TMBIPYMEN Chapter 32

Secret Games

King Ode Haienmorik selected trustworthy officials from among the palace bureaucracy and had them announce the marriage of Crown Prince Yustar Haienmorik.

A few conservative nobles grumbled that there was no need to welcome a consort for the crown prince when the position of queen still remained vacant, but even these people pricked up their ears in curiosity about who exactly would become Yustar's marriage partner.

The capital's citizens already held considerable affection for Yustar simply because he was the king's only brother, slowly withering day by day from an unknown illness, and served as commander-in-chief of the knight order 'Tentinella.'

Added to that, people gathered and chattered endlessly about which young lady would win the hand of this perfect man who possessed both handsome looks and excellent character.

For Layla, this became a tragedy.

"I absolutely cannot allow this!"

At Marchioness Hymierd's furious voice, the royal officials felt their hearts sink. Even the elders who had entered politics early and led state affairs had no choice but to shrink their necks like whimpering dogs before the marchioness's rage.

The fact that Yustar's marriage partner was not even a minor noble but a young lady from a small village didn't become the real problem. In normal circumstances, that alone would have been sufficient cause for concern, but this time was different.

The biggest problem was that the woman who would embrace Yustar—who had a bright future ahead and received the admiration of all Sierrow's citizens—was not an ordinary human.

Layla Chrysrad, daughter of a witch and a witch herself.

When Marchioness Hymierd heard the news that the girl with ominous black hair and blood-red eyes—features impossible to hide—would become Yustar's wife, she was so shocked that for a while her breathing became labored.

"His Royal Highness the Crown's Blood is another pillar of the kingdom. Especially during this time when His Majesty's illness grows prolonged, if anything should happen to His Royal Highness, who will lead Sierrow and take responsibility for state affairs? I cannot do it. None of you can either! He already carries the burden of such grave responsibilities and the duty of overseeing the knight order. And now you would have him take a witch as his wife! Does this make any sense at all?"

At the marchioness's passionate, anger-filled speech, several officials showed signs of agreement and murmured among themselves. Then the palace official who had been directly ordered by the king to prepare for Yustar's marriage cleared his throat.

"Everyone here knows that Marchioness Hymierd cares for His Royal Highness's wellbeing and spares nothing for Sierrow's peace. However, this matter is also a direct order that His Majesty gave to His Royal Highness. Unless His Royal Highness persuades His Majesty to rescind the command, what can we do?"

"So Count Tebern means to simply stand by and watch this happen?"

"What do you mean by that, Marchioness Hymierd? We are merely carrying out the orders His Majesty has given. And you speak of standing by! Then what are your words suggesting? That we should all rebel against His Majesty!"

After Yustar and Layla's marriage was officially announced, the officials engaged in wasteful arguments whenever they gathered, only to return home exhausted without reaching any conclusion.

Meanwhile, Layla heard the news that Marchioness Hymierd had gone so far as to visit King Ode and insist that the announcement of Yustar and Layla's marriage should be retracted.

Layla too had hoped that Marchioness Hymierd would break the king's absurd stubbornness, but unfortunately, the result she desired did not come to pass.

"Marchioness Hymierd has been banned from entering the palace for the time being."

When Mel brought the tea and delivered this news, Layla felt both frustration and guilt.

She was neither a noble nor an official, but she could vaguely grasp what being banned from the palace meant. It meant public humiliation and, furthermore, that one had fallen out of the king's favor.

But Marchioness Hymierd was not the type to grovel for forgiveness while watching the king's mood.

If the king imposed an unbearable punishment on her because of this matter, what on earth should she do? Layla could only stare blankly at the steaming tea, unable to hide her confusion.

"Mel, you used to serve Marchioness Hymierd, didn't you?"

Her voice was dazed. Mel looked at Layla with pity for a moment before answering.

"It's true that I mainly attended to her when the marchioness came. But I'm employed by the Sierrow palace, not the marchioness's personal employee. So saying I 'served Marchioness Hymierd' isn't quite the right expression."

"But you were close to her. What if she's put in danger because of me? Mel, you know more about the marchioness than I do. And about the king... His Majesty too. Tell me honestly. Is there any possibility at all that His Majesty might impose a punishment worse than banning her from the palace?"

A troubled look briefly crossed Mel's face.

"That's not something Lady Layla needs to worry about. The marchioness's affairs are for her to handle. I don't want to presume to comment on what His Majesty does either."

"But this all happened because of me!"

