Chapter 65

Erne sighed deeply after locking eyes with Pasina.

She had felt uneasy about how quiet Pasina had been. By now, someone like her would’ve either tried to pick a fight, angry that Erne had ruined her grand plans to become Queen of Nesheld, or at the very least, buttered her up with fake pleasantries before stabbing her in the back.

“I knew her silence was unsettling.”

But she never expected it to come back like this.

Pasina’s words had caused a huge stir.

The ladies seated nearby were the first to react with alarm, each chiming in.

“Lady Sibire! What a rude thing to say!”

“Yes! You must apologize to Her Majesty right now!”

“Are you questioning Her Majesty’s lineage? You know how much she resembles the late Princess Erne…! Golden hair and golden eyes are symbols of Nesheld royalty. For someone like you to say such a thing is practically treason!”

They pretended to scold Pasina, but their words were scathing.

In contrast to the growing commotion around her, Erne quietly studied Pasina.

There was certainty in her eyes.

This wasn’t a baseless provocation. She truly believed what she had said.

Erne had to admit it—Pasina’s instincts were terrifyingly sharp.

And oddly enough, realizing that filled Erne with genuine joy.

On the tea table sat cold tea and a half-empty dessert plate.

Erne deliberated.

In hit makjang dramas with sky-high ratings, the villainess never backed off just because the heroine made a flashy comeback. The schemes always kept coming.

And the accusations Pasina had made weren’t unreasonable. They were suspicions Erne had anticipated.

As the noise escalated, Erne lifted her hand to calm the room.

When the Queen herself intervened, the ladies promptly fell silent, gauging the mood.

Though they had publicly taken her side, many still harbored lingering doubts.

And Erne knew—if she was going to dispel those doubts, now was the time.

Just then, she spotted the maid responsible for today’s tea party approaching with a tray.

Erne finally spoke.

“First, Lady Sibire. Could you clarify the intent behind your question?”

“Golden hair and golden eyes. I know well. They’re the radiant symbols of Nesheld’s royal family. But they aren’t exclusive to them. Commoners are born with such traits from time to time too.”

“And?”

“I only brought this up out of concern. When Your Majesty appeared, I recognized you instantly. You looked uncannily like the late Princess Erne. As if… you were Princess Eshe.”

“Right. And that wasn’t enough proof for you?”

“We must be certain. What if someone used dark magic to impersonate the princess and deceive Nesheld?”

It was clear. Pasina was trying to provoke her—force her to request a divine parentage test at the temple.

She’s convinced I’m not Princess Eshe, but Erne.

The temple had already tested Erne’s lineage when her royal status was reinstated. If she underwent that test again, it would undeniably prove she wasn’t Eshe, but Erne.

That’s what Pasina is after.

Erne let out a dry chuckle at her former friend’s daring provocation.

She really thinks I’m the same timid, country bumpkin Erne from the past.

Just then, the maid who had been wheeling in the tray approached.

“Your Majesty, I’ve brought the featured dessert for today’s tea party.”

“Yes. I requested something special from the royal chef for today’s honored guests.”

With a practiced smile, Erne rose to her feet.

The towering cake, generously adorned with whipped cream, was massive—clearly made to impress. It was neatly stacked on a three-tiered tray.

Erne busied herself separating the layers.

“Oh my, will we be able to finish it all?”

“Don’t worry. The first and second tiers will be more than enough.”

“Then what about the largest cake at the bottom? It’s such a waste!”

As someone voiced concern over the third-tier cake, Erne smiled faintly.

The moment some of the ladies tried to help her dismantle the three tiers, a hand reached toward the bottom layer—and Erne grabbed it.

“Wait.”

“Y-yes?”

“I have another use for this one. Just help me serve the first and second tiers.”

“O-of course, Your Majesty.”

Another use?
Everyone wondered the same, but no one dared question her directly.

Thanks to the cake, the atmosphere began to settle.

The untouched third-tier cake sat in front of Erne as she took her seat, and the rest followed suit.

