The Princess’s Final Wish Before Her Time Runs Out - Chapter 80

The meeting resumed.

The delegates from Latran arrived a little later than those from the Eastern Kingdom.

As they took their seats, the prince—lounging with one leg crossed over his knee and a disinterested look on his face as he chatted casually with his aides—raised his eyebrows high in surprise.

“…Well, this is something.”

He let out a scoff, half a laugh.

Sitting at the head of the Latran delegation, Adler Reissfeld gave the prince a polite smile and nodded courteously.

“Shall we continue the talks, Your Highness?”

The prince smirked, lifting one corner of his mouth.

“Sure. Now that you’re here, perhaps things will move along faster.”

But despite his words, the meeting dragged on just as before.

The prince kept stalling, just like he had before the break. Or at least, he tried to. The difference now was that Adler Reissfeld didn’t fall into his trap.

“Didn’t you say that issue needs your elder brother’s approval?”

“Then let’s set that one aside for now. The next matter concerns the amount of grain your kingdom requested. Providing that much, with no interest, is unprecedented.”

“Then let’s set a new precedent.”

“This requires approval from both the council and His Majesty. It’s not something I can decide on my own. And since you, too, can’t decide everything alone, shall we move on to the next topic?”

“……”

The prince’s face gradually hardened. The indifference he had worn so easily earlier was now replaced with irritation.

He realized he had misjudged his opponent.

Adler Reissfeld was exactly as Sheffer Verus had warned before the meeting began. He wasn’t like the usual officials the prince was used to dealing with.

“Do not underestimate him, Your Highness. He’s a man who could build a nation with nothing but his words.”

Ignoring his advisor’s repeated warnings not to push this issue until the time was right, the prince brought up something he should have left alone.

“Tell me—everything you’re saying…”

A crooked smile tugged at the prince’s lips.

“Are these really your own words… or do they come from Duke Hespelt?”

For a moment, Adler Reissfeld’s face stiffened. It was only a flicker, but the prince—sharpened by years on the battlefield—did not miss it.

“You serve House Hespelt, don’t you? Every word you’ve spoken so far sounds like it’s been for their benefit alone.”

At the sudden mention of the Hespelt family, murmurs broke out among the Latran delegation. Even the crown prince’s aide looked confused.

“I don’t understand your point, Your Highness. The House of Hespelt is loyal to both the Empire and the Crown.”

“Naturally. The Crown did grant them far more power than they deserve.”

“……”

“I wonder if the new Duke Hespelt believes that power is truly justified.”

That’s how wars usually began.

They were dressed up with noble causes and righteous ideals, but when you looked deeper, the truth was often petty and mundane.

A path that needed securing. A rare spice essential to cuisine. Or just a long-standing grudge.

When someone’s old resentment became wrapped in clever words, and personal greed got mixed in, war could grow out of control before anyone realized it.

That’s what the prince was doing now—provoking Adler on purpose, trying to create a justification.

If Adler had even a shred of a warrior’s pride, he might have reacted. But he was a scholar—cold and composed to the core.

“Does the Eastern Kingdom want war?”

Adler Reissfeld asked the question in a calm, low voice, more like a sigh than an accusation.

The prince let out a loud laugh.

“War? No. We don’t want war.”

He leaned forward, lifting his back from the chair. The once-apathetic prince now gave off a chilling, dangerous aura.

“We want fertile land and resources. Whether or not there’s a grudge involved doesn’t change the plan.”

“……”

“It doesn’t matter how it starts or what the reason is. We’ll take what we need.”

The sharp glint in his smile made Adler rise to his feet at once.

The prince sneered.

“You should’ve reacted like this from the beginning.”

And just as he finished speaking, the prince flipped over the round table with a loud crash.

Soldiers from the Eastern Kingdom stormed into the hall.

We’ve been ambushed.

Latran’s knights inside the room quickly drew their swords, and those waiting outside charged in, weapons in hand.

Adler stepped back behind his knights. As a pure scholar, he didn’t even carry a ceremonial blade. One of the crown prince’s aides unsheathed his sword and handed Adler his spare.

I have to survive this.

He swallowed hard and gripped the sword tightly, praying that the knights of House Hespelt would arrive in time.

Meanwhile, Rashid rode hard toward the meeting hall, leading just over twenty elite knights.

A bad feeling gnawed at him—and those feelings were never wrong.

Adler had promised to find a way to avoid conflict, but both Rashid and the crown prince had known it was nearly impossible.

Still, they had held on to the slightest hope.

“……!”

Suddenly, Rashid yanked the reins, pulling his black horse to a harsh stop. The horse reared back, hooves slamming down as it twisted to a halt.

Thump.

An arrow landed right in front of him. Just a step more and it would have hit where he was.

“Ambush, my lord!”

