The Opposite of Indifference - Chapter 3

Hunger gnawed at her, so Millicent did not refuse. She hastily cut a piece of cheese with a small knife and placed it on a slice of bread.

“My ladies-in-waiting are five lively young women.”

Queen Jadalin began.

“They were selected from the most prominent families representing the Holy Kingdom of Kintland.”

She took a small sip of wine.

“They act as meek as sheep grazing in the pasture, yet behind the scenes, they are nothing but five scheming opportunists, desperate to secure their own gains.”

“Is that why you wish to kill them?” Millicent asked.

“No.”

Jadalin slowly rose to her feet.

“Are you aware that His Majesty recently returned?”

“Yes, I heard he achieved a great victory in the war.”

The queen, dragging her silk slippers, stepped toward a portrait.

“The moment he returned to the palace, he made a declaration to me.”

Jadalin stared at the handsome man in the painting.

Jet-black hair like coal. Gray eyes with a faint blue hue. A fine hat adorned with feathers. A crimson leather doublet. A gold-crafted locket necklace…

It was likely the king, who supposedly spent more than half of the year on the battlefield.

Something about his features seemed familiar, but Millicent was too focused on eating her bread to think about it.

“He announced that he would soon select a Royal Mistress.”

Had there been a letter opener in her hand, the queen might have already slashed the painting to pieces.

“And of all people, he said he would choose from among my ladies-in-waiting.”

Jadalin’s brow furrowed. “You mean the official royal consort?”

Millicent mustered her limited knowledge.

The Royal Mistress, the king’s foremost favored consort, was a title that signified “the most distinguished lady in the kingdom.”

Like the queen, she would receive an independent residence within the court and be granted a vast pension. She could even wield enough influence to intervene in state affairs.

More importantly, if the queen failed to bear an heir, the Royal Mistress’s illegitimate child could inherit the throne.

“That doesn’t seem like such a bad thing, does it?” Millicent asked indifferently. “The Royal Mistress would also serve as the perfect scapegoat for the people’s grievances instead of the king and queen.”

History was proof enough. Whenever famine struck, ruining wheat harvests, or plagues spread through villages, it was always the damn concubine’s fault for incurring divine wrath.

Jadalin scoffed. “Women of this kingdom are utterly foolish. In my homeland, men don’t even dare develop such insolent habits as coveting multiple women.”

Her homeland must have been the Bodegas Empire.

Jadalin was originally the eldest daughter of Emperor Valentina of Bodegas. By the empire’s traditions, which worshipped motherhood and granted succession rights solely to princesses, she had been designated as the next heir to the throne.

But at the age of fourteen, Jadalin had been cast aside by her mother. The succession process had been halted entirely. Instead, she had been sent to this kingdom to be wed…

Clearly, there was more to the story.

“If any such scoundrel existed in my homeland, he would be taught his place with a thorned whip,” Jadalin added harshly.

Millicent could only imagine that the customs beyond the border were quite different.

“And my dear king knows this well,” Jadalin muttered. “He has no interest in women, but he made such an outrageous declaration solely to humiliate me.”

“Are relations between you and His Majesty that poor?”

Millicent asked blankly. Their marriage had taken place long ago, yet there had never been any announcements of a prince or princess being born.

“If indifference could be embodied as a person, it would be your king.”

Jadalin spoke with cold detachment, as if he were not her king at all.

“Of course, I am not much different.”

The queen laughed. It was an empty, cynical sound.

Reading the atmosphere, Millicent spoke up, “I can kill your ladies-in-waiting if you wish. But if all five of them die, won’t Your Majesty be the first suspect?”

She was testing the queen, just in case she had second thoughts about the request and decided to withdraw it.

“That is precisely what I want.”

To Millicent’s surprise, Jadalin responded boldly.

“That way, they will all fear me. They will learn, down to their very bones, what happens to those who challenge my authority.”

The queen bit her lip.

“And my kind king must also realize that I am not some docile woman who will passively accept his insults.”

“And what if suspicion turns into truth?” Millicent asked. “If I’m caught, Your Majesty will also be put on trial before the Holy Church for orchestrating murder.”

“Then make sure you are never caught. Even if they drive needles under your fingernails during torture, you must keep your mouth shut.”

Jadalin accepted it without hesitation.

“But don’t worry too much.”

The queen even smiled sweetly.

“If you ever get arrested for murder and are locked up in Cathedral Tower, I will personally kill you before you utter a single word.”

Millicent sensed the chilling sincerity behind that smile.

“That’s right, now that I think about it… I haven’t given you an advance payment.”

Taking it a step further, Jadalin ensured she had no way to back out by binding her tightly with gold coins.

