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Chapter 57
The nobles, shocked by the revelation that the queen had two children, quickly dispersed under Windsor’s command after murmuring amongst themselves. The true star of the grand coronation turned out to be Princess Esh.
“Erne…! No, Princess Esh—no! Your Majesty. I have something to say.”
Others didn’t dare approach Erne, intimidated by Windsor standing solidly at her side, but Derrick was different. Perhaps the saying was true—ignorance breeds courage.
“Speak.”
Derrick could not accept Princess Esh’s existence. This wasn’t just sprinkling ashes on cooked rice—it was supposed to be his day.
Though he had no choice but to kneel before the murderous aura of the Duke of Douglas, Derrick requested a private audience with Princess Esh the moment the coronation ended.
The instant she granted permission, Derrick thumped his chest and spoke in a fervent tone.
“I am Derrick Babylon. I was the fiancé of the late Princess Erne.”
“I know.”
Though she resembled Erne greatly, the small beauty mark under her left eye told him she was not the same person.
Unlike the innocent and pure Erne, the voice before him carried such authority that not even a needle could slip through her composure.
“It is, of course, a joy to see Your Majesty’s return. However, you are still unfamiliar with the political climate, and if there is any way I could be of service…”
His dream of seizing the throne was far from dead. Derrick assumed that, as someone unaccustomed to the Nesheld royal court, she would have many areas where she needed his help.
If he could stand at her side as an advisor, he could seize another chance. That was the only option left to him.
He had been running toward the throne his whole life—he wasn’t about to give it up now.
I was glad Erne was gone, only to find out there’s another princess!
Though bitter and resentful, Derrick began throwing all his effort into charming the newly crowned Queen Esh.
“If not, perhaps I could serve as Your Majesty’s regent, assisting you by your side. Since I was the late Princess Erne’s fiancé, there is no one more familiar with court affairs. I will ensure nothing harms Your Majesty.”
The Duke of Douglas’s deadly glare unsettled him, but Derrick boldly stated his case.
He had plenty of “reasons.” Nesheld was in turmoil, and an heir suddenly appearing to take the throne was bound to raise doubts.
Erne gave a faint, derisive snort at Derrick’s transparent motives.
The crown on her head might not have shown its weight, but to her, it felt crushing.
And now that she was in this position, she found it very awkward.
Still, I have Windsor.
Though tense while pretending to be Esh Nopia Nesheld, the knowledge that Windsor stood behind her brought her great comfort.
What’s there to fear when the mastermind is my backer?
With Windsor at her back, Erne steeled herself again.
The fact that Derrick didn’t suspect her of being Erne only proved she had some talent for acting.
“Your Majesty, why do you not speak?”
Her mind wandering, Erne had fallen silent, prompting a nervous edge to creep into Derrick’s voice.
When she finally fixed her gaze on him, there was no composure in the way he flaunted himself with grand gestures.
His syrupy flattery only made her ears itch.
Derrick kept talking and talking, but Erne hardly heard a word.
Is that a dog barking somewhere?
She narrowed her eyes slightly, looking down at him.
Her overwhelming charisma made Derrick flinch mid-sentence.
And despite everything, she felt oddly reassured—Derrick was still the same piece of trash he’d always been.
Thank goodness Derrick is consistently awful.
When she glanced back, Windsor’s stiff expression relaxed into a faint smile.
At their silent signal, Derrick, still wary, called out again—“Your Majesty?”—before Erne finally spoke.
“I shall accept only your sincerity.”
“…Pardon?”
“Do you not see the Duke of Douglas at my side? He will assist me—not you.”
“What…?” Derrick stammered, his face a picture of disbelief.
He looked back and forth between the queen on her throne and Windsor, shaking his head as if to clear it.
“The Duke of Douglas? But why…?”
“Because the Duke and I are going to be engaged.”
“You—you’re saying Your Majesty will marry the Duke of Douglas?”
“Yes.”
