Charlie’s Book Ch28

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 28

Conspiracy.

Other than this word, Dwight could think of no other way to describe the current chaotic situation. Who was behind the conspiracy? Priscilla, Tifa, Lestrop, or… himself, the Duke of Brandenburg, who shouldn’t have been here?

Priscilla said, “It’s different here than in Lemena.”

Though the pink roses were slowly withering, the sister standing before him still had a soft and beautiful face, and her skin and hair were as glossy as he remembered. Except occasionally revealing a faint melancholy and unease, her eyes looked at him with the usual concern and tenderness.

Was it really because she left Lemena that the roses were dying?

No matter what Priscilla’s life was like now, at least he had achieved his purpose for this visit, confirming her well-being with his own eyes. And he believed his sister wasn’t a mindless woman. She knew how to preserve herself amidst the complex interplay of power struggles.

Priscilla said, “You must leave immediately.”

Dwight suddenly reached up and rubbed his furrowed brow forcefully.

“You’re right,” he murmured to himself softly. “I should leave now.”

Priscilla sat in the room, trying hard not to let her maids notice her agitation. Since a murder had occurred, Lestrop had been busy, but he had invited a Viscountess to keep her company. Although Priscilla felt that the lady was like a cold water snake tightly coiling around her, making it hard for her to breathe, she couldn’t refuse her husband’s kindness.

Kindness…

She lowered her eyes, staring at a delicate ivory comb on the dressing table, lost in thought.

Her main concern now wasn’t this, but whether her brother had safely left the palace. With the suspected incident of the Queen killing the King’s mistress in his bedroom right before the King’s birthday, this was enough to make the nobles of neighboring countries secretly laugh for a whole year. Even just for the sake of appearance, Tifa would thoroughly investigate the murderer. If the city was under martial law, how would Dwight manage to leave the city? Although from another continent, the Duke of Brandenburg’s reputation was more widespread than everyone thought…

Priscilla unconsciously tightened her grip on the hem of her skirt, then quickly let go.

She and the Viscountess weren’t familiar, and she was too dispirited to feign interest, so she simply pretended to be unwell and wanted to go to bed early, hoping to send her away.

The Viscountess wanted to linger but was interrupted by a lady-in-waiting who rushed into the room. The lady-in-waiting dismissed all the maids before throwing herself at Priscilla’s knees. “My Lady, His Majesty and the Earl have started arguing, and it’s quite severe!”

Priscilla’s expression became serious, and she glanced at the Viscountess.

Even if clueless, matters concerning the King meant the Viscountess understood she could no longer stay, and she had to leave with a bow.

In theory, the King’s political dealings with the nobility and the Senate had nothing to do with the womenfolk, but between Tifa, Lestrop, and Priscilla, things were a bit delicate. Although they did not meet often, Tifa had always been particularly courteous to his sister-in-law, Lestrop’s wife Priscilla—this was politely put, but in reality, Tifa’s demeanor towards Priscilla had always seemed particularly indulgent, sometimes even showing a bit of excessive concern, which everyone had noticed since Priscilla first appeared as the Countess at court. But this wasn’t an inexplicable issue, as many older nobles said that in Priscilla’s gestures, there was much of Tifa’s older sister—former Princess Riley of the Mokwen Kingdom, who had died unexpectedly before she could marry and had been particularly close to Tifa.

This kind of behavior wasn’t even considered a royal secret, and Priscilla was quite restrained, never acting inappropriately despite the King’s favor; thus, the King’s unusual tenderness towards her was always maintained within reasonable limits. But now that this lady-in-waiting had come to summon her due to an argument between the King and her husband, whoever gave the order, the underlying implications were somewhat intriguing.

“That is your Queen.” Lestrop stood in the center of the room, staring at the seated King. “Insulting her will not bring you any benefits, Your Majesty.”

In the room, apart from the two brothers, there were no outsiders, and Tifa’s normally dignified expression had turned completely indifferent.

“You know that she is ‘my’ Queen,” the King said expressionlessly. “I decide where she stays, what she eats, what she wears, and who she sees. Why do you care so much?”

“I care about your reputation,” Lestrop said gravely. “Before the matter is clarified, you are treating your own wife as a murderer. If this is exploited by those with ulterior motives—”

A knock on the door interrupted the Earl. Turning around, he saw his wife walking in.

