Hyperion Savrand Ferraro was known as the Empress’s ‘child born from outside.’ He was the living proof of her infidelity, carrying not a single drop of imperial blood in his veins.
The Empress had no other children after Peon. Consequently, there was a time when the only children in the Imperial Palace were Peon, whom she kept hidden, and Kaella, who was born much later.
The two first met back then. Peon was the older brother figure, and Kaella, the younger sister. Even if they met only a few times a year thereafter, they were, in every sense, brother and sister. That was how it remained, until they were married.
Kaella could not hear what was being called out. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and her breath came in such shallow gasps that her throat felt parched and raw, as if it were tearing. Can a dream truly be this vivid?
She remained rooted to the spot where the Emperor had hastily departed, trying to steady her racing mind. Without warning, her legs gave way, and she collapsed. She needed to rise, but even standing felt like an insurmountable struggle.
“Excuse me.”
A familiar voice accompanied a strong hand, encased in a black glove, that caught her arm and pulled her upright. It was a strength Kaella knew all too well.
Had this man ever been this kind? No, it didn’t matter. In this moment—whether it was a dream or the flickering threshold of her final breaths—she simply wanted to follow her heart.
“Papa, Papa!”
The voice forced from her cracked throat was little more than a ragged gasp. Without a word of thanks to the Grand Duke, Kaella stumbled and crawled toward her father.
“Kaella, why are you here…! It was so dangerous…”
Duke Ostain’s hands trembled as he hurriedly reached out to catch his daughter. He looked as pale as if he had seen a ghost. So, it had already happened. Kaella sensed it; there was no doubt that the Emperor had aimed his pistol at her father and pulled the trigger.
Kaella clutched her father, checking him over and over, but there wasn’t a single scratch on him. It was thanks to the magical tool she had insisted he carry. Thank goodness. It was truly a relief.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. What about you? Don’t you know you shouldn’t be here without His Majesty’s permission?”
And why had the Empress’s bastard come here? What was this talk about the Empress collapsing? The father and daughter, both white as sheets, clung to one another, repeatedly verifying that the other was truly unharmed.
“For now, you both must leave this place.”
A calm yet powerful voice interrupted them. Grand Duke Lyussenford, his massive frame draped in a long cloak, turned slightly toward the entrance.
“Please, this way.”
Famous for being a devoted son, he remained surprisingly composed even after hearing his mother had lost consciousness.
*No, he must be suppressing it quietly again.*
Kaella guessed immediately. Although they had never shared the same room, he was still her husband. He rarely showed his emotions. With a gaze like frost harbored within a face handsome enough to cut, he merely treated oncoming attacks with contempt. Ironically, the person who had received that contempt most often was Kaella.
“Let’s go, Papa. Can you stand?”
“I am fine. Are you?”
“I’m fine, too.”
She forced strength into her legs, which felt impossibly weak, as if she were moving through a vivid dream. Let’s get out of this cursed Imperial Palace. And once she woke from this dream, death would surely find her.
However, if the Empress had lost consciousness and she simply bolted for home, it would be a breach of etiquette. As Duke Ostain was a son recognized by the late Emperor, he was required to remain as ‘family’ in the event of an imperial crisis.
“Please wait at the Altain Palace. I shall accompany you.”
Grand Duke Lyussenford—Peon—knew this well and suggested it first. Etiquette demanded it.
*Besides, the Emperor loses all reason and goes mad when it comes to the Empress; if one didn’t follow etiquette, there would be another disaster.*
She found it ridiculous. While condemning the Empress for her lack of chastity—for betraying her husband and having an affair to produce Peon—the Emperor remained obsessively fixated on her. He even continuously abused the illegitimate Peon, sending him to the North to fight the evil dragon Gwasalante, while coddling the Empress.
It was certain he was losing his grip on his sanity now that the Empress had collapsed. A madman untethered from reality—it was terrifying.
*I envy her. How relieved Her Majesty the Empress must be.*
But more than anything, Kaella envied the Empress for losing consciousness. Locked in pitch-black darkness, her mind would be forever distanced from the world; she would suffer no more pain.
