Marcos Gildark, the Captain of the Knights Order, cleared his throat loudly to dissolve the lingering tension, clearly struggling hard to steer the proceedings back on track.
“Next, Felt-sama with her knight, Reinhard van Astrea.”
All eyes shifted from Merope and Emilia, who were still standing close to each other, and now turned to Felt as she stepped forward in her large, billowing golden-yellow dress—yet her stride this time was vastly different from the clumsiness that had been so apparent earlier that morning.
There was something hard in her eyes, a fire that had long been hidden behind her daily casual grumblings.
“I hate this kingdom.”
That opening sentence fell like a crushing blow into the center of the room, which had only just begun to calm down.
Several council members gasped, and even Marcos himself froze for a moment, clearly not expecting such a harsh opening.
“I hate these arrogant nobles.”
Felt took another step further into the center of the hall, her eyes sweeping across the room with a gaze that didn’t try to hide her anger even a little bit.
“If I become King,” Felt gritted her teeth and uttered every word with clear emphasis, as though every syllable was a blow she had long wanted to unleash, “I’m going to destroy this system! I’ll kick all of you out of the Royal Palace and finally let this rotten place breathe!”
The room fell into a gripping silence—vastly different from the awe-struck silence that had previously greeted Merope’s simple words.
This was a silence full of shock, repressed anger, and for some of the nobles present, perhaps also a hint of guilt they refused to admit publicly.
Merope, who had been standing near Emilia all this time, stared at Felt with widened eyes—not out of fear, but out of pure worry at seeing her friend standing alone amidst such a deep, real fury.
Without a second thought, she quickly stepped closer, shaking Felt’s shoulders with both hands.
“I told you bullying is not good, Felt!” she exclaimed, her tone panicked yet sincere, as if she didn’t fully grasp that what Felt had just done wasn’t merely teasing someone, but detonating long-pent-up wounds right in front of the very people who were the source of those wounds.
Felt turned her head, her eyes still blazing with emotion that hadn’t fully subsided, yet the corners of her lips twitched slightly—a mix of annoyance and amusement at hearing that reprimand.
“Ow, my head hurts, you know!” she cried out, gently brushing Merope’s hands off her shoulders, though without any real anger.
“That’s if I become the king, so beat me if you don’t want that to happen!”
Merope fell silent for a moment, processing those words, before her expression slowly shifted, hesitation replaced by a resolve that began to harden in her eyes.
“Oh, right,” she said, nodding slowly, as if she had just found the answer to a simple riddle, “in that case, I will definitely become the king.”
That sentence, spoken in a tone as light as making a promise to play tomorrow, somehow carried a much heavier weight once heard by the entire room—a declaration of determination that was no longer just about proving herself not a threat, but now also about protecting this kingdom from the unhealed anger of her own dear friend.
“Are we done yet? Let’s go back, Reinhard! Merope!” Felt snapped coldly, turning around abruptly so that her dress flared out, ignoring the closing protocol of the hearing that should have taken place. This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
Reinhard bowed respectfully toward the Council of Wise Men as an apology for his master’s behavior, then turned to follow Felt’s quick footsteps leaving the stage.
Merope also bowed hurriedly.
“Wait for me, Felt! Reinhard!”
Priscilla snorted with amusement behind her golden fan before stepping gracefully outside, followed by Aldebaran.
Anastasia sighed with a faint smile, while Crusch walked with her usual firm stride.
One by one, the candidates and their knights departed, leaving the hall to slowly return to its quiet state after the overwhelming wave of emotion that had just swept through it.
Merope trotted after Felt and Reinhard, her white cloth fluttering lightly behind her, occasionally glancing briefly at Emilia who was still standing in her place, giving a small nod and a sincere smile before completely disappearing behind the hall’s large doors—a simple gesture that what had just happened between them wasn’t a fleeting coincidence, but the beginning of something more.
…..
Loving the continuation of Re:Zero The Other Pandora?