Chapter 140: Rodel Faces Punishment
Rodel Aiwood, the Third Prince. The figurehead of the Queen Dowager Faction. The nominal Supreme Commander of the Rebel Army. The traitor who bared his fangs at the Royal Family lay bloodied and battered on the floor.
“…”
“…”
“…”
The three men fell silent, their expressions a complex mix of emotions as they looked down at the man dragged before them by the knights. As a father, as a brother, and as a man who was supposed to be a father-in-law… each of them regarded Rodel with their own thoughts.
“What a sight this is, my son.”
The first to speak was the King. He let out a heavy, deep sigh upon seeing his son in such a pitiful state. Rodel had been used by the faction that opposed him, coddled and manipulated by the Queen Dowager, his own mother. Yet… despite everything, he was still his blood. There was no way he could feel nothing for him. If Rodel were to die, all problems would be resolved… still, he had hoped for some semblance of rehabilitation, enough to refrain from choosing assassination or treachery as a means to an end. He wished for Rodel to gain experience and become a better man, if only a little. After all, the King, David Aiwood, was just a father at heart.
“…Father.”
Rodel, wrapped in bandages from head to toe, looked up at the King and whispered those words. He did not plead for his life. He did not offer excuses. He did not voice any grievances. The face that once bore the arrogance of pride now showed an astonishing lack of emotion.
“…?”
Richard furrowed his brow in confusion. Despite the bandages covering even his face, Rodel wore an oddly clear expression. How long had it been since he had seen his younger brother’s face like this? Shoving aside such questions, Richard spoke up.
“…Rodel, this incident cannot be overlooked simply because you are a prince… Do you have any explanation?”
“…Brother.”
Rodel slightly turned his head, directing his gaze toward Richard. Once, Rodel had claimed that he alone was worthy of being the next king. To him, Richard had been nothing more than a thorn in his side.
“…Judge me as you see fit. Whether it be the Poisoned Chalice or execution… I accept whatever you decide.”
The humble words slipped from Rodel’s lips. He had declared his willingness to accept any punishment, even to ascend the gallows.
“Rodel…!”
Richard’s expression twisted in anguish as he clenched his fists. He had expected Rodel to make a pathetic excuse for himself. He thought he would curse them for thwarting his ambitions. Yet… why did he wear such a liberated expression? Why, why…?
“Why can’t you just die a worthless fool…!”
With a torrent of anger, sorrow, regret, and lingering attachment, Richard spat out his words of scorn. Forgetting that he was in the presence of the King, he unleashed his emotions upon his foolish brother.
“If you had remained a fool, if you had stayed worthless, I could have punished you without mercy… I wouldn’t have felt a shred of remorse in killing you…! Yet, why do you wear such a serene expression!? Why do you accept your own death!? ”
“…”
“If you had died miserably and disgracefully as a traitor… I wouldn’t feel this way…!”
“…Enough, Richard. Hold your tongue.”
The King intervened, unable to bear the sight of his son’s anguished cries any longer.
“Rodel… what you have done is unforgivable as a member of the Royal Family. Your involvement with the Rebel Army will be kept under wraps, so you will not be executed. However… you must die to set an example.”
“…”
“…Your mother is the Princess of the Neighboring Country. As a courtesy to our allied nation, we will hold a formal discussion, but the outcome will not change. Eventually, a Poisoned Chalice will be prepared for you, so savor your final moments.”
The King delivered Rodel’s death sentence. Killing Rodel would create numerous problems, yet now that matters had reached this point, there was no avoiding it. If he did not die, there would be no way to justify the actions to the subjects and the soldiers who had fallen.
“…”
Rodel gazed up at his father and brother with eyes devoid of emotion, but eventually, he trembled his lips and murmured softly.
“…I humbly accept this command. I apologize for the trouble I have caused.”
The foolish prince, who had been used as the banner of rebellion, accepted his fate of death at the tender age of sixteen without resistance.