Head Butler of the Fallen Villainess-Chapter 97 - 20th Days (9) | Time of Many Revelations (6)

Anastasia's breath hitched—! Her eyes widened—not just in shock, but in sheer disbelief.

A coup...?

That single word rang in her ears... echoing through her mind.

It was absurd.

Ridiculous, even.

And yet... she was the one who had spoken it into existence.

And her own butler had confirmed her words without hesitation.

Those around them were just as equally bewildered—perhaps even more so.

Her two loyal aides, Martha and Bella, both stood frozen, eyes wide, mouths agape as if their jaws might unhinge at any moment. Especially Bella—the poor blonde maid looked one gasp away from fainting outright.

And then there was their guest of honor, Vivian—who had already been thrown off balance by the revelation that the redheaded noble brat she had been teasing...

Not only had she killed the Crown Prince... but she was also one of the central figures in an even greater scandal.

And a scandal of this magnitude...

It was like a storm brewing in the heart of the kingdom... waiting for the moment to break loose and decimate everything.

Anastasia swallowed hard, her mind spinning as she struggled to grasp the full weight of it. She managed to wrangle her thoughts before shifting her gaze back to her butler... who was calmly waiting for her.

"Sir... Sebas..." she called him, her voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. "...Are you... certain of this... of this... coup?"

Sebas... simply said nothing, maintaining the same neutral expression.

He didn't need to answer... because his silence was already confirmation itself.

"That's..." Anastasia clenched her fists. "That's absurd... If something like that truly happened... why has no one heard even a whisper of it? How could something so massive be buried so completely?"

"You're the one who suggested it, my lady," Sebas simply shrugged, his expression nonchalant—almost uncaring, "I merely confirmed it."

Anastasia flinched, taken aback by his calm response.

He was right—she had been the one to voice the thought... and yet, now she was the one doubting her own words.

The thought had come to her naturally, like a puzzle piece snapping into place.

But... why?

No... how had she even arrived at such a conclusion?

Sebas, seeing Anastasia's struggle, exhaled softly...

"...My lady, if I may be so bold as to ask you once more."

"H-huh...? W-what is it, Sir Sebas...?"

"...How did you even come to that conclusion to begin with?"

"—!"

How...?

She froze, his inquiry echoing in her mind... and she looked deep within herself.

To her crime.

To her punishment.

To her exile.

And they all started from the moment she had—

In that moment, her chest tightened—

"...The Crown Prince," she murmured. "I killed him."

Silence hung in the air.

Sebas met her gaze, waiting.

"...And?"

Anastasia swallowed hard.

"And... I was exiled," she continued, her mind racing. "I was branded a sinner and sent here."

"Yes. And yet..." The butler gestured lightly, "no one knew about it."

That single fact gnawed at her very being.

The lone anomaly that she still found hard to grasp.

After all, it didn't make sense.

The kingdom should have been in an uproar. The Crown Prince had been killed by his own fiancée—an act of treason, of madness!

There should have been trials, outrage, nobles clamoring for her execution.

Because in reality—

Someone who killed royalty would never be spared.

It didn't matter if she was a Duke's daughter.

It didn't matter if Duke Rosavich had pulled every string, spent every ounce of influence he had.

No one could escape the consequences of regicide.

Even if she had been the Crown Prince's fiancée, even if she had been next in line to be queen—

She should have been executed... in front of the masses, no less, as they cursed her name—

And yet, there was none of that.

Instead of the guillotine, instead of the noose—

Her crime had never even been made public.

The whole kingdom remained ignorant.

The nobles didn't riot.

The people didn't protest.

The knights didn't demand her head.

They had simply... removed her.

Sent her to the Garden of Hell—a death sentence by another name.

Not a swift execution. Not a public trial.

But quiet, inevitable erasure.

As if the Crown had wanted her to disappear.

As if they had needed her to die quietly, lost in the dangerous frontier where no one would ask questions.

"...They didn't want anyone to know," she realized, her visage darkening.

Sebas simply nodded once again, a confirmation. "...Go on."

Anastasia exhaled sharply.

"If my crime was truly my own—if I acted alone—then the Crown would have made an example of me," she said, her voice gaining strength. "They wouldn't have just exiled me... They would have paraded my punishment. They would have made sure everyone knew."

