Chapter 170: The Victor’s Return 3

A couple lay entwined, lost in slumber. As if expressing their resolution never to part, even in this state of unconsciousness, their hands remained tightly clasped.

Though both had married at the peak of youth, in this moment their posture exuded a childlike desperation – a pure affection akin to a child refusing to relinquish a cherished possession.

Now an inseparable family unit, observing the sleeping Santana and Caseross brought a warm smile to Polena’s face – their ‘maid’ and de facto guardian.

‘In any case, this much has been definitively settled. Our beloved nephew has wed, and the Dragonian Empire has indirectly become embroiled in these events.’

Though her direct involvement had been minimal, separate from her immense power, Polena had merely provided a gentle nudge.

Yet the outcome had unfolded precisely according to her wishes – the two souls fated to meet by happenstance, their destinies intertwining into this singular fruition entangling the Dragonian Empire.

Witnessing this unfolding spiral of fate, Polena had seamlessly sculpted her desired tableau.

‘That fool’s machinations must be contained within the Holy Imperium at all costs. Should they spill beyond its borders… truly calamitous repercussions would become inevitable.’

Keenly aware of the impending cataclysm and its consequences, Polena steeled her resolve to forestall it by her own hand.

Even if reducing her to mere ash.

‘Not that I intend to meekly accept such a fate. Truth be told, I remain uncertain whether my present self can even perish…’

Polena well knew her body was far from ordinary human.

The power coursing through her very being, honed through her diligent cultivation – while she understood it intimately, she also recognized its terrifying potency.

‘Speaking of power… I wonder what precipitated that young lady’s present circumstances? Could she have genuinely fallen prey to Soule’s temptations of might?’

As her thoughts turned to the concept of power, the 7th-rank witch occupying the rear carriage came to mind.

Polena had clearly discerned her true identity when she had removed her mask, clumsily attempting to conceal herself with rudimentary illusion magic.

‘Queen Andreas, if I’m not mistaken? Our lord’s elder sister. I was aware of her alleged abduction by Blad’s cohorts… But I never imagined we would cross paths under such circumstances.’

By all appearances, Queen had undergone relentless training under Soule, accruing formidable abilities anticipated to soon breach the 8th-rank archmage threshold – potentially surpassing even Count Tuahn, Bohemia’s paramount mage.

‘The question remains – what precipitated this path? While her demeanor suggests no outward coercion, her seemingly voluntary actions imply a strong possibility that she was simply enraptured by Soule’s offered power.’

Truthfully, given Queen’s diminished standing within Bohemia after being eclipsed by Santana, Soule’s overtures must have proved immensely alluring.

Undoubtedly psychologically beleaguered, the prospect of attaining far greater might as a witch would have proven a potent enticement.

‘She was always more suited to our witches than conventional mages, after all… Well, setting aside the inevitable diplomatic fallout, Soule seems to have acquired a rather capable apprentice.’

With these thoughts, Polena resolved to discreetly bury this matter while observing its progression.

Her involvement would only further complicate matters without providing a clear solution. Ultimately, she lacked the devotion to resolve Soule’s machinations personally.

‘And well… Should any issues arise, our Lord Santana will surely handle them adeptly. He is among the scant few men I acknowledge…’

Deep within Bohemia’s royal palace, Desth sat alone in her chamber, beset by conflicting emotions.

‘Haah… How did things spiral to this state, I wonder…?’

Desth had fervently wished for her brother Santana to wed Estelle.

Yet her ardent desire had been abruptly shattered by an unforeseen impediment.

The unexpected betrothal to the Dragonian princess had blindsided them all.

As a consequence, Santana had annulled his engagement to Estelle, instead marrying this utter stranger from a foreign realm – without even a courtship period.

Though Desth had desperately wished to intervene, such monumental events far exceeded her capacity as a mere Count’s daughter to influence.

The bride was a princess of the Dragonian Empire – one of the mightiest realms in existence.

How could she, a minor nobility, possibly obstruct her brother’s union with such an exalted personage?

Thus, Santana had ultimately departed Bohemia to wed, and now returned accompanied by his Dragonian wife – a princess bearing the Emperor’s bloodline and formidable power before which even Desth must bow.

‘Uum… Well… It cannot be helped. I must accept this reality with grace. After all, Brother has married someone of noble standing, as I had wished… Even if Estelle’s plight pains me…’

Estelle, having retreated to the Lepsody province prior to Santana’s departure.

Fortunately, she had not outwardly displayed excessive anguish – yet Desth was no fool to take her composure at face value.

Undoubtedly, Estelle suffered immensely from these developments.

Yet regardless of her feelings or Desth’s own, the deed was done.

Santana was now a married man, and Estelle no longer retained any prospect of becoming his official wife.

At best, she might attain concubine status – contingent solely upon Santana’s inclinations.

‘Perhaps I should discreetly advocate for that possibility? Who knows? Brother may secretly harbor such thoughts himself…’

As Desth resigned herself to Estelle’s loss of her anticipated role yet clung to slender hopes, a servant’s voice interrupted her musings:

“Miss Desth, Lord Santana has returned.”

“Oh? Ah, understood. I shall join him presently.”

Rising, Desth exited her chamber – a swirl of curiosity and trepidation surrounding this fabled “princess” who was now her sister-in-law.