Chapter 18: Reclaiming the Land

During the return journey with Sylvia, Solene successively seized the territories of three Barons and Viscounts. Ian sat quietly inside the carriage, leafing through a book of history. When Solene stepped out once more, standing beneath the sunlight with a faint smile, Ian’s voice rang out coldly from behind her: "Digging your own grave."

Solene turned to look at him, shrugging. "And what can you do about it?" Ian put down his book and rose calmly, making a move to descend, but Solene hurriedly pressed him back.

"What do you think you're doing?"

The surrounding commoners craned their necks in curiosity, trying to see exactly who this mysterious figure conversing with Countess Solene was. Despite their lingering fear, the crowd remained gathered, hopeful for the redistribution of land. Though a land tax had been established, it was now their only means of survival. These people, long-suffering from oppression and poverty, both craved this rare opportunity and feared the woman bestowing it upon them—terrified of losing what they had gained, and even more terrified of being seized and handed over themselves.

Sylvia emerged covered in blood, and Solene handed her a handkerchief with a look of feigned distaste. Ian watched the two of them, his smile tinged with mockery: "Why not let me off the carriage? I could be of help to Commander Sylvia as well."

His tone made Solene feel that he had changed; it was as if he had found some new certainty. It felt as though he could still see right through her.

Solene quickly boarded the carriage and grabbed Ian by the collar, sneering: "You’ve grown quite arrogant. I suppose I’ve been giving you too much 'good face' lately!"

Ian tilted his head back defiantly, returning her gaze with nonchalance. Solene swung her hand in a slap, but Ian merely tilted his head and smiled. Then, he suddenly turned and pinned her by the neck, forcing a kiss upon her. He bit her lip until it bled, plundering her breath. Solene fought back with all her might, but it was futile. Just as she was about to manifest her magic, Ian abruptly let go.

Solene gasped for air, her chest heaving violently. Ian’s fingers lingered on her chest before slowly sliding inward. His eyes were obsessive, his lips stained a vivid red.

Sylvia, watching from behind with a furrowed brow, slammed the carriage door shut. She leaped onto her white horse and barked a low command: "Move out!"

Through a crack in the side window, Sylvia caught a glimpse of the scene inside. Solene pushed back with everything she had, but to no avail, her fingernails sinking deep into Ian’s back. That familiar pain made Ian vividly recall that night. That night, it had been Solene. He was certain that he would never touch another woman besides her. He didn't even care if she had been involved with other men; from now on, she would belong only to him.

Sylvia’s cheeks flushed slightly as she gripped the reins. As the curtains swayed, she thought she saw Solene biting her own hand to stifle any sound, her eyes vacant and hollow. Solene’s fingers trembled; she had intended to use magic, but she feared this madman Ian might recklessly reveal himself to the public. She had to keep him steady.

"Must it be here? Are you that desperate? You mad dog!"

Ian pinned her down, his voice cold: "You were the one who seduced me first. Are you saying you're unwilling? Go ahead, use your magic to push me away."

"This is merely a performance, Your Majesty. Don't take it seriously."

"I am well aware it is a game. After all, you were the one who discarded me with your own hands."

Ian suddenly exerted more force, intentionally repeating the act...

When morning arrived back at the manor, Solene gently pushed the sleeping Ian aside. After dressing herself neatly, she stepped out of his palace chambers. Andre stood silently by the entrance, peacefully watching the pink roses blooming in the courtyard. The pure white roses that once filled the palace had now all been replaced by pink.

"You are finally awake," Andre said softly.

Solene rubbed her aching neck, her voice laced with irritation: "What is it now?" A cool breeze brushed past, and she instinctively pulled her cloak tighter.

Andre turned around, the dark circles under his weary eyes revealing his exhaustion. Solene blinked in surprise. "When did you arrive?"

"In the middle of the night. I couldn't sleep, so I brought some things over. Seeing that you were asleep, I waited here," Andre replied.

At that moment, Ian stood by the window, silently observing the two of them. Solene massaged her temples and said to Andre, "You should take better care of yourself. Nothing is so urgent that it requires this."

Andre untied a small cloth bag from his waist and handed it to her. "These are tomato seeds soaked in magic potions. They are of the highest quality and can double the harvest. The mages at our Tower have also found a way to preserve them for a long time. Please have a look."

Having said his piece, he took a step back, swept his cloak, and vanished instantly. Solene stared at the bag of seeds, lost in thought. By the end of the year, Sylvia should be able to fully reclaim the lost territories. The nobles no longer had the power to turn the tide; it seemed she would soon meet those two old Grand Dukes.

This also meant the time for goodbyes was near.

Solene looked up toward the window, her face pale, but her eyes flashing with a defiant, arrogant light. Ian hid behind the curtain, their conversation reaching his ears clearly through magic.

Solene, no one but me can hate you; but no one but me wishes for you to stay alive...

Ian thought to himself. He had uncovered the truth behind everything. No one was innocent, and all involved had received their due retribution; the innocent had found new lives, but you, Solene...