“Here, this is your share.”

And it was a considerable sum. The pouch she tossed was heavy. When Millicent opened it, gold coins and jewels glittered brilliantly.

“This much as an advance?”

“Yes. Women of the Empire are known for their generosity. If you complete the task cleanly, I’ll pay you twice as much.”

Jadalin studied Millicent’s face with intrigue.

“You’re surprisingly expressionless for someone who’s just been given such an amount.”

Millicent shrugged. “I’m not easily shaken.”

“Cardinal Mullery told me about you.”

After assessing her, Jadalin finally spoke.

“And you are just as he described. Indeed, you blend in so easily, you’re almost forgettable.”

“That’s fortunate.”

“But at the same time, you’re distinctly pretty.”

The queen’s gaze roved over her again.

A white bonnet that completely concealed her perpetually unruly hair, even when soaked in lavender oil. Large, bright blue eyes. Full lips. A heart-shaped face. A slender, elongated neck…

“Especially your eyes.”

Jadalin tilted her head slightly as she continued, “They have depth, like blue waves lapping against the shore.”

Millicent had never given her eyes much thought, so she remained silent.

“…Strangely enough, you seem somewhat familiar.”

The queen’s light brown eyes narrowed as if trying to see through her.

“I hear you’re skilled with poison?”

At last, Jadalin asked a question Millicent could properly answer.

“Yes. It’s the cleanest method.”

“Clean?”

“I know herbs well. I also know how to leave no trace.”

“What if you can’t use poison? Can you handle that?”

“I dislike messes, but a knife or a rope will do just fine.”

Her direct answer brought a faint smile to Jadalin’s lips.

“How many have you killed?”

“I never counted.”

Millicent shrugged.

She wondered if guilt or remorse would creep in. But as always, no such emotions surfaced, no matter how long she waited.

“From what Cardinal Mullery told me, the number isn’t small.”

“Then he’s probably right.”

Her flat response only seemed to pique Jadalin’s interest even further.

“You said your name was Millicent…”

Jadalin downed a glass of wine.

“What about your family?”

“They were witches. Burned at the stake long ago.”

She could have made something up, but she chose to be honest. She wanted to see how the queen would react. Would she recoil in fear like the others?

“And you?”

Surprisingly, Jadalin remained composed.

“Unlike your family, were you a witch lucky enough to survive?”

“Yes.”

Millicent, hiding her own mild admiration, answered indifferently.

“I burned to death alongside them, but strangely enough, I came back to life.”

An unexpected resurrection, one might say. Millicent thought about it with cold cynicism.

The sensation of being tied to the stake beside her mother. The jeering crowd surrounding them. The flames that started as embers before consuming her entirely. The agony of burning alive…

Everything was vivid. Yet, somehow, she had opened her eyes again and found herself living a new life.

“I truly do seem like a witch resurrected by the Devil, don’t I?”

Well, she figured she might as well accept it. She only shrugged.

“You say the most absurd things with such sincerity.”

Jadalin laughed. A brighter laugh than before. It exposed her slightly large front teeth, giving her a uniquely charming look.

Millicent hadn’t expected her to believe her story, but at least she hadn’t earned her wrath either. The queen seemed to regard her confession as nothing more than a trivial joke.

It was a satisfactory outcome.

“Your surname?”

“I don’t have one.”

“I suppose even ‘Millicent’ is a fake name.”

Jadalin raised an eyebrow.

“Very well, Millicent.”

At last, the queen signaled that their idle chatter was over.

“Fulfill our contract faithfully,” Jadalin said. “Everything must happen within the court. Remember why I had you masquerade as a maid in the first place.”

Millicent, though reluctant, set aside her knife and fork. She cast a wistful glance at the half-eaten biscuit she had yet to finish.

“…And be wary of the king.”

Suddenly, Jadalin lowered her voice.

“He’s a man with something twisted inside.”

“Twisted?”

“I’m not entirely sure myself…”

Jadalin’s expression darkened with distaste.

“But he’s not the kind of man one can easily understand.”

That vague explanation left Millicent puzzled.

“If you had carried out the job while the king was away, it would have been easier for you. During His Majesty’s absence, Cardinal Mullery and I manage state affairs.”

“That’s true.”

“…He said he would be away for a long time, so why did he suddenly return?”

Jadalin murmured to herself. She wasn’t asking Millicent.

The queen’s gaze returned to the portrait from before.

“And why did he bring up the Royal Mistress selection as if it was something he had planned all along?”

It was certainly a question Millicent couldn’t answer. So instead, she simply bid farewell and left the queen’s chambers.