I Became The Novel's Biggest Antagonist

Chapter 18 The Depressed Pendragon Family

In Camelot, the city's reconstruction was progressing steadily, but the Imperial Palace naturally took precedence. While Ivan showed little concern for the palace, being far more occupied with his studies in Ocryphia, it had been Kamila's idea to prioritize its restoration.

The palace now belonged entirely to Ivan, who had become the de facto Emperor of Britannia. Kamila, ever mindful of his status, insisted the palace be immaculate for his eventual return. Within a month—by overworking the labor force more than necessary—she ensured the palace was not only rebuilt but scrubbed clean of the bloodshed they had left behind.

The results were undeniable; the palace gleamed brighter than ever. The workers, however, were another story. Exhausted to the brink, they had to push through their fatigue, but Kamila cared little for their weariness.

At that moment, Gwenyra was the one intervening, offering some measure of peace, using her calming presence to keep their spirits from crumbling. In her rare moments of guilt for manipulating them, she even extended a hand of gratitude to each one, though it felt like the bare minimum after what she was doing.

Gwenyra sat currently in her private study within the palace, her delicate frame hunched over a desk cluttered with paperwork. The documents piled high reflected the turmoil not just in Camelot, but in the surrounding major towns of Britannia as well.

Her beautiful face showed the strain of sleepless nights, dark circles forming under her eyes, while her quill moved across the parchment in an almost mechanical fashion.

Upon closer inspection, her wrists, ankles, and neck were encircled by restraining bracelets—explosive devices meant to keep her in line, should she dare to attempt anything reckless. In her own study, she was usually left alone, aside from the occasional maid. But today, two people stood silently with her to watch her.

A man and a woman.

These people weren't her attendants, nor were they from Britannia. They were part of Ivan's personal Legion, draped in black from head to toe. The black cross of Seraphiel hung prominently from their necks, swaying in Gwenyra's peripheral vision as if to mock her.

It wasn't that they truly feared Gwenyra would escape, but they needed to keep a watchful eye on Britannia's First Princess, ensuring she didn't engage in any suspicious activity behind their backs. Not that they believed she would, given that her entire family was being held hostage.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Her only moments of respite came in the quiet of her room after completing the day's endless tasks. From managing Camelot to ensuring her people's needs were met, Gwenyra had to personally oversee everything, all of which, indirectly, served Ivan's interests as well.

"It's exhausting, watching a damned Britannian princess scribble away for hours," Laura muttered, her dark eyes glaring disdainfully at Gwenyra.

"There's nothing we can do. Lady Kamila doesn't trust this woman in the slightest. Neither do I," Jostin replied with a sigh.

"Who would trust a follower of that stupid 'Savior' in the first place?" Laura scoffed, sneering.

She expected some kind of reaction from Gwenyra, but none came. The princess was too drained to respond, having endured countless insults toward her faith in the Savior over the past month. It had all become background noise to her.

As Laura considered throwing another insult Gwenyra's way, a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. One of their colleagues entered the room, glancing at Gwenyra before announcing, "Lunch is ready for the Princess."

It was already well into the afternoon.

At the mention of lunch, Gwenyra's tired eyes briefly lit up with a glimmer of happiness. Mealtime was one of the few moments of joy she had left, as it allowed her to reunite with her family. Despite the circumstances, they still dined together.

Of course, Kamila, who oversaw the royal captives, had no intention of allowing these family meals out of kindness. It was another form of control, an idea she had learned from Ivan himself. Each day, Gwenyra was reminded—subtly but unmistakably—that her family's lives rested in Kamila's hands. One wrong move, and they would all be executed one by one.

"I hear today is your wedding day, sister. Well, congratulations?" Aldan, their younger brother, spoke up, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he shoveled food into his mouth, paying little attention to his manners. His face wore a bored, annoyed expression.

Gwenyra's heart sank. She knew why her brother was angry. Aldan believed she had become far too compliant with Gevurah, too willing to accept her marriage to their enemy. To him, it seemed like she had embraced her fate—perhaps even welcomed it—turning her back on the struggle for Britannia's freedom.

Though Aldan likely understood, deep down, that Gwenyra was doing all of this for their family's survival, he refused to acknowledge it. His pride, his grief for their fallen kingdom, blinded him to the sacrifices she was making. Gwenyra met his gaze with a bitter expression, unable to summon any words of defense.

"Brother..." Elaine whispered, her sad eyes pleading with Aldan to be kinder, but her voice held no sway over his bitterness.

Their parents, Guinevere and Arthur, exchanged looks of quiet pain. They could only watch their daughter in silence, their faces filled with sorrow and fear. This was no ordinary wedding—it was a life sentence. Gwenyra was to marry Ivan Zakharovic Kozlow, the man responsible for Britannia's collapse and their crushing defeat.

The man who had stripped their family of its power, and now, he would bind himself to Gwenyra, sealing their fate even further.

"I... I'm fine, everyone. Don't worry," Gwenyra said, forcing a smile, though it was fragile and far from convincing.

-Thud!

The doors swung open suddenly, revealing a breathtaking figure—Kamila. Her long, blond hair shimmered under the soft light, contrasting sharply with her pitch-black eyes.

Despite seeing her frequently, Uther and Aldan couldn't help but be momentarily captivated. They had never encountered a woman more stunning than Kamila, a beauty that both fascinated them.

As Kamila's gaze swept across the room, landing on each member of the royal family, they instinctively averted their eyes, as if unable to meet her cold, penetrating stare.

"Is there a problem, Lady Kamila?" Laura, Jostin, and the other guards immediately knelt in front of their superior. Laura, in particular, wore a bright smile, looking up at Kamila with admiration.

"Ivan is here," Kamila announced simply.

"...!"

The room fell into a suffocating silence. The very mention of Ivan's name sent a ripple of fear through the royal family, though it affected them and the Gevurah soldiers in starkly different ways. The Gevurah members trembled with reverence and awe, worshipful respect etched on their faces.

In contrast, the six members of Britannia's royal family paled, terror gripping their hearts.

Guinevere, Aldan, and Elaine trembled uncontrollably, their bodies betraying the overwhelming fear they felt. Only Arthur, Uther, and Gwenyra managed to maintain a semblance of composure, but even their faces had turned ghostly white, drained of any color.

Kamila's eyes locked onto Gwenyra, ignoring the rest of the family entirely.

"You. Come with me."