The Reason Why the Forsaken Fake Returned Chapter 110

Hearing footsteps approaching, Eric, who had been tensely glaring at the door, finally placed the gun he had been gripping tightly onto the table. “I’ve been anxiously waiting.”

 

“I told you there was no need.”

 

The man removed his hood and robe, hanging them on the hook by the door.

 

“Your Highness, there was no need for you to personally intervene.”

 

“I agree with that sentiment.” Caleb quietly sat down in an empty chair.

 

Eric wasn’t the only one seated around the round table. Gordon, the publisher of ‘The Informant’ and a crucial ally, as well as Carl, a key figure in rebel forces, were also present.

 

“Your Highness is an indispensable asset to our side. We hope you will refrain from making public speeches in the future.” Gordon advised politely but firmly. “If anything were to happen to you, it would be like watching a painstakingly built tower collapse. I hope you understand.”

 

“…I understand.” Reluctantly, Caleb nodded in response to their continued earnest pleas. Meanwhile, Eric suddenly stood up, checked outside the door and window, and then returned to his seat.

 

“By the way, I heard your voice loudly resonating even from here. The control of strength and emotion was perfect. Neither too much nor too little.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes. It was astonishing. It must have been your first time playing the role of an agitator.”

 

“It was.” Caleb pulled a cigar from his pocket, lit the end with a match, and placed it in his mouth. “The public’s anger is about to hit Queen Ingrid. We’ve released the letters between Duke Ferus and Queen Ingrid regarding the private army. Count Benjamin has secretly approached His Majesty to obtain evidence implicating Queen Ingrid in the deaths of my mother and brother.”

 

Eric nodded in agreement.

 

“That’s not all. We’ve also retrieved a body from the lake and secured testimonies and evidence from those involved. Now, we just need to disseminate the rest at once.”

 

Carl, who had been listening quietly, interjected. “Your Highness, the soldiers are ready. With a single signal, they will gather and seize the royal castle, outpacing Queen Ingrid’s private forces and changing the regime.”

 

“Miss Griche, who was merely supposed to be a distraction, has truly played the role of a catalyst as you predicted, Your Highness. Honestly, I’m quite surprised by her unexpected success.”

 

Griche. Hearing her name, Caleb stood up and slightly opened the window, exhaling smoke. The air was filled with harsh curses as the standoff between the security forces and the people continued. Such actions only deepened resentment and increased animosity.

 

“What about Sasha?”

 

“Lady Octavia and Sasha are currently being safely protected. I hear Prince Albert is frantically searching for them.”

 

“Ensure that not even a mouse can slip through our watch.”

 

Eric quietly observed his lord’s back. Caleb’s words were ambiguous. It was unclear whether he meant to prevent someone from finding and kidnapping Shailoh or stop Shailoh from escaping. His purpose was vague.

 

“Understood.”

 

* * *

The kingdom was turned upside down in just three months. From the moment gatherings of more than three people were banned, the simmering embers of resentment quickly flared up, engulfing the capital and surrounding the royal castle.

 

“Let go of me! How dare you lay hands on me! Release me at once!”

 

Queen Ingrid, who had sought foreign aid, was captured along with her son, Prince Albert, and thrown into the underground prison.

 

“Where is Duke Ferus? Where is he, I say!”

 

“Enough already!” Albert, who was shackled and in a daze, couldn’t take it anymore and shouted. “Duke Ferus isn’t coming! Mother said you’d kill Octavia Ferus secretly the moment we caught her! It’s because of Mother’s words that everything went wrong! The duke has already fled abroad with his fortune, taking our private soldiers for his own safety!”

 

“That can’t be! It can’t be!” Queen Ingrid, her eyes bloodshot, crawled on her knees and grabbed Albert by the collar. “If you want to blame someone, blame yourself! Why did you build that secret villa and let those nasty rumors spread? They say it all started because of that woman, didn’t it?”