Layla suddenly cried out and clutched her head with both hands.

With her forehead buried against her knees, she remained that way for a moment. An event she had never even imagined had occurred, and because of it, she was suffering. Not just her, but other people too.

Mel said, "Lady Layla, don't be like this. You should go outside and get some fresh air. You've been in your room for days now. Of course you're getting depressed."

"I don't want to. If I go outside... Going outside is more painful. Everyone stares at me, everyone whispers. It was like that in my hometown too, but there I had places to hide, so I could bear it. If I didn't show myself, people half-forgot about me. But here there's nowhere to hide. Even when I'm hiding, everyone knows about me."

Mel's expression darkened further.

In truth, when she first learned that Yustar and Layla's marriage had been announced, she too had been shocked beyond knowing how to react.

Though she knew it was a foolish thought, she couldn't shake the suspicion that King Ode had completely lost his mind.

But she felt no hostility toward Layla.

Some people babbled whatever they pleased about how the witch must have used wicked tricks to bewitch the king and crown prince, but to Mel, who watched her closely every day, it was laughable nonsense.

Honestly speaking, Mel found it hard to believe that Layla was a witch at all. If not for the black hair and red eyes that only true witches could possess, she would certainly have dismissed it as a distorted rumor or lie.

In her eyes, Layla was nothing more than an inexperienced young lady with no worldly experience, suddenly dragged to a strange place and struggling to even take care of herself.

"I have no idea what he's thinking."

Layla squeezed out her voice with difficulty. Even pulling a fist-sized stone from her open throat wouldn't seem harder than this. But no answer came back from Mel.

"Mel?"

When Layla lifted her head, the person standing before her wasn't Mel. Though she hadn't heard any sound, Yustar stood there watching her with a sympathetic smile, somehow having entered without her noticing.

"Where did Mel go?"

"I told her to step out for a moment."

His voice was as gentle as always, but to Layla with her nerves on edge, even that provided little comfort.

Yustar glanced down at the tea and castella growing cold on the table.

"Have you eaten?"

"I have no appetite."

"I heard from the kitchen staff that you went all day without eating yesterday. And you skipped breakfast and lunch today too."

"I told you I have no appetite, Yustar. Leave me alone."

The end of her words came out sharp. Her already complicated mind seemed to dissolve completely into a scrambled mess.

After closing his mouth briefly, Yustar said, "If it's all right, may I sit beside you?"

Layla, who had been stubbornly keeping her head down, finally looked directly at him. Her lips trembled and her breathing scattered. Then she felt her chest surge with a strange sadness and heat.

'I don't want to allow it,' Layla thought.

'I want to tell him to leave right now. No, I want to tell him to just send me home. Ridgecarse or anywhere else is fine. I want to tell him to let me go somewhere, anywhere but here...'

But among the few demands she could make, Layla couldn't choose a single option. The fact that Yustar bore no responsibility for this was difficult to understand and painful.

Every time she tried to raise such words to him, every time she tried to grab him and demand he please reverse this absurd situation to how it was before, something stopped up Layla's mouth.

Invisible hands or perhaps something like soft jelly blocked her mouth, and eventually seemed to try to block even her breath. She felt a will that said if she would reject him, it would rather kill her.

The hardest fact to endure was that this "something" existed inside Layla herself.

"May I not?"

Yustar spoke again. The sofa was spacious anyway, and here he was royalty with power second only to the king. How could the permission of a mere ordinary woman—one pointed at as a witch—matter so much?

"...Sit down."

This time too, Layla yielded to the pressure of the unknown something writhing in her chest. Though she hadn't fought, she felt defeated.

Yustar sat down maintaining an appropriate distance from Layla and stared at her silently. His bright green eyes, which seemed like they would smell of fresh grass if the wind blew, reflected Layla's gloomy appearance and gently embraced it.

"Even without an appetite, you need to eat, Layla."

Layla held out without answering. That was the limit of resistance she could manage. Honestly speaking, even that felt somewhat painful.

'I'm going to go mad at this rate,' Layla sighed inwardly.

"Have dinner with me tonight. Actually, I meant to come yesterday too, but after dealing with a few urgent matters, it seemed to be a time when you'd already be asleep."

"I couldn't sleep a wink last night. I heard about Marchioness Hymierd."

Yustar's eyebrows drooped slightly with a strange light of compassion. Layla slowly inhaled the breath that kept trying to grow rough.

"Why did you come, Yustar?"