How the Villainous Consort Avoids His Death Ending

However, Ruellin had undeniably been sent to Hezekia by Viscount Elsworth as a spy for Everett, the Second Prince. Tristan was at times unsure what he should believe and often found himself confused.

He will learn the truth little by little.

He gently bit his lower lip as he stared at the faint, hazy lights of the harbor in the distance. A considerable amount of time had passed since the moment Ruellin had begun to seem like a completely different person. Time would solve many things in the future as well.

Whether he would be able to accept Ruellin as the Grand Consort of Hezekia, and whether the day would come when Ruellin acknowledged Tristan as his rightful husband.

One day, the answers to every question would surely come.

❖ ❖ ❖

The fleet finally arrived at the Imperial Capital, Belforte.

A massive port spread out before us. Upon the waves glittering in the golden sunlight, countless merchant ships and naval fleets bustled to and fro. I leaned diagonally against the ship’s railing and inhaled deeply. The sharp, salty sea breeze surged in at once and filled my lungs.

This was the heart of the Rubyere Empire.

It was the place where the original owner of this body, Ruellin, had been born and raised. But for me, the one who had possessed him, it was a landscape I was seeing for the first time. Unlike cold and desolate Hezekia, the Imperial Capital of Belforte overflowed with liveliness and splendor. It felt as if the entire city was brimming with vitality.

“Wow…”

A small exclamation rose beside me as a voice marveled at the sight beyond the harbor. When I turned my head, Constantine was staring wide eyed, looking around in amazement. His small face was filled with wonder and awe.

“It is so cool… Are that many huge ships all docking… all at once?”

He must have meant mooring. I chuckled and ruffled Constantine’s hair as he wore a proud expression, pleased with his choice of vocabulary. Constantine then declared triumphantly:

“Hezekia’s port can only fit one fleet!”

“Several fleets can enter at once. There just has never been a reason for them to do so.”

Tristan offered a dignified excuse. In truth, the ducal fleet was the only one that would ever bother visiting remote and barren Hezekia. Still, it was not a particularly convincing explanation.

It was no wonder Constantine was hopping with excitement while letting out continuous exclamations. A magnificent sight was unfolding before our eyes.

The sea was lined with countless vessels and all manner of warships anchored in rows. Sailors were busily unloading supplies from the merchant ships, and wagons coming to transport those goods were lined up all around the docks.

Far beyond the horizon, the tall walls and spires of the Imperial Capital could be seen. A round silver dome shimmered resplendently beneath the brilliant sunlight. The entire city looked like a vast work of art.

“Belforte Port is a place where the Rubyere Empire poured all its wealth, Your Highness.”

I offered an explanation to Constantine in an attempt to speak in Tristan’s defense. Tristan briefly glanced my way with an unreadable expression.

“Uncle, Uncle! What is that ship? It looks so unusual!”

Overcome with excitement, Constantine stomped his feet and raised his voice. His short fingers pointed toward several unusually shaped vessels gliding in together. They had long, sleek hulls and an impressive sight unfolded as the many oars protruding from their elongated bodies moved in perfect unison. Their sharply raised prows appeared almost threatening. Black sails embroidered in intricate red and gold with the Rubyere Imperial crest flapped forcefully in the wind.

Their presence was truly formidable. If not for the imperial emblem, one might have mistaken them for pirate ships. Narrowing my eyes, I watched the suspicious looking fleet closely.

Tristan exhaled softly and answered.

“That is the privateer fleet of Countess Dearsby.”

“Wow, they are so cool!”

Constantine stomped his feet again as he continued to marvel.

However, I flinched and glanced at Tristan. The Grand Duke gazed at the fleet with his usual expressionless face, showing no particular reaction.

Countess Dearsby was essentially the adoptive mother of Everett, the Second Prince. Before Everett was formally acknowledged as a prince, he had been raised as her son under her household.

The Countess of Dearsby was the Emperor’s mistress and Everett’s birth mother.