She wished she could stop having these unpleasant, reality-like dreams and just die. Was the poison Beatrice Lavalle gave her strange? She didn’t know why she wasn’t dead, instead lingering here, leaning on her father and following her husband.
“It would be best to sit down and rest for a moment.”
As they settled into the warm Altain Palace, her body, which had rushed over wearing only a thin shawl, finally felt the chill. Kaella wrapped the shawl tighter around herself.
“I will stay here, so why don’t you go home alone?”
Adeo De Chasseur, Duke Ostain, gently urged his daughter, but she shook her head.
“No, no, Papa. I want to stay here, too. I want to stay with you.”
The daughter who had come running, deathly pale—perhaps she had sensed something back when she insisted he take the protective magic tool. Adeo did not press her further. It was fortunate that the pistol held by the Grand Duke of Lyussenford, who stood tall beside the plush sofa, had contained no live ammunition.
“Aren’t you cold, Kaella?”
Grand Duke Lyussenford, who had been standing silently, spoke to her. His tone was surprisingly gentle.
“No, I’m fine.”
Kaella replied so quickly it made him look foolish. Then, she averted her gaze entirely.
Right now, Peon didn’t matter; the fact that her father was alive was everything. She was trembling like an aspen leaf—the lingering shock of a past marred by horrific cold, hunger, and insults partially resurfacing—but she didn’t realize it herself.
She didn’t even notice that Peon was watching her intently. Therefore, she didn’t realize that his eyes had turned from a dull, oily black to a clear, limpid purple.
“Kaella, you’re trembling.”
Her reaction was slow. Or rather, she had absolutely no interest in him. She, who used to chase Peon around calling him ‘Oppa, Oppa,’ now clung tightly to Adeo’s lapel and shivered.
“Oh, my heavens. Kaella. It’s alright, it’s alright.”
Adeo patted his daughter’s back repeatedly. Held in her father’s arms, Kaella looked particularly small to Peon. Small and so young. She was twenty-one, the baby fat barely gone from her cheeks. She was fair and lovely—it was hard to believe she had once died a miserable, starving death.
*She’ll fall terribly ill at this rate.*
In Peon’s memory, Kaella was physically weak and sensitive to the cold. It was only natural, as she was so thin one doubted she had ever been fed properly. That was why her death must have been agonizing. She must have suffered so much because of a husband who knew she was sensitive to the cold and needed proper nourishment, yet abandoned her. His chest ached, the sensation bruising his ribs.
*If I had even placed a restriction on you, you should have just kept your mouth shut and obeyed! Why did you waver for that stupid woman and defy the seal to end up like this!*
The poison that had clouded his brain vanished, and the noise that filled the world disappeared. Seeing Kaella with a clear, lucid mind and senses made everything crystal clear. He quietly untied the knot fastening his cloak.
“Your Grace, could you spare a moment?”
At the proposal for a private, secret conversation, Duke Ostain nodded and carefully sat Kaella on the sofa.
“Very well. Stay here for a moment, Kaella.”
Let her father and husband be alone? That wouldn’t do. As Kaella flinched and started to stand, a thick, overly long cloak belonging to her husband was thrust toward her. Kaella looked at Peon in surprise.
“Hold onto this cloak for a moment.”
“Yes. Wrap yourself in that. You’re trembling too much.”
Before she could even refuse, her father chimed in, leaving Kaella with no choice but to clutch the cloak—far too heavy for her to wear—and watch as the two men disappeared around the corner.
To keep dismissing it as a dream—yes, it was excessively vivid. The cold sweat, the damp palms, the breathing ragged with tension and excitement, and the heart hammering against her ribs like it wanted to break them—it all proved to Kaella, even if she tried to ignore it, that she was a living person. Dreams couldn’t be this vivid.
If this was a vivid reality, then if she starved, she would be hungry, and if she were hurt, she would be in pain. Kaella’s mind, which loathed such things with a passion, began to turn. What on earth was she supposed to do now?
*…Normally, the Emperor killed Papa and took over Ostain. Because Ostain was a place where gold rolled about. But, Papa is alive right now.*
Yes. It was a joyful thing, but at the same time, the timing was poor. The Imperial Palace was on high alert due to rumors of the Empress’s collapse, and the security was even tighter.
