How the Villainous Consort Avoids His Death Ending

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Our steps out of the temple felt unusually light.

A fine drizzle fell from the dark clouds, wetting our cheeks. Sir Gehardt, Knight of the Grand Duke’s household, could not stop marveling as he walked closely beside me.

“Your Highness, Consort… How did you know this?”

“I happen to have a good instinct.”

“Is your instinct perhaps too good…?”

I looked at the knights’ astonished expressions and smiled with quiet pride. Surprised, weren’t they? That is just how capable I am.

From now on, they better follow instructions without doubt.

“Really, Your Highness, Consort, there is nothing you do not know. We should have left all decisions to you from the beginning. That was the proper way.”

“Is that so?”

I lightly nodded at his passionate words. Since when did he respect me so much?

“How curious. Who was it that never trusted anything I said before?”

“Was there such a person? Just say their name and I will give them a piece of my mind. Surely they didn’t get themselves tricked while acting arrogant, did they?”

“Ha ha…”

He was speaking in a voice that was big yet endearingly cute. Sir Mildred, who had been listening with a frown, could no longer contain himself and finally muttered,

“You’re embarrassing me, so quiet down.”

Tristan, the Grand Duke, remained silent as always. Yet as he walked quietly, he suddenly stopped and turned his head slightly toward me.

“…Thank you, Consort.”

Without waiting for a response, he strode forward again.

I froze in place, staring at him in shock. Why all of a sudden? Is this shyness? Surely not embarrassment.

‘I think it might be…’

He seemed even cuter than Sir Gehardt. Naturally, he was far more handsome than Gehardt anyway.

“Your Highness, come with me!”

I called playfully as I followed him. Today, Tristan’s pace was unusually fast.

Having successfully completed the Lirisia task, it was now time to sell the glassware.

One of the artisans we had rescued previously volunteered to assist in the transaction. Since he was a skilled professional, it would be helpful for him to handle explanations and pricing, so he joined us.

Today, we planned to rent a tavern to celebrate the successful transaction and relax, and the glassware would go on sale from tomorrow.

Our group slowly headed toward the restaurant district in the center of Kalhaven.

“You should be careful. The atmosphere is unusual, Your Highness.”

While casually passing through the streets, Sir Johannes frowned and looked around. Indeed, there was a strange aura in the surroundings.

The newly entered square was filled with noisy chaos.

Yet it was not excitement but a tense, oppressive atmosphere. There was a strong smell of smoke coming from somewhere.

Looking around for the source, we saw a strange pile of wood in the middle of the square.

“What is that, Your Highness? Could it be a pyre?”

It was no exaggeration; that was exactly what it seemed to be.

The pile of firewood, soaked with oil, was already beginning to catch fire. On top of the stacked wood, a prisoner with his arms bound tightly with thick ropes was trembling violently. I could only fall silent.

“…It seems they are about to carry out an execution by burning.”

Tristan spoke with visible displeasure. Sir Gehardt asked a middle-aged man standing nearby with a shocked expression,

“What is going on? Why is this person being burned?”

The man frowned and replied,

“They are a servant of the devil. They say the soul must be purified with fire.”

“What…?”

Sir Gehardt murmured in disbelief. Was a premodern witch hunt still happening here? A wave of both disgust and confusion washed over me. Words slipped out before I could stop myself.

“What does that even mean? How do they prove someone is a servant of the devil?”

The man glanced briefly at me.