The green that once blanketed the Valent Kingdom burned away without a trace.

The rivers that shone like jewels cracked like the back of a tortoise and exposed their beds, with nothing above them but shimmering heat. Every time the wind blew, acrid ash and dust crossed the walls instead of rich soil and burrowed into people’s lungs.

The streets before the castle gates lost their life long ago. Exhausted by hunger, the people sat slumped along the roadside and stared blankly at the dust kicked up by the invaders’ boots. Even the children’s crying dried up, and only a strange silence hung over the place.

Leon’s footsteps rang sharp and cold across the parched earth as he made his way toward the castle. Dry soil crumbled and scattered beneath every step he took.

“Welcome, my lord.”

The soldier who secured the castle greeted Leon with a respectful bow. Leon gave a slight nod, perched on the edge of the desk in the office, and put a cigarette between his lips.

“So. Did you deal with the troublemakers?”

“We threw them in the prison for now, but their numbers keep swelling beyond control.”

“What exactly is the problem?”

Leon exhaled a long stream of smoke, and Hardt, who was leafing through documents, carefully spoke up.

“The king and queen were executed overnight, and the majority are resisting annexation into the Urcheka Empire. On top of that, this terrible drought is turning the people’s mood even uglier.”

“The prison is nearly bursting. Wouldn’t it be better to just haul them all off to the mines?”

Hardt let out a heavy sigh at the rough suggestion from Archer, who was stroking his beard.

“Turning every last citizen of the Valent Kingdom into an enemy is hardly a wise course of action.”

Leon cut through the sharp exchange between Archer and Hardt and slowly turned his back to them.

Standing at the window, he looked quietly down at Valent’s fields, now turned to desert. The desolate, ruined landscape looked exactly like his own twisted relationship with Adela.

‘Count Fershtein, crush the Valent Kingdom. Grant them the mercy of becoming part of the great Urcheka.’

It was the cold-blooded order Emperor Abarus gave before the campaign.

What the Emperor coveted was Valent’s territory and its mines, a strategically vital position. What Leon wanted was only the head of the king who ruled there.

Their interests aligned, and wherever the Emperor’s supplies and Leon’s blade reached, Valent’s walls crumbled like paper.

The war ended far too easily.

The problem came after.

The people, long soaked in peace, found the disgrace of being absorbed into Urcheka harder to bear than the fall of the royal family. If the unrest continued, it would clearly interfere with the efficient governance the Emperor wanted.

Two solutions came to Leon’s mind.

Suppress them by force, or win them over with the right reward.

Leon idly flicked the ash from his cigarette and spoke.

“How long would it take to bring in food supplies from the Empire?”

“At least two weeks.”

Leon raised one eyebrow slightly at Hardt’s answer.

It wasn’t that he feared the people. The boiling discontent simply grated on him.

Driving in the army and slaughtering them overnight would quiet the unrest, but too much blood already soaked this land. Further killing was not a particularly wise option when weighed against the efficiency of governance.

Just as he flicked away the ash, the office door opened and a maid stepped in carefully, delivering a message.

“My lord, Lady Adela is waiting outside. Shall I show her in?”

“Tell her I’m in a meeting and I’ll call for her later.”

Leon gave the dry order to send her away, and a look of distress crossed the maid’s face.

“Well… she says she has something she must convey.”

“……”

In his memory, Adela never once came to his office.

She was a woman who preferred a quiet walk along the lakeshore over the glittering center of high society, and loved the bustle of the marketplace more than the dark scheming of power.

Leon tilted his chin, the maid quickly withdrew, and Adela, who was waiting outside, appeared.

She wore a deep navy dress today, one that could hide the wound on her neck. The clean silhouette, without a single ornament, contrasted against her pale complexion and gave her an air that was almost unsettlingly sharp.

Leon’s eyes narrowed as he looked her over in the clothes he personally chose and sent for her that morning.

“What is it?”

Adela steadied her uneven breathing and opened her mouth.

“I hear the people of Valent are afraid of your army.”

“They can have their heads cut off at any moment, so isn’t it only natural they feel fear?”

Leon stood with his back to the window, murmuring low as he fixed his gaze on Adela’s neck. His flashing red eyes were fierce enough to look ready to bite into her throat at any moment.

Adela shook off her fear and straightened her back. Her whole body ached and her legs trembled, but she couldn’t let it show now.

“The drought is severe. Everyone would be on edge.”

“Even vagrants on the street know that much, so tell me your real reason for coming.”

Leon asked as he exhaled smoke. Instead of answering, Adela reached into her chest and pulled out a rolled piece of parchment, then handed it to Hardt.

“This is the location of a secret storehouse the late king left behind for emergencies.”

Leon’s brow furrowed deeply, and a cold current swept through the office. In the silence, Adela continued steadily.

“Inside are not only enough grains to relieve the immediate hunger, but also weapons and precious metals needed for war, piled high.”

“Forgive me… but may I ask why you are handing us information this important?”

Hardt passed the map he received to Leon and asked carefully.

“There is no other reason. I want to help the people of Valent who are collapsing from hunger.”

Leon listened to Adela’s calm answer, then told Archer and Hardt to step outside for a moment.

Soon the two of them were left alone in the office, and a dense silence settled between them. Leon stared at Adela, standing near the sofa, with unrelenting focus, while she kept her gaze only on the map in his hand.

“If you kept this hidden for yourself, it would have been a great help to you?”

Leon’s low voice spread through the office. Adela’s clasped hands trembled finely, but she still carefully stepped toward him.

“Jewels, money, none of that means anything to me.”

As Leon said, disposing of the contents of that storehouse might have been enough to buy a small kingdom.

But what Adela wanted now was something money could not buy.

Adela’s fingertips traced along her neck and found the hardened wound. When she woke before dawn, Leon was already gone, but a strong smell of medicine lingered near her neck.

He ravaged her until she fainted, yet apparently found the wound Ingram Kasvah left behind displeasing.

“Amusing.”

Adela ignored Leon’s cold scoff and drew closer to him.

“Saying money means nothing is an arrogant thing to say, something only a princess raised without want could claim.”

“You know that isn’t it.”

Adela finally reached him and took Leon’s scarred hand in hers. At her touch, blue veins rose sharply across the back of his hand.

She watched Leon for a full ten years at close range.

He knew better than anyone how precarious a life Valent’s only princess endured, despite her brilliant outward appearance.

Leon let out a short breath, shook her hand off, and asked.

“What do you want in return for handing this over?”

“I truly want nothing.”

Adela’s clear green eyes settled on him, and Leon’s brow drew even tighter as he rubbed the back of his hand where the veins still hadn’t calmed.

* * *

A little past noon, Adela prepared to go out for the first time in a long while. Leon said he would confirm the location himself.

Once, a very long time ago, he was someone who would have believed her even if she told him the sun rose in the west.

Thinking back on that, she felt strangely bitter.

‘Will he take a carriage, or ride a horse?’

She let out a sigh and looked around, and Leon, riding a gleaming black horse, came up beside her.

‘Surely he doesn’t mean to ride together?’

Before Adela could finish forming the thought, Leon’s large hand came into view.