Fakes Don’t Want To Be Real - Chapter 85

FAKES DON’T WANT TO BE REAL

~ 85 ~

 

* * *

A statue was beside the door of the conference hall, with the same height of an adult male.

Psychke looked at the statue with a strange feeling.

 

‘I was kicked out of here in the past.’

 

Was it around this time in the past? Back in time, Lennox forgot some materials he needed in this room and she scrambled to get in on time for him.

 

‘Why are you here?’

 

But what returned to her was his contempt. Lennox said that the meeting was already over and that she should have come sooner. He even threw the data and cursed.

Enduring his words, she went home and unexpectedly, she was greeted with rain and got wet. The material she managed to organize disappeared like a sandcastle. At that time, she had an idea; of stopping what she had been doing until then.

And like a running wagon…

 

“What are you doing not going in?”

 

With that voice, she turned her head.

That day, and even now.

Standing next to me was a man who shined just by his existence like a star in the night sky.

 

She slowly blinked her eyes and replied slowly.

 

“I was waiting to come in with you.”

“I know when you will come.”

“언제 올 줄 알고.”

 

Even if he said so, he was still happy to wait. He smiled at her, stretching on arm to her.

Psychke naturally placed her hand there.

 

“I should have come sooner.”

“Did you have a good talk together?”

“Just what. It was so obvious that it wasn’t even funny.”

 

As soon as they arrived at the conference hall, the Crown Prince asked to see them briefly.

 

‘It seemed like he wanted the princess to be brought here somehow.’

 

Verndia found it quite funny.

When Verndia said he had no intention of breaking up his marriage with Psychke, he said he was the Emperor’s dog and now, what would he spew?

Ding- Ding- Ding-

A bell rang to announce that the meeting was about to begin.

He felt sorry that Psychke had to go this.

 

“Like I said, you’d be listening to some nonsense discussion, and I feel sorry for that. That’s far I could do as of the moment.”

“Don’t talk like that. And…”

 

She wanted to say that everything was well as long as he was by her side but saying it out loud felt embarrassing.

 

“Nothing, let’s go.”

 

Averting her eyes, he held his arms tightly.

He laughed at the increased warmth.

 

* * *

The Grand Conference was held irregularly whenever there was a major event in the empire.

The nobles who support the emperor sit on the left side of the throne in the center, and the nobles who support the crown prince sit on the right.

At the opposite end of the throne sits neutral aristocrats.

When Psychke entered, the eyes of the seated nobles turned to her.

It was only natural that this political course would change depending on where she sat.

 

“This way.”

 

Verndia led her to a seat, which do not belong to either side.

It was the farthest place from the throne and was used for the purpose of educating young members of the royal family or high-ranking nobles.

It was a good place to stand out because there was no decision-making power, but a voice.

 

“W, why are you here?”

 

Lennox, who was sitting first, was startled.

He didn’t think she would follow to the right side.

 

“Do you have any problem?”

 

Verndia looked at Lennox with a slightly opened eye.

It was an expression that, if someone unfamiliar to him saw it, they would assume that he was asking because he was really curious.

 

“N, no.”

 

However, almost fidgeting, Lennox hurriedly averted his gaze from him, as if he had seen a monster.

Then, as soon as Verndia led her a seat, he moved to the seat farthest from Psychke.

Either that or not, Psychke just stared blankly at Verndia’s back as he went to the right.

He might have been an ordinary nobleman, but Verndia was like the head of the Crown Prince faction.

It was not good for such a person to be in the audience,

 

‘Even in a situation like this, if she stays with Duke Lestir, there has already decided on a faction.’

 

It wasn’t long before the empty seats were filled.

The Emperor, who sat down for the last time, declared the opening of the Great Conference.

 

“The reason I called you here today was.”

 

The warm, gray gaze reached Psyche and the rest of the nobles looked at her, too.

 

“To decide how to deal with the criminal Glorielle.”

 

Although holding a great meeting to decide the treatment of one person was not enough to be called a criminal in itself.

As if trying to overpower the opponent, the emperor called her that.

 

“Duke of Lestir.”

“Yes.”

 

Verndia, who had been called, looked at the emperor.

His purple eyes were frozen cold.

 

“Glorielle’s sins would be in accordance of this conference.”

 

Two pairs of cold eyes bit each other.

 

“No matter what the outcome was, the crime that brought the sinner to the auspicious place will be questioned.”

“I know.”

“Fine.”

