Chapter 845: 442 Confrontation

While a certain Prince of the Blood kicked the Queen's iron skull across the room and ordered guards to open the door for the thief, "Princess Veronica" had already led the Queen's attendants to the old King, who was reading in his study.

"Hmm?"

Noticing the familiar figure outside the study door, the old King—his entire body covered in rust, his glass eyes clouded with tarnish—frowned.

"Didn't I order you confined for a week? Who let you out?"

"Mother let me out."

The Princess outside the door bowed gracefully, her green glass eyes brimming with gratitude.

"I knocked over a cabinet and made some noise; Mother worried I'd been hurt inside, so she had me released."

Mother?

After hearing the Princess's explanation, the old King's frown deepened instead of easing.

"Veronica."

After calling her name, the old King, basking in the sun by the window, laid his scroll on his lap and asked sharply, his expression darkening.

"What exactly are you trying to do?"

"Father?"

The Princess outside the study raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I haven't planned anything. Why would you ask that?"

"I haven't prepared to do anything—why would you ask that?"

The old King did not answer immediately. Instead, he gestured to his attendant to turn his wheelchair to face the door, directly toward the Princess.

Then, his back to the sunlight, he lifted his head. His iron face, thickly corroded, fixed her with two clouded gemstone eyes like a hawk's—each word deliberate.

Immediately afterward, the old king, his back to the sunlight, lifted his head; on his iron face, heavily rusted, two cloudy gemstone eyes fixed upon the princess like a hawk's, each word deliberate:

"You've never called her mother!"

The Princess at the door blinked, her clear, luminous gemstone eyes meeting his gaze as she smiled.

"Things are different now. The next King can only be Joshua. I have no chance of inheriting the throne, and you plan to marry me off far away. 【22】 A princess married off must rely on the Kingdom's support to survive—so of course I must begin pleasing Mother and Joshua."

Now it's different from before; the next king can only be Joshua—I have no chance of inheriting the throne, and I'll be married off far away by you.

And as a princess married far away, whether I thrive or suffer abroad depends entirely on how the kingdom treats me. To avoid losing the kingdom's support after marriage, I must naturally begin to curry favor with Mother and Joshua."

After listening to Princess Veronica's explanation with a furrowed brow, the old King's unease didn't fade—it grew worse.

Though the situation matched her words—without the Kingdom's backing, a married-off princess would suffer—still...

The current situation matches Veronica's words: if a princess married far away lacks the kingdom's support, her life will surely be hard—so she truly should strive to build a good relationship with Joshua and his mother. But…

Watching the Princess smile calmly before his accusation, he knew she was his daughter—yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

The Veronica he remembered wasn't inflexible, but she was stubborn in many ways—far more obstinate than she appeared.

If she could truly understand this—that she should bow to the Queen and Joshua for her own benefit—why hadn't she bowed to him long ago?

If she had been willing to abandon her foolish ideals and fulfill her duty as Princess, putting the Royal House first, the throne would have been hers—Joshua would never have had a chance!

If she abandons those foolish notions, continues fulfilling her duties as a princess, and always places the royal house first, the throne will surely be hers—Joshua has not even a sliver of a chance!"

Gripping the armrests of his wheelchair, the old King narrowed his eyes and snarled.

"Speak! Who are you?"

"Father?"

The "Princess" outside blinked, startled. "What are you talking about? How could I not be Veronica? I'm your daughter!"

The "princess" outside the study blinked, surprised:

The old King dismissed her instantly.

"Veronica is far more arrogant. She's always polite, but she's always looked down on the Queen—and never once on Joshua.

Someone like her might compromise temporarily for her absurd ideals, but she'd never bow to someone she despised just to make her life easier!"

"Veronica is far more arrogant than you. Though she maintains politeness daily, she has always looked down on the Queen and never held Joshua in any esteem."

Looking at the wary old King, the Princess sighed.

"People grow... I used to be like that. But now I've come to see.

Though Joshua and Mother are utterly incompetent, they have the support of the Finance Minister and you—I must show them proper respect.

So now, I'm not respecting them—they're beneath me—but respecting what supports them. Do you understand?"

Though Joshua and her mother's abilities are utterly insignificant, they have the support of the Finance Minister and Your Majesty—so I must grant them the respect they're due.

Therefore, what I respect now is not them themselves, but what supports them… Do you understand what I mean?"

Hearing Princess Veronica's defense, the old King's eyes flickered with doubt. After a long silence, he seemed convinced. His rigid spine relaxed slightly, sinking back into his wheelchair.

"Too bad..."

Shaking his head faintly, the old King sighed, weary.

"It's all decided now. I can't change it... Joshua—his ability, his character—how can he compare to you? You were always my chosen heir. If only you'd grown up sooner..."

After a slight shake of his head, the old king in the wheelchair sighed, his expression weary:

Seeing the genuine regret and sorrow on the old King's iron face, the Princess outside bit her lip, then stepped forward, her voice trembling with emotion.

"It's not too late!"

Gazing at the seated King, Princess Veronica pleaded earnestly.

"You are the only King of this nation. As long as you wish it, it's never too late!"

Gazing at the old king in the wheelchair, Princess Veronica said earnestly:

The old King, softened by her words, slumped against his chair's back, no longer upright.

"Whether you or Joshua—you're both my children. I've already promised him... Hmm? Joshua?"

He suddenly froze, eyes wide with shock as he stared at the door.

"You were in the Assembly. Why are you back so soon?"

As if discovering something momentous, the old king stared in shock toward the door, his face filled with confusion:

Hearing the old King's words, Princess Veronica stiffened. Without thinking, she turned toward the door.

But in that instant, the old King, still leaning back, reached beneath his wheelchair seat and pulled out a large-caliber nail gun.

He aimed it at the back of the iron Princess's head—and fired without hesitation.

Yet the instant she turned her head, the old king, leaning back in his chair, suddenly pulled a large-caliber nail gun from beneath the wheelchair seat, aimed it at the back of the iron princess's skull, and fired without hesitation!

The iron Princess collapsed face-first, stunned by the impact.

Before she could rise, the old King raised the gun again—four shots rang out in rapid succession.

The metallic right knee joint of the iron Princess was first deformed by the force, then pinned shut by four nails—she collapsed to her knees, utterly immobilized.

"Guards!"

The old King tossed the nail gun to his attendant, then raised his rusted but unnervingly steady hand, pointing at the fallen iron Princess.

"Seize her! And send someone to Veronica's room... No—first find the Queen. See if she's still alive!"