How the Villainous Consort Avoids His Death Ending

“Tristan, listen to my story first……”

“No. Listen to my words, Ruellin. This is an infectious disease.”

“……”

“Particularly if it is a pestilence carried by swarms of black rats, no one can know how horrific of a result it will bring. To say that it is not dangerous because it is in the early stages makes no sense at all.”

Tristan spat out his words fiercely in succession.

“You possess a weak body. Even if it has improved a great deal while you recuperated at the Grand Ducal Castle for three years, it is nowhere near the physical strength of myself and the knights. Rather, your body is more vulnerable to the plague than even the peasants. Yet, if you were to be infected……”

“No, I will not fall ill. I cannot send you away alone. Do you not know that I have always been of help? I must head down personally to examine the situation to find a solution.”

“Ruellin!”

Tristan’s voice raised a layer higher. A look of fear flashed in his deep pupils.

However, this time of all times, I could not back down either. The horrific scene from the original work—where Tristan, who had led numerous naval battles to victory and overcame countless barrages of gunfire and sword blades, was surrounded and bitten by swarms of black rats, only to die as he was infected by the infectious disease in an instant—loomed before me.

Swallowing my breath, I tried to open my mouth with a trembling voice.

“Tristan, please……”

However, flinching momentarily, I ended up closing my mouth. Somewhere in the words I spat out myself and in this situation, a sense of déjà vu was felt.

Tristan, who departs for a distant estate to settle an emergency situation. And the sickly Grand Consort, who stubbornly insists on departing with him to tend to the estate residents instead of remaining in the safe Grand Ducal Castle……

This was the behavior that the “true Grand Consort” had exhibited in the original work.

Did I end up receiving that role because that person did not appear even though the black rat swarms showed up? If so, no matter what method I use, is the approaching future unavoidable?

If it is not even that……

“Your Excellency, it is Wilhelm.”

At that moment, Chief Butler Wilhelm, who had come in a hurry, faced Tristan with a hardened face.

“What is the matter?”

“I know it is an urgent situation, but that is…… A matter has arisen that you must examine for a moment.”

“Wilhelm. In the midst of this right now?”

Tristan narrowed his brow violently. Bowing his waist, Wilhelm hesitated as if embarrassed.

“Your Excellency, that is……”

Was it a delusion that it felt as if he were somehow restless and scrutinizing my reaction? With an anxious mind, I stared blankly at the elderly butler.

As if he had no choice, Wilhelm continued his report in a settled voice.

“……Someone who states they have come from the family of Baronet Aubepin is requesting to see you, Your Excellency.”

If I hadn’t received the task that the “true Grand Consort” would end up doing…… It either meant that this entire situation was hinting that the time had come to yield the position to that person.

I squeezed my two eyes shut. Taking a deep breath, I inhaled deeply. Gathering all my strength, I barely straightened my two shaking legs and stood up straight. At that, blood began to circulate over my cheeks that had been hardening palely.

This was not the time to be hands-off and merely trembling.

I could not lose Tristan vainly to the infectious disease, nor did I want to have him taken away by the “true Grand Consort.” Therefore, I had to do what I could do. If I moved quickly, I would be able to block them one by one in turn.

Valerian Aubepin von Hezekia.

The Grand Consort of Hezekia within the original work, Chronicles of the Sword, had appeared at the Grand Ducal Castle several years earlier than scheduled.

❖ ❖ ❖

They said the man was waiting for Tristan in the northern reception room of the Grand Ducal Castle.

The moment the door opened, I held my breath and raised my gaze. In one corner of the reception room, the flames of the fireplace were burning quietly. Beside a zelkova wood table upon which a teacup from the Sar Empire was placed, someone was sitting still.

Tristan stepped inside first, and I stood half a step behind him. At that, the man flinched in surprise, raised his head, and stood up from his seat.

“……Tristan.”