Chapter 1963: Chapter 1963

"Yes, I believe that is the stain.

Isn't that right, Duke Gerrod? Be honest, as you'd swear before God—tell me, do you truly believe that choosing Jenkins as the successor is the correct decision?"

Of course, it was the right decision. Even Queen Isabella's staunchest supporters couldn't deny that Jenkins, a descendant of the Middletons, was virtually flawless—save for his lack of political experience and his excessive closeness to the Church. Compared to the other potential heirs, he was by far the most suitable candidate.

"Her Majesty has already declared him the successor."

Thus, the duke dodged the question.

"I believe he should become king immediately."

Miss Windsor stated. Queen Isabella simply laughed, shaking her head as she turned her gaze to Jenkins:

"After all this roundabout talk, is this why you've come to me?"

"My apologies. You probably assumed I wouldn't do anything drastic, but sometimes, a choice must be made."

He knew it was time to leave; he had already wasted too much time here. He cleared his throat.

"I'll ask you one last time: will you relinquish the throne to me now?"

She was cut off before she could finish. Footsteps sounded from the doorway, and J-Miss, dressed in hunting attire, strode into the room.

"I suggest you think very carefully."

Queen Isabella and Duke Gerrod froze in shock. Their eyes darted from the figure in the doorway back to the Miss Windsor who stood beside them.

"It's all real. The explanation is complicated, but they are both genuinely Jessica Windsor."

J-Miss walked to Jenkins's side and rested a hand on his empty shoulder.

"Sometimes, a choice must be made. As a ruler, you should know that certain choices outweigh all others combined. I, too, was once queen. Yes, you heard me right. I once reigned as the queen of Fidektri, and I know I fell short."

"I, too, once reigned as queen of this nation," Miss Windsor said. "And frankly, it was miserable. I despised the responsibilities that never should have been mine."

"I'm asking for the second time, are you willing to relinquish the throne to me now?"

Jenkins asked again. This time, Queen Isabella did not offer an immediate refusal as she had before.

"You've been queens?"

She looked at the two Windsors. Having long sensed that something was amiss with "Jessica," she was surprisingly not as stunned as the old duke beside her, though her heart was pounding.

"Yes. In a world you do not know."

The voices of Miss Windsor and J-Miss overlapped, creating an uncanny resonance.

"You always think about yourself, but you never once consider Jessica's feelings."

J-Miss delivered her conclusion:

"And you are utterly ruthless. Are you really the person you believe yourself to be?"

J-Miss posed the very question in which Jessica herself had once briefly lost her way.

"Think about it. Look deep inside your heart. Are you truly the person you believe you are?"

The old queen drew a deep breath.

"I am not perfect, I know this. But at least where you are concerned, my conscience is clear. Since you did not want to succeed, I allowed Jenkins to, but reserved two years to make the final preparations. Jessica, does that not show how I've looked out for you?"

"Yes, I understand your feelings for me."

A third voice drifted down as Jessica descended from the second floor of the villa.

"This is the Jessica Windsor you know," Jenkins explained. "The one who has never been queen."

"It is precisely because I understand that I don't want you to make a mistake."

Jessica paused on the staircase, looking down at the people assembled in the drawing room.

"Before Jenkins's patience wears out completely, allow me to ask the final question."

Seeing the situation spiraling out of control, Duke Gerrod tried to rise, only to find himself paralyzed. He couldn't even open his mouth to cry out; all he could do was watch helplessly as the scene continued to unfold.

"My question is, why are you unwilling to let Jenkins succeed the throne now?"

"He pursues reform, and I want to use these two years to preserve as much of my political legacy as possible."

Queen Isabella grew flustered. She had considered the possibility of Jenkins making a move, but now that it was actually happening, she felt a genuine sense of dread.

"Then it's my turn. My final question is—"

"What exactly is this 'political legacy' you speak of? Every existing law and regulation?"

"No. I just don't want my entire life's work to become meaningless after my death."

She spoke with determination, but the blurred image of the previous king's face swam before her eyes. She remembered their last conversation, and for the first time, a flicker of doubt entered her mind. Was what she was doing right now truly correct? Just as J-Miss had asked, she began to question if she was really the person she believed herself to be.

"Then it's my turn at last. My final question is—"

As Miss Windsor asked her final question, Jenkins watched her, knowing that regardless of the outcome, he was prepared to use his Lie Godhood.

"If Jenkins were to promise that, even if he took the crown now, you could still have a hand in politics for the next two years, would you be willing to..."

"It means Jenkins doesn't care what you do. He's confident that the reforms he brings will shape the future of this world. Therefore, you are free to do as you please for the next two years, but you must relinquish the throne."

Jenkins announced, his patience finally spent.

He turned his head to Queen Isabella, their eyes locking. A sudden, suffocating panic seized her. Like a drowning woman, she glanced desperately at the Jessicas beside her, but not one of them offered her a lifeline. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ NovelHub(.)net

The image of the previous king appeared before her eyes once more. Every conversation from that afternoon, every reflection on her life, every thought about her relationship with Jessica—it all flashed through her mind like a series of revolving lanterns.

"I am the rightful heir of Fidektri..."

Her panic reached its zenith. The intense strain, paradoxically, sharpened her mind. Hallucinatory visions of what would come next replayed in her thoughts, and the sheer terror made it difficult to breathe.

No, it can't end , she thought, just as Jenkins was about to complete his sentence:

"Therefore, you will now..."

She suddenly told herself. Her eyes widened as she stared at Jenkins, emptying her mind to stop the overwhelming fear from making her tremble in an undignified manner.

"I am not afraid. My path still lies before me. This man is a descendant of the Middletons, and I made a promise to the late king."