“Priscilla?” Lestrop frowned. “What are you doing here?”

The young Countess didn’t speak immediately.

“I called her here,” Tifa rotated the ring on his hand, “to remind you who the woman you should really care about is.”

The tall Earl’s face finally darkened.

“Brother, do you have some misunderstanding about me?” he said coldly.

Tifa chuckled lightly.

“What misunderstanding could I have about you?”

The two brothers stared at each other, like two regal lions in lazy poses, yet fully focused on their opponent, neither willing to look away first.

It was Priscilla who broke the escalating standoff.

“Your Majesty, the situation tonight is chaotic, and everyone is tired. Although I lack experience, I know that tired people can make irrational decisions,” she said softly. “The Queen has also been frightened. May I go see her? Even if I can’t offer much comfort, at least I want to tell her that Your Majesty and the lords are trying to prove her innocence and ask that she not worry.”

Lestrop raised an eyebrow, seemingly quite surprised she would say such a thing.

Tifa laughed again, although the smile stayed only on his lips, not reaching his eyes.

“Then, go and see Christine,” Tiffa said.

Priscilla glanced at her husband, then curtseyed and left the room.

Lestrop grimaced, but ultimately, he said nothing, leaving the room with Priscilla.

“Then I will go check on Her Majesty the Queen now,” Priscilla said, standing in the corridor. Despite the sudden events, her makeup and dress remained neat, her pink cheeks seemingly glowing under the corridor lights.

Lestrop was silent for a while before he said, “Don’t stay too long. The palace isn’t as safe as it seems.”

Priscilla nodded. Her light golden hair was styled into a beautiful braided bun; she was still young, and despite being married, she looked almost the same as the girl who had left her hometown alone years ago to marry into this far-off land.

Lestrop touched her cheek and watched as she disappeared from his sight.

Christine actually hadn’t received harsh treatment. In fact, as long as the Duchy of Lebis existed, Tifa couldn’t deal with Christine without going through the Duchy. She was well aware of this, so even though everyone accused her of being a witch who had murdered someone in her husband’s bedroom, Christine hadn’t lost her composure and dignity as the Queen.

She didn’t even show surprise at Priscilla’s arrival, nor did she attempt to plead her innocence to Priscilla.

“I have already explained everything to the King and the Senate. All that remains is to wait,” Christine said. “Thank you for coming to see me, Priscilla.”

Priscilla nodded. Both were nobly born and had received the finest education; even though they both knew that they held no affection for each other, they didn’t skimp on formalities.

“The Earl believes His Majesty’s decision was too hasty, and indeed, this small room does seem too confining for you,” Priscilla said softly. “I hope the true culprit is found soon.”

Christine looked at her, suddenly displaying an enigmatic smile.

“You’re really adorable, Priscilla,” she whispered, her words laden with ambiguous meaning. “No wonder he likes you so much.”

Priscilla’s expression remained unchanged, and she said gently, “His Majesty loves you very much. You are the only Queen of Mokwen, and although the situation is complicated, please don’t worry about this. Whoever orchestrated this conspiracy is bound to fail.”

The Queen looked at her silently. Christine was three years older than Priscilla but had no children, and Tifa having many mistresses was almost an open secret. As time passed, the Senate and the King’s dissatisfaction with her grew, and she didn’t think this matter would settle down quickly.

That person had forbidden everyone from contacting her at such a time yet had allowed Priscilla in… Was this a reminder or a warning?

Christine suddenly felt a deep weariness sweep over her, and the young Countess’ naive and delicate face even made her feel nauseated, igniting a desire to throw the cup in her hand without regard for decorum, to scream loudly, and order no one to enter the room, no one to speak to her—

“Your Majesty?” Priscilla asked, tilting her head in confusion, the light flickering in her eyes with her movement.

Christine snapped out of it.

“I’ll be alright,” Christine said. Although the Countess’ visit was of no help to her, she still patiently persuaded her to leave. However, as Priscilla was about to exit the room, she hesitated for a moment.

“Priscilla?” she called.

Priscilla turned back.

“I have a favor to ask of you.” The Queen stood there, looking somewhat haggard but with a straight back.

“Just a small favor. It won’t trouble anyone.”


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