 

The emperor, whose words were strangely flowing, shifted his gaze. He licked his red lips as he swept across his seat.

 

“Let me speak.”

“I will go first.”

 

Verndia opened the meeting, effortlessly closing his legs.

 

“I’m going to clear Glorielle’s name and return Silkisia’s castle to her-”

“A pardon for an imperial murderer, what kind of nonsense is that?”

 

An aristocrat on the left hastily intervened him but as soon as meeting Verndia’s eyes, he shut his mouth and lowered his tail. After that, he continued to speak,

 

“- And demands that Silkisia’a name to be returned.”

“That sounds absurd.”

 

People who normally wouldn’t risk being bitten by a mad dog jump in with both feet when their position was at stake. Verndia looked at the Marquis of Esland across from him with his unfamiliar eyes.

 

“Has the Duke really forgotten the events of twenty years ago, which nearly caused the death of her Majesty; and this disgrace would continue if not be punished -”

“Do you remember what the Marquis did when he was three years old?”

“….”

“Do you think it was normal to be punished over something you can’t even remember doing?”

“The Duke’s words seem to be overly emotional.”

 

Baron Hillace opened his mouth, sitting next to Logan,

 

“Whoever bears the family name has an obligation to take responsibility for the family. Glorielle did not fulfill her duty-”

“What duty does a three-year-old have?!”

 

The person sitting in the seat on the right, supporting the crown prince, screamed.

He was an aristocrat who was known for his hot-tempered nature and the bloodstains on his neck.

 

“That’s fortunate if you say obligation properly. I am sure no one hasn’t raised their child properly—”

“Isn’t the Count without an heir?”

“I am not infertile like everyone think!”

“A noble is a noble whether of her age.”

 

The subject that was about to turn into a personal attack was cut off by someone on the left.

Starting with that, words went on and away.

 

“A noble is a noble only after a few years later. Saying this is a bit—”

“When did I say that three-year-olds are not nobles?”

“If you are a noble, you must follow the duties of a noble!”

“Duty. Will the Count slap a three-year-old as punishment?”

“Is it like this?”

“As she gets older, she will think differently. She was at an age where she doesn’t know what she was doing—”

“You keep talking about her age, so will the Marquis forgive a three-year-old if she sets a house on fire, saying it’s okay because she was young?”

“That and this are different! Wasn’t it Glorielle who committed the actual incident?”

“Why do you not know that the parents’ sins are the children’s?”

“Glorielle was merely three at the time. Because her parents committed a crime at an age when he didn’t know anything-”

“That is the law of the Empire.”

“According to the law, Glorielle should have died long ago.”

“So, she should be grateful that he is not dead. Where did you dare get that pardon from…”

 

The aristocrats were anxious, glimpsing at him, scared that he’d be out of control since he was the one to bring out the amnesty.

He crossed his arms, and tapped his feet aggressively.

With his short temper, he wanted to burn all those who insulted the Princess, but now was not the time for her to reveal her true nature.

 

‘In the future, I need to pick out those who’ll make trouble.’

 

He engraved in his head those who insisted on extremes, saying, ‘Amnesty is absolutely not allowed, Glorielle must die immediately.’

 

This was why he didn’t get straight to the point, but instead made an appeal to emotion.

To call out those who were rampaging without reading the mainstream. Then, as the fight reached its climax, he let out a short gasp.

 

“Hmm.”

 

The nobles who had been talking loudly shut their mouths in an instant. Rather, Verndia lazily leaned back on the backrest. And briefly dismissed the conclusions reached so far.

 

“Glorielle must die for the sins of her parents when he was only three years old. Since that was the law and order of the empire.”

“… … .”

“Law and order.”

 

He laughed.

 

“Upright words. If you are a citizen of the Empire, these are of course things you must protect. If you don’t obey, you will be punished. Yes, it was a natural proposition.”

 

He raised one corner of his mouth.

 

“Then, was obeying the law a natural proposition?”

“…?”

“…!”

 

Some understood, yet some didn’t.

And one of the latter muttered.

 

“No… I guess.”

“Right.”

 

Verndia concluded his words meaningfully, right after silence fell in the meeting room.

Those who understood waited for someone to ask, while those who did not understand were intent on figuring out their intentions.

In the meantime, a noble, who was seated at the prince’s side, finally opened her mouth.

He was a hot-tempered count who personally attacked Hillace for being infertile.

 

“Are you saying that Glorielle is not guilty at all, rather than pretending not to be guilty?”

“That’s right.”

“…!”