How to Get My Husband on My Side

Chapter 96

 

“That’s so like Father. On the Omerta side, they can’t show it openly because of the presence of the princess, but it’s possible if we push her.”

 

Ha, yes. It’s really a Borgian idea.

 

Unless the Pope admits it, no king of any country can sit on the throne at will.

 

It was a powerful holy right that came down through a very long history.

 

Of course, no matter how absolute the power was, it was surprisingly unlikely that it had a great impact on the succession rights of other royal families without a proper justification in the Vatican.

 

For now, it was a common practice for the heir to the throne to pledge loyalty to the Pope, and for the Vatican to send greetings to attend the coronation ceremony in the sense of approval.

 

But if it’s the current situation in Britannia…….

 

If the Pope declared that there could be no king mixed with the blood of a pagan, there was no shortage of justification.

 

It was rather unfair. There would be many people inside Britannia who’d welcome it.

 

No, there’d be a lot. If Omerta agrees with that, the result was already set.

 

Was that why they were talking earlier?

 

Did King Feanol ever guess what would happen?

 

“Do you want to be a queen, Ruby?”

 

There was actually someone else who wanted to hear that question.

 

As the wave-like confusion receded, my mind worked quickly.

 

If it really happened, wouldn’t the ending of the original work, which I was so worried about, be a completely different world story?

 

Ellenia’s assassination was likely to have never happened.

 

But what about Arien? What will happen to Arien? And should I say that this was right?

 

“I… I don’t know, I’ve never imagined it. I don’t know if my husband will agree with it.”

 

“It’s your husband. All you have to do is say that you want to be a queen.”

 

Cesare muttered with a snort.

 

I wondered if he was serious, as his purple eyes became distorted.

 

I carefully chose my words, swallowing my trembling breath.

 

“But then.. I have no chance of going back home. Is that okay with you?”

 

Cesare did not answer immediately.

 

Instead, he just stood holding my hand and stared at me silently for a long time.

 

Emotions were completely gone in both eyes.

 

“You’re right. Even if it’s not Father, I’m me.”

 

Finally, the voice answering the question was low. It sounded almost hoarse.

 

“So you can’t be a person who is satisfied with catching fish while living on an island.”

 

“That…”

 

to be a queen, Ruby? Be honest. Are you

 

quickly erupted in his eyes. As the blue fire blazed, my hand

 

question, it was such a terrible situation

 

all of a

 

you’ll be happy to be a queen next to him. I don’t think you want to come

 

open. This

 

with his

 

be true.

 

blind eye to the temple’s approach throughout your time here.

 

the family always doubt it, so

 

a way to communicate with the temple at all costs. You don’t just write letters

 

sounded

 

the hatred of someone who was not

 

passed through

 

mad with

 

who had everything he

 

had to put all his strength against his father, didn’t have a natural right from birth, a flawless noble lineage, knight’s path, shining throne, not even the

 

of inferiority that the Pope’s eldest son, Cesare

 

inferiority complex that he was

 

it would be

 

to be a

 

“I…”

 

“…….”

 

now. My husband is nice to

 

guess I shouldn’t have said

 

have

 

idea what the source of Cesare’s inferiority complex was or exactly what made him who

 

problem was that I was not the real Rudbeckia to know that, but

 

let you go

 

me off and growled graciously. Then he

 

who made the decision, it

 

God forgive me if I didn’t expect that even after seeing all those moments. Do you want to be

 

“I-I mean…”

 

abandons you. If that happens, the queen will stay as the queen.

 

* * *

 

I remember hurting my head while rolling here a long time ago. Was it when

 

“Is that so…?”

 

remember? At that time, the princess was playing

 

I was so

 

hesitated, but she

 

old memories. A time when the courtyard of Omerta’s was

 

rising memory, Ellenia

 

wall showed no signs of movement. Her long

 

“Are they fighting?”

 

“I think so too….”

 

his head and scratched his head. Likewise, he seemed to regret

 

“At this point…”

 

“Ellen!”

 

she was about to

 

voice. At the same time, she wondered why she felt

 

you come all the

 

been sitting down for so long that I have a

 

Sir Camu, a man with wet hair, escorted Freya with

 

him and

 

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