*As it stands, that man is the most likely to be struck down by the Emperor without reason.*
In this situation, even Grand Duke Lyussenford would have to tread carefully. After all, he was the Empress’s only son and the eternal proof of her betrayal.
She didn’t know much else, but she had saved her father at great pains, and she didn’t want to give up on this reality. And she didn’t want to live a life full of pain, hardship, and sorrow again. That was instinct; Kaella decided to seize the day. Let’s just survive today for now. In that case, she had to eavesdrop.
Kaella moved stealthily, creeping toward the sofa near the corner where her father and the Grand Duke had gone. Since she was much freer now than when she was the Grand Duchess, blocked from all information, she had to hear whatever could be heard.
However, the first thing she overheard was utterly shocking.
“Did you forget the live ammunition while gifting the pistol, Your Grace?”
Kaella covered her mouth. Peon forgot the live ammunition?
*So the protective magic tool didn’t trigger?*
Who leaves out the cartridges when gifting a pistol? Naturally, they should have been gifted together. At least, the nobles of the Krania Empire didn’t give such sloppy gifts.
Kaella moved a bit more, pressing herself against the wall. This was the Imperial Palace; she had to be careful with every word. She checked her surroundings to see if anyone else besides her was eavesdropping. Peon’s calm reply reached her ears.
“I considered it safer to forget.”
Adeo was in a position where he had to stay in the Imperial Palace to appease his older brother, who had aimed a gun at him and pulled the trigger. But he knew well that this young Grand Duke was in an even more precarious situation.
“……The Emperor will surely reprimand you.”
The Conqueror of the North. The knight who knew no defeat. The Empire’s greatest warrior, who was the only one defending the North against the evil dragon Gwasalante, fixed his mysterious purple eyes, hidden beneath thick brows, respectfully on Adeo. It was a calm gaze that seemed to know everything.
“His Majesty will completely forget the fact that there was no live ammunition. It is the same reason why Your Grace and I can have this conversation freely in the Imperial Palace right now.”
Peon asserted. As far as Adeo knew, Peon had gone to the North because the Emperor kept a tight grip on his mother, the Empress, and his childhood friend, Beatrice. To meet those pitiful women just twice a year, he had sacrificed everything to protect the Empire.
Yet, despite hearing the news that the mother he so cherished had lost consciousness, he was strangely calm. Like a cold-blooded man who had nothing to do with it, or like someone who had foreseen this situation.
“Your Grace, I think you have learned one thing properly today. His Majesty was quite bored today.”
Today, Duke Ostain must have realized clearly that the Emperor was a being who could kill a person—let alone his half-brother—simply out of boredom. Having once died a miserable death, Peon watched Duke Ostain’s shock, shame, and anger in silence.
“You must live a long life, Your Grace.”
Peon glanced toward the corner. The woman who had been skulking over, bundled in a cloak too long for her to manage, was eavesdropping. He lowered his voice even further.
“You must live long for your daughter’s sake.”
For Kaella, Adeo had to be a reliable protector and her only paternal home. Peon knew all too well what kind of end Kaella had met because Adeo wasn’t there.
“And I will coordinate with the attendant who came earlier, so there will be no reprimands from His Majesty regarding the Lady’s presence in the Monster’s Garden.”
“Thank you. I am in your debt.”
Adeo didn’t know why the Grand Duke of Lyussenford was helping him and his daughter, but he kept his mouth shut, as he had his suspicions.
Everyone associated with the Imperial family was a sacrificial offering for the Emperor. Especially the Grand Duke of Lyussenford, who had been persistently and viciously tormented by the Emperor from birth until now.
“I heard Her Majesty the Empress has collapsed; are you alright?”
Adeo examined the young Grand Duke who had been struggling to survive amidst abuse since he was a small child. But he was no longer looking at Duke Ostain.
“I am fine. Your Grace, please excuse me for a moment.”
Peon turned back around the corner. Someone else had just appeared.
“Ah, Peon.”
The person who had been peering intently at the cloak covering Kaella, who was pretending to sleep, looked up and greeted him warmly.