 

“That’s…!” Albert, stung by the accusation, bit his lip, at a loss for words. Then, a sudden thought struck him, and he retorted fiercely. “Isn’t it largely your fault for hiding the fact that Father passed away? How could you keep such an important matter a secret? Because of that, even the castle staff have turned their backs on us!”

 

“T-That’s!” Ingrid’s face turned pale as she struggled for words.

 

The timing was unfortunate. Just as people began to side with Caleb and the rebels, taking up arms themselves, the king passed away. And it happened before he could even declare to Albert that he would inherit the throne!

 

“There was nothing I could do… truly nothing.”

 

The hand that had been gripping her son’s collar fell limply. At that moment, footsteps echoed from afar, and someone spoke to them from outside the bars.

 

“You speak as if someone held a knife to your throat and forced you.”

 

“You!”

 

“You bastard!”

 

As if they had exchanged signals beforehand, mother and son glared almost simultaneously at the man standing outside the iron bars.

 

“To imprison the queen of this kingdom and reduce your younger brother to this state! Aren’t you ashamed?” Abandoning formalities, Ingrid spat out curses, ready to charge at any moment. “My family will soon rise up and overturn this situation! You won’t even be able to close your eyes when you die!”

 

“Are you referring to these people when you mention your family?”

 

Caleb signaled silently to the soldier who had followed him. The soldier, bowing respectfully, presented a large sack.

 

“Place it on the ground.”

 

As soon as the sack was placed on the ground, something rolled out and hit the bars. Ingrid, initially doubting her eyes, reached out with a wretched cry.

 

“No! Father! Brother!”

 

What Caleb had brought was none other than the heads of her own family.

 

“You devil! You monster! I should have killed you when you were a child, just like your mother and older brother!”

 

As she cursed, sobbing as if her tears were made of blood, Albert, who had been staring blankly at the decapitated heads of his maternal family, looked at Ingrid as if he had been slapped.

 

“Did you really… kill my older brother too?”

 

“You thought it was an accident?” Ingrid turned her head sharply, a mocking smile on her lips. “It was all for you!”

 

“How could you…?” Albert’s face flushed red, then turned deathly pale. At his mother’s unapologetic answer, he collapsed to the floor. His eyes had lost all focus, as though every trace of fighting spirit had left him.

 

Caleb, casting a glance at the mother and son, stepped closer to them. “Let’s make a deal.”

 

“A deal…?”

 

“You will admit to all your crimes and willingly go to the execution grounds.”

 

“Pah!” Ingrid spat in his face before he could finish speaking, glaring at him. “Admit it? Are you mad?”

 

“You witch!”

 

“Hold on.”

 

Caleb stopped the soldier who was about to draw his sword from its scabbard in anger, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his face. The resolute expression that refused to accept any proposal twisted in the next moment.

 

“If you admit to all charges and face execution, I will spare Albert.”

 

“What…?” Ingrid looked at Caleb with wavering eyes. “Is that true?”

 

“Yes. I don’t make empty promises. I will exile him to a foreign kingdom, provided he never returns.”

 

“But… why?” Ingrid clutched the bars with both hands, questioning in a trembling voice. “There’s no need for that. You already have all the evidence, and everyone is on your side.”

 

“There are still remnants of your followers. Even though Duke Ferus betrayed you, he might one day use you as a pretext to rebel.”

 

If Ingrid admitted to all her crimes before that, even that pretext would vanish early on.

 

“…Fine. But how can I trust you?”

 

“We’ll swear before a clergyman and write a formal agreement.”

 

Religion was a sanctuary that even the king of this kingdom could not touch. That was why The Informant had designated the printing house as a place of worship.

 

“A priest will serve as a witness. A witness who cannot be swayed by any faction.”

 

“…Alright.” Ingrid glanced at her son, who was staring blankly into space, and slowly released the iron bars.

 

“There will be an interrogation tomorrow. Before that, a priest will come to this prison.” Caleb, having finished his business, gave his stepmother a slight bow, with minimal courtesy. As he was about to leave, a voice suddenly stopped him in his tracks.