When That Door Opens - Chapter 47
“I will use every means possible to exact revenge on Your Grace. I am the most noble Astel in Schultz. You will never be able to stop me.”
“A fake dares to spout such nonsense!”
“Yes, I am a fake. But you can never reveal that truth.”
Roman’s eyes widened. I smirked.
“If that’s not the case, why don’t you open the window right now and shout it out? That I’m a fake. That you made me a fake. So go ahead and kill me!”
I abruptly stood up.
“There’s no need to drag this out. Do it right now! If you can’t, shall I?”
Roman barely managed to stop me just before I opened the window. Roughly turning me around, he spoke.
“Crazy b*tch! Do you want to die? Do you need to be locked in a windowless cell to come to your senses? Do you want to spend your life eating bugs?”
“Then do as you please.”
“What, what did you say?”
“If I bother you so much, lock me up right now. Why haven’t you done anything? Why do you keep me alive?”
“Do you think I can’t do it?”
“Haha. Hahaha!”
Laughter burst out. Roman’s face grew even more menacing. Despite his fierce expression, his eyes betrayed a hint of unease.
I wiped the tears from my eyes as I laughed.
“Haha. Why did I only realize this now? You’ll never give up on me. Why did it take me so long to see that?”
Roman is the supreme power in Schultz. His power doesn’t come from the council but from Astel.
The closest to Astel, the only one who can always have a private audience with the royal family.
Roman has ruled Schultz with that power.
“You’ll never be able to kill me. How do you plan to create a new puppet now? No, you’ll lose your power before you can even make a new one. You’ll be branded as a royal who couldn’t protect Astel!”
“Shut your mouth!”
Roman’s eyes turned red with rage, his grip on my neck tightened, as if he would kill me at any moment.
Despite the growing sensation of suffocation, I couldn’t stop laughing.
Roman can never kill me. How did I only realize this now? Realizing now that Roman’s threats are useless!
“Damn it!”
As expected, Roman finally released his grip on my neck. I started laughing, clutching my stomach. I must have looked like a mad person, laughing with tears streaming down my face.
If I had known the truth sooner, I could have protected him. But even though I’ve realized the truth, it’s too late.
I will be hated by the only man I ever loved until the day I die.
Now, I have only one wish left.
That one day when we meet again, he will kill me to exact his revenge.
* * *
After that incident, I acted as if I were the real Astel. I did what the real Astel would have done, what my dead sister would have done if she were alive.
I used to think I was a bird with its wings tied. I believed that even a slight movement would break my wings. But now, with nothing left to lose and nothing to worry about being broken, there was nothing to hold me back.
I immediately cast off almost everything Roman had forced upon me. I, who had always stayed only in the temple, began to periodically inspect the people’s lives outside the temple.
Even in the midst of this, I left Roman’s planted people around me. By leaving his people untouched, I made him believe that he still had control over me.
Roman’s subordinates reported my whereabouts to him daily. I used his subordinates against him, claiming to be praying and closing off the temple. This left Roman’s men anxious as they couldn’t leave, while I enjoyed a few peaceful days until Roman, fuming with rage, came to confront me.
He would throw fits, but he couldn’t stop me. Whatever I did, he would only hear about it later and grind his teeth in frustration. Such actions would have been unimaginable for my former self. Gradually, I became praised as Astel.
Ironically, the more I was praised, the emptier I felt. Outwardly, I appeared fine, but inside, I was rotting away. Why continue this wretched life? Often, I wanted to end my life, just as I had once hurled harsh words at him.
Yet, I couldn’t do anything in the end.
I couldn’t let go of the slightest hope.
The hope that one day he might return. The hope that I could ask for his forgiveness. The hope that he might punish me himself. The hope that I might die by his hand.
This was the only reason I continued to live.