There was no reason to hide it, so Erne answered immediately. Derrick began to fume, a sharp contrast to the smooth flattery he had just been showering her with.
“How many times must I say it? I was the fiancé of the late Princess Erne!”
“I’m aware.”
“Then… then! Of course, I should be the queen’s fiancé! The late queen herself designated me as the heir’s betrothed. It’s practically her dying wish!”
Erne’s eyes narrowed.
His intentions were clear now—he’d planned to sidle up beside her under the guise of helping, only to claim the position of royal fiancé for himself.
It was absurd. She rubbed her temple.
His tactics were predictable, stale, and irritating.
Had she been wrong from the start, back when she thought he was a kind, considerate man?
Derrick, oblivious to her growing weariness, even began stamping his feet.
“Let’s be accurate. You were Erne’s fiancé, but never her husband. Why, then, are you so upset about my engagement?”
“I—I never said I was upset.”
When she struck the nail on the head, Derrick flushed red to the collar and began to calm down.
Erne clicked her tongue softly, resting her chin on her hand.
It was less dislike than outright disgust now—being in his presence for long was unbearable. She needed to send him away quickly.
“Very well. But you do have a point. By your logic, the Babylon family might indeed feel wronged.”
Derrick’s hopeless expression lit up with joy.
“Then…! Your Majesty will marry me, a Babylon…?”
But she cut him off before he could even finish.
“What can the Babylon family offer Nesheld?”
“…What?”
“I’m giving you a chance. Tell me—what can Babylon give me?”
Money? Soldiers? Babylon had nothing tangible to offer.
Especially in this economic climate, most noble houses survived only by allying with Douglas.
Their “military strength” amounted to treating the royal knights as their private forces.
Erne knew this well and struck directly at his weak spot.
As expected, his expression hardened, a flicker of anger surfacing.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I looked into your policies. Issuing government bonds to stabilize public sentiment, improving the finances of the people… admirable in theory.”
Derrick sucked in a breath.
He had assumed she was nothing but an obscure royal bloodline from nowhere—no better than the country-bred Erne.
He had been certain she’d be an easy opponent, especially since she’d never received proper royal training.
And yet here she was, radiating an undeniable aura.
Her voice carried weight, her etiquette flawless.
She knew the political climate of the court—and even understood it well.
“But, when it comes down to it, isn’t all that money from the Douglas family?”
Derrick looked up at her, his face stricken.
“That’s…”
“Wouldn’t it be simpler to bind the Douglas house to the royal family by marriage?”
“That’s absurd!”
At his shrill outburst, Erne’s expression chilled.
“Why.”
The sudden drop in her tone made his shoulders flinch.
Her charisma was already intimidating—now, with her icy voice and cold gaze, it doubled.
She didn’t bother to hide the contempt in her eyes.
“Why is it absurd? It’s a far more direct route than the roundabout way you propose.”
“That’s because Your Majesty doesn’t know what kind of man the Duke of Douglas really is!”
Her logic was sound, but Derrick refused to accept it.
Like a child throwing a tantrum, he argued back with flimsy reasoning.
Surely the queen didn’t yet know the duke’s true nature—once she did, she would choose Babylon over Douglas.
He still remembered vividly his unsettling encounter with the duke back in Vanessa. That chill he’d felt was no illusion.
Erne tilted her head at his fervent insistence.
“Is that so? Then what kind of man is the Duke, in your eyes?”
“A heartless, utterly cruel man!”
The words flew out instantly—and then he clamped both hands over his mouth.
“To speak ill of someone right to their face.”
Naturally, Windsor wasn’t the sort to let a remark like that slide.
So focused had Derrick been on the queen that he had forgotten the duke was right there, eyeing him with predatory menace.
“T-that’s not what I meant…”
“Is that the new trend for saying you want to die? One I haven’t heard of yet?”
“Gah!”
Derrick hastily denied it, but the words were already out.
He bit his tongue, trembling all over.
It was as if the grim reaper himself stood before him, scythe in hand.
