Under the trembling guidance of the chamberlain, Elvia, dressed in a dark green velvet court gown, walked steadily into the king's bedchamber.
Her skirt swept across the polished marble floor, making almost no sound.
She stopped beside the king's sickbed.
She gracefully performed an impeccable curtsy.
When she raised her head, a proper smile played on her lips.
She looked at the man on the bed, once majestic, but now as withered as rotten wood.
In the depths of her heart, a cold sense of satisfaction welled up.
But she hid this emotion extremely well.
As the king turned his neck with difficulty to look over, she quickly let sorrow and worry flood her eyes.
She turned to the old chamberlain standing at the foot of the bed with his head bowed.
She lightly lifted her chin, gesturing with her eyes for him to leave.
The old chamberlain's body stiffened.
He looked up to meet Elvia's gaze, then quickly lowered his head again.
Yet his feet seemed rooted to the spot, and he did not move.
If anything happened to the king now, his entire family would not survive.
Moreover, there were simply too many people who wished for this king to “die of natural causes” now.
A sharp, cold gleam flashed in Elvia's eyes.
Though it lasted only an instant, it made the old chamberlain feel as if he had fallen into an ice cave.
He immediately bowed deeply and practically jogged out of the bedchamber.
He gently closed the heavy, carved wooden door behind him.
“Click.”
The sound of the lock clicking into place was exceptionally clear in the empty bedchamber.
The sorrow on Elvia's face vanished instantly, as if she had removed a mask.
She smiled faintly and walked straight to the bedside.
Without any hesitation, she sat down on the edge of the soft sickbed.
“Father,” her voice was soft, carrying just the right amount of concern, “do you feel any better?”
The king's gray, lifeless eyes stared at her coldly.
There was no warmth in them, only scrutiny and habitual majesty.
“...What are you doing here?”
The concern in Elvia's eyes vanished instantly.
She curled her lips into a smile that was beautiful yet entirely devoid of warmth.
“I came to see you, and also to see... what has become of this Royal Capital.”
Her tone was calm, as if she were talking about the weather.
“Charles and Diana are fighting to the death, and assassinations have become a daily occurrence.”
“The great nobles are placing their bets, and the council is a mere figurehead.”
“Father, tell me... no matter which of them wins in the end,”
She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice, but every word was crystal clear.
“will you, the ‘former king,’ still be alive to see the sun rise the next day?”
The king's breathing suddenly quickened.
His chest heaved, and a rattling sound came from his throat.
“So... what of it!” He squeezed out a hoarse voice with all his might.
“My body... the priests already said... won't last much longer!”
A strong sense of unwillingness surged in his eyes.
It was a longing for supreme power, a reluctance to let go of luxurious pleasures.
It was an endless craving for everything the title of King could bring.
The future of the kingdom, the well-being of the subjects—
in his cloudy eyes at this moment, none of it could compare to the supreme pleasure he was about to lose.
Elvia saw the emotions in his eyes clearly.
A trace of undisguised contempt flashed through her gaze.
This old thing, who had crowned himself with the title of ‘the greatest king in Carter's history,’
was nothing but a power-hungry, death-fearing coward to his very bones.
As for familial affection? When had he ever shown her any?
Just because her mother did not come from a prominent noble family, all the achievements she had made by running around and mediating for the Carter Royal Capital, even risking her life to accomplish them, had been casually dismissed by him.
To this day, she was still ‘Elvia Rolan,’ not ‘Elvia Carter.’
He was too stingy to even grant her his surname.
But now...
whether he wanted to give it or not was no longer up to him.
“Father,” Elvia suddenly chuckled, her tone becoming subtle.
“Do you still remember the Lyon Knights I sent to the Black Demon Forest to find the ‘only cure’ for you?”
The king's cloudy eyes trembled violently!
“Cough! Cough, cough! You... you mean...!”
In his excitement, he tried to prop his body up, but only succeeded in making his skeletal arms tremble in vain.
“That's right,” Elvia laughed.
Her laughter sounded somewhat abrupt in the silent bedchamber.
“The ‘Umbral Tree Flower’ that can cure the poison of decay in your body,”
“was delivered to my hands back when I was still in Caran City.”
She leaned close to the king's face, which was distorted with excitement and desire, and said word by word:
“In other words, I can save your life.”
“I can let you continue sitting on that golden throne, enjoying your supreme power.”
“Quick! Give it to me! Give it to me!!”
Like a dying stray dog catching sight of meat, a terrifying light erupted in the king's eyes.
His claw-like hand lunged forward to grab Elvia's sleeve.
Elvia laughed wantonly.
Her laughter was filled with the sarcasm and pleasure that had been bottled up for years.
Then, her smile instantly turned cold, her gaze freezing to the bone.
“Why should I give it to you?”
The king froze, seemingly unable to comprehend her words.
Then, his face flushed with the remnants of his habitual rage.
“I! In the name of the king, command you! Give that thing to me!!”
“Otherwise... otherwise, I will have you killed!!”
“Kill me?”
Elvia tilted her head.
As if she had heard something utterly hilarious.
In the next second, her right hand shot out like lightning.
She precisely choked the king's wrinkled neck!
Her fingers tightened.
The king's eyes bulged in terror.
His mouth hung open, but he couldn't make a proper sound, only a rattling noise like a broken bellows.
Elvia looked down at him, her eyes filled with undisguised, icy murderous intent.
“Heh... old thing, do you really think you're still the king who holds the power of life and death over others?”
“Even if I snap your neck right now, no one will investigate it.”
“They would even help me cover it up, thanking me for saving them the trouble.”
Her grip loosened slightly, allowing the king to catch his breath.
But her words were colder than before.
“If you weren't still of some use... I would have sent you to the Netherworld Sea long ago.”
Seeing that the king was about to suffocate again, Elvia released her hand in disgust.
She leisurely pulled a silk handkerchief from the inner side of her skirt.
She carefully wiped every single finger that had just touched the king's neck, as if she had touched something filthy.
“You... cough, cough... you can't... I am your father!!”
Slumped on the pillow, tears and snot streaming down his face, the king cried out hoarsely.
“Hahaha!”
Elvia laughed as if she had heard the biggest joke in the world.
She covered her forehead and laughed so hard her shoulders shook.
The laughter stopped abruptly.
She suddenly leaned in close.
Her molten-gold eyes locked onto the king's terrified eyes.
Looking down at him, she said word by word, like a final judgment:
“Now you know you're my father?”
“Too bad I have never regarded you as one.”
“Listen, old thing.”
“Hand over all the remaining chips in your hand—”
“the shadow guards, the keys to the secret treasury, the unpublished royal decrees, the loyalists hidden all over the place—”
“hand everything over to me.”
“Or, you can choose to rot with them and go down to the Netherworld Sea to meet the past kings.”
“Do you understand?”
“Old. Thing.”
Rate on N.U.