The Grand Dukes are rallying the people; your actions have sparked panic. What will you do? Have you never considered my feelings? You show mercy to the commoners, yet you alone ignore my existence! How can I save you? You loathe me so much—what if I were to hide you away in secret?

The candle flame reduced the magically delivered letter to ashes.

Several months passed in relative peace. Solene finally had time to catch her breath. At the dining table, Solene and Ian sat opposite each other, yet they occupied the furthest possible ends. Though at the same table, they seemed worlds apart—one side favored sweets, the other side bland.

"Is the purging of the nobility almost over?" Ian suddenly spoke, catching Solene slightly off guard.

"By the end of the year," she answered truthfully. The outcome was already decided.

"They all want you dead," Ian said, putting a piece of honey-glazed beef into his mouth.

Solene bit into half a cherry tomato. After swallowing, she said indifferently, "I know. Don't you want that, too?" Her tone was flat, as if discussing a trivial matter.

"How do you plan to respond?" Ian swallowed the beef, set down his cutlery, and looked at her calmly.

"I will never raise a hand against the people," Solene said with a smile.

Ian remained silent, staring suspiciously into her eyes. Their expressions were either calm or smiling, except for when they were in bed.

After the meal, Solene picked up a watering can and walked slowly to the back garden. She carefully watered each tomato seedling on the trellis, then sat on a white-painted chair, leafing through records of various affairs.

"Not busy lately?" Ian’s voice came from behind.

Solene didn't look up. "It’s almost over. Indeed, I’m not as busy." She pushed the record book toward Ian as he sat down opposite her. "Take a look at this. I’m tired."

This was the seventh time recently that Solene had handed her duties over to Ian. Initially, he would half-jokingly ask if she wasn't afraid he would sabotage them, but Solene’s indifference only made him feel more uneasy. Ian lowered his head to process the work, while Solene leaned her head on the table and fell into a deep sleep. During this time, she often slept alone in her room or outdoors, as if trying to make up for all the sleep she had lost in the past.

Ian received a letter from the two Grand Dukes. Solene had invited them to meet tomorrow; they seemed prepared for the worst.

Finally, the day arrived. Sylvia entered the palace early in the morning. Solene gazed into her eyes and quietly poured a bottle of blue magic potion into some sweet tea.

"Taste the tea I brewed." Solene handed the cup to her.

Sylvia drank it without hesitation, frowning slightly. "Too sweet."

Solene nodded slightly. Suddenly, Sylvia’s vision went dark, her expression turning to one of shock. "Could it be..." Before she could finish, she collapsed onto the sofa. Solene summoned Andre, and under the effect of the potion, Sylvia’s features began to transform.

"Get her settled," Solene commanded.

Andre nodded silently. Halfway out, he looked back into her eyes and asked softly, "And what about you?"

"After you send her away, take the potion and leave as well. If you're worried that losing your memories will make survival too difficult, then choose the pink potion. Everything is about to be settled."

The blue potion erased memories and changed one's appearance, while the pink one only changed the appearance. These were potions Solene had developed specifically for this moment. Everything was within her control.

Andre nodded calmly. After bowing deeply to her, he picked Sylvia up in his arms and departed. A single tear slid from the corner of Sylvia’s eye. Three people, all born for their respective ambitions.

Solene traveled by carriage toward the Grand Duke’s manor. Mid-journey, the sound of urgent hoofbeats came from behind.

"Countess Solene!" It was one of Andre’s subordinates shouting. "Lord Andre has taken his own life by the sword!"

Solene snapped to attention, pulling back the curtain to look at the red-eyed man. She had thought Andre would be the most obedient...

Meanwhile, Sylvia woke up in a bed in an ordinary village, feeling something pressed against her chest. She reached out and pulled out an envelope. On it was written:

Solene, the greatest Countess in history without shame, I will follow you forever.

She whispered the name. Though she had forgotten everything, she felt it was exceptionally important. Suddenly, she coughed up a mouthful of blood. She looked at the blood on her hand in confusion; she should have been afraid, yet she felt a strange sense of peace. It turned out that Sylvia had taken poison before even entering the palace, just to see Solene one last time... and yet, in the end, she had forgotten it all.

The female farmer who entered the room was startled. she had come on a secret mission to care for this woman in exchange for a magic potion shop. Now that the woman was dead, the shop wouldn't be taken back, would it? She frantically shook the lifeless woman on the bed.

Solene’s heart ached with a dull throb. Reaching the Grand Duke's manor, she stepped slowly out of the carriage only to find it surrounded by protesting citizens. Two staggering elderly men emerged tremblingly from the crowd. Their kin were all gone; they were the only two nobles left. They laughed wildly.

Solene raised her hand, and a beam of light pierced through both of them. Their smiles froze instantly. Simultaneously, Solene collapsed abruptly.

When she woke again, she was in her own palace. Everything felt like a dream, but the magical restraint on her wrist reminded her that it was all real—and it was over. Solene felt a sudden sense of relief. Perhaps Ian would personally send her to the guillotine to win over the hearts of the people.

She pulled a box from under the bed. Inside lay the pink magic stone Ian had once given her, and her father’s pocket watch.

Everything was finally coming to an end.