May Every Wound Be Fatal - Chapter 6.1
Reyna first met Elizer when she turned seventeen and visited the royal capital, Elmaril, for the first time in her life.
She was scolded until her tears dried for sneaking out of the inner castle because she was curious about her future husband, but the headstrong young lady did not become docile afterward. She remained curious about her future husband and, immersed in knightly literature, dreamed of a fateful love.
Meanwhile, rumors came true. Prince Kassian did not wait for the still-young Reyna and instead married a princess from a subordinate kingdom.
People whispered that Reyna Dazbel would never become queen.
Even if the duke was uneasy about the matter, Reyna remained calm. She secretly believed the words of the elderly Dochioin who had threatened her, though the idea made her uneasy.
“Even so, I will become queen, and my husband will love me.”
She had long since forgotten the other unlucky stories. At that time, she was confident that she would always be happy.
Time passed, and finally, when Reyna turned seventeen, her father Leonard said,
“Next spring, you will become the consort of Prince Tiberian.”
He was the son of King Bailion’s second queen, whom the king cherished greatly. Many lined up behind him even though Prince Kassian, the son of the late first queen, was the eldest.
‘So Prince Tiberian will become the next king.’
At that point, this was the extent of what Reyna understood, and from then on, her interest was entirely focused on Prince Tiberian.
“Hey, Karla. Go and get a portrait of Prince Tiberian.”
When she received the portrait, the prince looked far more impressive than she had imagined.
His platinum hair shone like sunlight, his eyes were clear and pale, and his face was sculpted and handsome.
Only the most kinglike among the Wills had platinum hair that gleamed like a star. Reyna was certain Prince Tiberian would become king.
Though Prince Kassian existed, making this thought audacious and presumptuous, most of the Dazbel household unconsciously believed that the prince chosen by the duke, Prince Tiberian, would become king. The duke’s influence reached the heavens, and they had no awareness of their own arrogance.
Reyna’s curiosity and expectations regarding Prince Tiberian grew day by day.
By chance, news reached her that her father Leonard would depart for the royal capital, Elmaril.
Thinking this was her opportunity to meet her future husband, Reyna clutched her father’s arm and pleaded,
“Please take me with you. I will behave properly, I promise.”
At his daughter’s earnest request, Leonard seemed to consider for a moment, but unexpectedly permitted her journey to the capital.
“It will be the right time to show that you are the prince’s match.”
Having never left Kaldirac, never passed through the outer gates of the Crimson Citadel, Reyna spent every night restless from that day onward.
What should she say when she first met the prince?
What should they talk about? What might he like?
With a flushed face, Reyna spent all day pondering these questions until she finally went to find her older brother, who seemed busiest in the world, to trouble him.
“Damn it, Reyna. Are you here again to babble about that Prince Tiberian?”
“‘That bastard? Diego!”
Her older brother, Diegor Dazbel, was seven years older than her. Though he had grown into an adult and was often too busy to be seen, he still acted like a playful boy in front of her.
“Since I am busy, go sulk over there in the corner.”
“But you are the only one who has actually met Prince Tiberian.”
Reyna had a reason for pestering Diegor. As a child, Diegor had studied alongside princes in the royal capital. He was the one who knew Prince Tiberian best in the Crimson Citadel.
However, for some reason, Diegor claimed he could not remember much from his childhood and remained tight-lipped.
‘How are you very uncooperative?.’ Reyna glanced at her older brother with narrow eyes.
“You are such a useless older brother.”
“What kind of tone is that from a young lady who will become queen?”
Diegor flicked her round forehead with his finger while giggling, and Reyna, a step behind, covered her forehead and stamped on his playful foot to punish him.
While they bickered like this, Diegor suddenly asked,
“Reyna, do you really want to become queen?”
His unusually serious tone made Reyna feel momentarily awkward, and she nodded.
She wanted to meet her father’s expectations, and she thought that marrying a prince and rising to the highest position would surely make her happy.
“Yes…”
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