Peon’s brow twitched involuntarily. Beatrice Lavalle was wearing her characteristic smile. She was the beauty of the century, with clear, lustrous silver hair and light pink eyes, and was Peon’s childhood friend. On the surface, she was a pure, shy, and polite young lady, setting every man’s heart aflame. Peon had also once mistaken her for love.
“I heard the news. What on earth should we do?”
Or rather, he had been brainwashed into mistaking it for love. Beatrice began to chatter, but Peon turned his gaze toward Kaella, who was pretending to sleep to hide the fact that she had been eavesdropping.
*I happened to see Lady Lavalle near the Aquitel Palace while I was coming over.*
He was the Empress’s son, and Kaella was Duke Ostain’s only daughter, so the two had often crossed paths since childhood. Peon had played with Kaella a lot. Kaella had also followed him around, seven years her senior, calling him ‘Oppa, Oppa.’ Now that she was a grown adult and they didn’t cross paths as often as when she was a child, he would concede to the formality of her tone.
*Why did she tell me to go to Beatrice?*
The child who never did such things had come running, clinging to him and begging desperately. To go to Lady Beatrice Lavalle, the lover of all, and go to her. To leave. The woman who was always tormented by Beatrice since she was a child, yet who never gave up and tried to smile in front of him, had told him to leave.
*You are a byproduct of infidelity, Hyperion. You are a filthy, mongrel dog that betrayed a vow that should never have been broken. You are rotten from birth! You don’t know the virtues of trust and loyalty!*
The words the Emperor would shout whenever he pointed his finger at the young Peon were, in the end, true. To prove that wasn’t the case, he had turned his back on Kaella in the name of keeping his loyalty to Beatrice, but he was that kind of creature by birth. He was already ruined, having walked straight to destruction, trapped in such flimsy brainwashing.
“Is Her Majesty the Empress alright? Peon, are you alright?”
Beatrice would worry about him deeply, and he would accept it, thinking that if she said a word, it was a good thing. There were moments when he thought, *this isn’t right*, but his clouded mind would swallow the poison he was fed and become even more obscured. Because she was his only friend, his first love, and his only ally, he could never utter the words that he wanted to quit. The existence of Peon had been controlled so that he would think that would be an act lacking trust, loyalty, and duty.
“Guard.”
Peon looked down coldly at Beatrice and called for the guard.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Why is an outsider entering the Altain Palace, where only the Imperial family can enter?”
Kaella, startled by the man’s deep, low voice, opened her tired eyes slightly.
“Do you not know etiquette, Lady Lavalle?”
Something that should never happen was happening. The cold, contemptuous expression and tone that had always been directed at Kaella were now directed at Beatrice Lavalle.
“Do you not know that those who are not of the Imperial family cannot freely enter the Altain Palace, that you must show proper respect to Duke Ostain and his daughter, and that you must watch your tongue, following the rules of the Imperial Palace governed by His Majesty?”
Kaella had never seen Beatrice Lavalle look so shocked. Her beautiful pink eyes widened, and her lovely cheeks turned pale. In a situation where everyone would naturally sympathize with the queen of the social circle, the Grand Duke of Lyussenford spoke without mercy.
“Guide this unauthorized person to the exit.”
“Yes, Your Grace. My apologies. This way, my Lady.”
“Pe… Peon.”
Peon. That name was a nickname Kaella had always wanted to call him, but it was a name she hadn’t been granted permission to use—and yet, it was a name Beatrice could say without a care.
“Lady Lavalle. You must leave. This way.”
The woman who was deeply envious of that, and felt miserable because she hadn’t been granted permission, watched vacantly as the flower of the social circle was forcibly dragged away. It was an unheard-of occurrence in high society.
“I apologize for showing you an unsightly scene, Your Grace. I’m sorry, Kaella.”
“It is fine. It is not your fault, is it?”
“It is not. For now, Kaella seems to be having a very hard time, so I think it would be better for her to rest separately.”
Kaella blinked, and then raised her hand high.
*You still haven’t come to your senses.*
Even with her father right in front of her, to still act so stupidly and pathetically.
*Slap!*
The sound of her striking her own cheek rang out loudly.