"Father!"
At the sight of this, the old count's second son could no longer hold back. He clung to the coffin and burst into tears.
The old count's eldest son frowned.
Without drawing attention to himself, he walked to his younger brother's side and gently patted his shoulder before turning to Mary. "Please forgive him, Your Highness. Peters has lost control because of Father's death."
"Mm."
Mary nodded noncommittally as she looked at the blood inside the coffin.
The blood was so fresh.
There was no sign of coagulation.
The joints and muscles were not stiff either.
It was as though he had only just died.
The knowledge her mother, Aileen, had taught her surfaced bit by bit as Mary examined the corpse. Then, she looked at Qin Ran.
Her eyes were filled with disbelief.
"Fantasy is beautiful."
"Reality is cruel."
"But sometimes, reality is far crueler than imagination."
Qin Ran rubbed the underage princess's head, pointed at the coffin, and continued, "Not long before we entered, the person here was alive."
"Because he was nervous, he kept pacing around here."
"But that did nothing to ease his tension. On the contrary, everything outside made him even more uneasy."
"He regretted it a little."
"But he could not bring himself to make a desperate stand."
"Especially when he was forced to crawl on the ground beneath that invisible pressure, he felt despair. He needed something to comfort himself."
"As it happened..."
"There was something here."
"Alcohol was perfect for soothing his current mood. Without hesitation, he pulled out the cork and drained the bottle in one gulp."
"Then, his son came in."
"Facing his own son, he was still at a loss, but his son had already made up his mind."
"Other than death, what else could possibly matter?"
"Nothing."