Rashid’s eyes scanned the surroundings faster than any words could reach him. The glint of light on armor revealed the positions of hidden enemies.

Twenty? No… maybe twenty-two?

He quickly estimated their numbers. But however many they were, they wouldn’t stop him.

“What a waste of life.”

Rashid grinned fiercely.

If they were lying in ambush here, that meant the meeting hall had already descended into chaos.

“Ten stay with me. The other ten, push ahead—get to the hall and protect the delegation!”

Without hesitation, the knights obeyed, splitting into two groups. One stayed with Rashid, the other sped up and galloped forward.

“Leave no one alive.”

With that, the knights drew their swords—and the battle began.

He drew his sword and spurred his horse into motion. With a loud whinny, the horse surged forward again. The enemy rushed toward him.

The battle had begun.

Clang!

The teacup slipped from Tericia’s hand, shattering loudly on the floor.

“My lady!”

Mandy rushed to her in alarm.

“Are you hurt?”

“Ah… no.”

Tericia tried to steady her suddenly racing heart as she replied.

“I’m fine. My hand just lost strength for a moment.”

But contrary to her words, her hand was trembling ever so slightly.

What is this…?

She didn’t know why. She had been enjoying a quiet afternoon tea, when all of a sudden, a heavy and ominous feeling dropped into her chest, and her grip gave out.

Did something happen to Rashid?

Unease began to take root in her.

She knew that after Adler left for the negotiations, Rashid had also been ordered by the crown prince to follow him.

He had promised there would be no danger—that it was a peaceful negotiation, and both sides would be lightly armed only for basic protection.

“Mandy, call for Orzo.”

Mandy, who had been cleaning up the broken cup and preparing a new set, froze.

“The alchemist?”

“Yes, as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, my lady.”

As Mandy left the sitting room, a quiet stillness settled over Tericia’s room. Sitting still for a moment, she finally stood, unable to bear it any longer.

It’s not time yet. The war Rashid last went to hasn’t happened yet.

Tericia began walking slowly around the room, trying to clear her mind. But each step was heavy with anxiety.

Not everything is playing out exactly as I remember it. The war may not happen this time. Then why do I feel so uneasy?

Just then—knock knock—came a knock at the door.

“…!”

Tericia turned toward it. The firmly closed door now felt oppressively large.

“My lady, Orzo is here.”

Mandy’s voice followed soon after, and Tericia let out a quiet breath.

Even her own actions were starting to feel unfamiliar to her.

“My lady?”

When she didn’t reply, Mandy called again.

Tericia clenched her fist, held it tight, then released it. Her trembling heart began to settle slightly.

“Let him in.”

Thankfully, her voice sounded just like it always did.

At her permission, the door opened, and a man with ash-grey hair hesitantly stepped inside.

It was his first time being summoned to her personal sitting room, and Orzo kept glancing nervously around the room until his eyes met Tericia’s. His tense expression softened into a smile—one filled with genuine respect and loyalty.

“Mandy, don’t let anyone else in for a while.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Tericia sat down first at the tea table and nodded to Orzo, inviting him to take a seat.

Noticing her serious demeanor, Orzo cautiously sat across from her.

“You called for me, my lady?”

Instead of answering right away, Tericia took a moment to collect her thoughts before speaking.

“Orzo, how much of the elixir can you produce before winter arrives?”

“Hm… at this rate…”

Orzo paused, doing the calculations in his head.

Production was going smoothly. There were plenty of Sedamen flowers, and the other materials were in good supply.

The only delay was that Orzo handled the crucial extraction process from the Sedamen flowers alone, to keep the elixir’s true purpose hidden.

“If things continue as they are, we’ll have enough for five battalions before winter.”

It was a considerable amount—but it didn’t feel like enough to Tericia.

“Triple the output before the first snowfall.”

“…Pardon?”

“I’ll spare no support,” she said firmly. “If you need help, I’ll lend a hand myself.”

“My lady…”

“Whatever it takes, make sure we have enough—more than enough.”

Before she realized it, Tericia had clenched her fist again.

She couldn’t tell whether the pain she felt came from her palm… or from something deeper, flowing outward from her chest.

Far above, a trained bird circled in the sky.

Out for a walk in the palace courtyard, the Crown Prince noticed the bird’s odd behavior and stopped in his tracks.

He watched it silently for a long moment. Then he slowly raised his arm toward the sky.

The circling bird dove toward him, flapping its wings powerfully before landing neatly on his arm.

The crown prince stroked its head approvingly, pulling a treat from a small pouch he always carried.

A tiny scroll tube was tied to the bird’s leg. With practiced ease, he retrieved and unrolled the tightly wound message.

As he read the words, his expression turned grim.

Negotiations Failed.

The rushed handwriting scrawled across the small sheet said it all.

It had begun, the first crack in the storm to come.

The war long foreseen, had arrived.

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