“Well then. Shall we continue the conversation?”

Her theatrical display had been deliberate.

Because suspicion was like a ripple—it grew into a tidal wave if left unchecked.

She needed to steer the momentum away from Pasina’s accusations.

As expected, Pasina looked deeply frustrated.

Not just because she’d lost the timing to push further—but because the cake had distracted everyone, softening their suspicions.

But Erne knew Pasina wouldn’t back down so easily.

“What was it Lady Sibire just said? That someone used dark magic to impersonate a princess and ascend to the throne?”

“N-no! That’s not what I meant…”

No one noticed Erne subtly twisting Pasina’s words. The cake had drawn too much attention.

“Is that so? Then what was it—are you saying I’m a fraud?”

“I only meant that someone might try such a thing! Out of concern!”

Pasina scrambled to backtrack as she realized how the situation was turning against her.

The conversation was now completely under Erne’s control—and Pasina knew it.

Even the chill in the room told her so.

“I simply… wanted to confirm that Your Majesty really is Princess Eshe…”

“Oh my. How thoughtful of you to worry so deeply for Nesheld. If an imposter had taken my place, it would’ve been disastrous. But thankfully, that’s just a baseless fear. There’s no way I’m a fake, right?”

“……”

“But you’ve made me curious…”

Erne let her words trail off deliberately. Her tone was light, even gentle, but it made everyone instinctively lean in to listen.

“What exactly do you mean by dark magic? Are you suggesting one of the kingdom’s certified royal mages used it behind my back?”

Now it was Erne returning Pasina’s accusations right back at her.

Pasina began to pale visibly.

She must’ve thought she could just declare “Princess Erne is alive and masquerading as Eshe!” and people would rally behind her.

Tsk.
Clearly, she hadn’t thought through the consequences.

“I…”

Pasina trembled so hard it was painful to watch.

She now understood just how much damage her careless words had done.

And Erne gave her no room to retreat.

“There’s only one dark magic I know of.”

“What is it, Your Majesty?”

A curious young lady, unable to contain herself in the tense silence, cautiously asked. Erne welcomed the question and replied,

“The Star-Chasers.”

“Gasp.”

“Banned in Nesheld. The forbidden sorcerers. They’re the only ones who can wield dark magic.”

Everyone held their breath.

The Star-Chasers were taboo in Nesheld. Even uttering their name had long been avoided, for fear of being suspected of consorting with them.

“Lady Sibire, tell me. Didn’t my late mother ban all Star-Chasers and have them rooted out entirely? Or are you suggesting that some remain, practicing their craft in secret under the royal family’s nose?”

“I-it’s not that…”

“Or maybe you’re saying one of the palace mages is secretly a Star-Chaser in disguise? Either way, it’s a grave matter.”

As Erne thoughtfully brushed her chin, Lady Morgana, now pale, stammered out,

“Surely not, Your Majesty. Who would dare defy royal law like that? I’m sure Lady Sibire only brought it up because she’s worried about Your Majesty’s recent coronation and wanted reassurance. Right, Lady Sibire?”

Even if Morgana didn’t particularly like Pasina, she recognized the severity of what had just been said and tried to reel things back in.

“Yes. Overthinking can be dangerous,” Erne replied as if agreeing, though in truth she had no intention of letting Pasina off the hook so easily.

Everyone had just begun to relax, thinking the Queen wasn’t angry after all, when—

“But… was it truly just overthinking? To my ears, it sounded more like an insult. A mockery.”

Her voice chilled the air once more.

The atmosphere, which had briefly calmed, reignited like a flame meeting oil.

Oh no. The ladies gasped and covered their mouths.

They had mistaken Erne’s composed face for leniency—but behind it lay quiet, simmering fury.

Erne smiled sweetly at Pasina, who was now trembling, unable to conceal her hostility.

Then, she slowly looked down at the round whipped-cream cake before her.

It was time for the cake to serve its true purpose.

“Go, X-ketmon!”