, satisfied.
In his eyes, Yveste never had a chance to begin with.
If anyone was to blame, it was that Lynn, who had filled her with hope that was never hers to have.
Only for her to crash back into the abyss once more.
It was an act of needless cruelty.
“Think it over carefully,” Felit said as he walked away without looking back. “That boy from the Bartleon family is quite interesting. The Imperial Capital is his true stage. There’s no need for him to share in your senseless risks.”
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