"But... they didn't." Sebas's gaze sharpened. "...Why?"

Anastasia flinched, unsettled by his piercing gaze, as pieces of the puzzle began to form once more... revealing the bigger picture.

"Because my crime... wasn't just mine."

The words spilled out before she could stop them.

"If they covered it up... then it means my crime served someone else. Someone powerful enough to bury it." Her voice trembled, but she forced herself to keep going. "Killing the Crown Prince wasn't just a scandal—it was a move. A piece of something bigger... and I—"

She was just a pawn in a game she never even knew she was playing.

And with that realization... her vision swayed—her whole reality became a daze...

Sebas leaned back, watching her with quiet approval.

"Now, tell me, Lady Anastasia..."

His next words sent a chill down her spine.

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"Who benefited from the Crown Prince's death?"

Silence.

No one spoke. No one dared to answer that question.

Because now... they all understood.

This was never JUST about Anastasia.

This was about the kingdom itself.

A coup... had already happened.

And she had been its executioner—the one who set it all into motion.

But then—

"Lady Anastasia, I ask your forgiveness once more for my boldness, but... a question—" He leaned forward slightly, his sharp eyes locking onto Anastasia's own, which brimmed with unspoken turmoil. "—If a coup already transpired within the Crown, why was it never made public?"

Anastasia became tense as a lump forming in her throat.

Why, indeed?

If the Crown Prince had been assassinated—if the royal family had suffered a betrayal from within—surely, the kingdom would have been shaken. There would have been outrage, power struggles, accusations thrown like daggers.

Yet none of that had happened.

Florentia remained whole.

The throne remained stable.

The world had simply... moved on, continuing to function as it always had.

As if nothing had ever occurred.

Anastasia... couldn't help but cross her arms, her hands gripping her upper arms as if to steady herself, as the answers began to come naturally into her consciousness.

"...There are only two possibilities," she murmured quietly, barely above a whisper.

But Sebas heard it... and nodded lightly, waiting for her to continue.

"Either..." She exhaled slowly, piecing it together. "The true culprit was never found."

A dangerous thought.

If the one who orchestrated this was still lurking in the shadows, manipulating events from behind the scenes—

Then this wasn't over.

Her exile, the secrecy, the buried truth—it meant the coup wasn't finished.

And the one who set it all into motion... was still in play.

She shuddered.

Sebas simply remained silent, watching her with quiet patience.

Anastasia clenched her jaw, gritting her teeth.

"...Or."

The second possibility.

The worse one.

She hesitated, feeling the weight of her own words before she even spoke them.

"Or... the one responsible is someone so powerful, so deeply entrenched within the kingdom, that making this public would cause even greater chaos."

A truth too dangerous to expose.

Sebas simply tilted his head. "...And what would happen if such chaos were to erupt?" he asked, a faux curiosity lacing his voice.

Anastasia swallowed hard.

"...Civil war," she whispered. The words felt heavy on her tongue, yet she continued, "...a civil war would break out and swallow Florentia whole."

And her butler... confirmed it all once more.

"Indeed... you are quite wise, my lady."

His praise felt more like an affirmation of the worst outcome, as if he had merely waited for her to reach the inevitable conclusion herself.

Because he had confirmed the worst that could have happened.

A Florentia divided, noble houses turning on each other, the land soaked in blood—

If the coup had been hidden to prevent that from happening...

Then her crime, her exile, everything had been a calculated move to keep the kingdom from breaking apart.

Had she unknowingly played a role in keeping the nation intact?

Or—

Had she simply been discarded, silenced, and used?

She didn't know which was worse.

Martha's fists trembled, her knuckles white with quiet frustration and dread, realizing that her mistress's fate had been nothing more than a pawn's sacrifice to prevent an imminent catastrophe.

Bella's face had gone pale, her eyes darting between Sebas and Anastasia, slowly coming to terms with the sheer scale of the conspiracy they had been entangled in.

Even Vivian, normally indifferent to politics, looked tense—her eyes narrowed as she imagined the worst possible implications.

Because now, they all understood.

This wasn't just some hidden scandal anymore.

This was a buried war—one that had never truly ended.

And not just Anastasia, but all of them had been caught in its wake.