It was the first time she felt overwhelmed by her son’s aura.

Isabella’s eyes quivered delicately. Caught between threats and persuasion, she chose a tearful plea upon hearing Owen’s suppressed groans.

“I tried to kill Melissa because you were hurting!”

Isabella wailed, abandoning her imperial dignity to speak purely as a mother.

“I couldn’t sleep peacefully for a single day, terrified that my son might die writhing in pain all night because of the brand.”

“…”

“Even knowing it was nonsense, I spent countless nights alone debating whether to kill her or bring her to your arms, contemplating it a thousand times! Do you… know a mother’s heart like that?”

Her voice trembled while tears streamed down the Empress’s cheek.

What began as a calculated outburst transformed into an uncontrollable release of long-suppressed frustration.

“Don’t you know the Emperor was engaged to noble ladies three times in his youth, and all ended in death? Yet when everyone in the palace knew the Emperor was a s*xual deviant, who would offer their precious daughter…!”

“Mother.”

“Only my father offered me. He sacrificed me like an offering to that filthy man!”

Isabella’s engagement to the Emperor came at sixteen during her social debut, with marriage following the next spring.

Her father climbed to a high position by trading his beautiful silver-haired daughter, while the naive young lady wore a pure white wedding dress.

During her walk with the bouquet, Isabella sensed something peculiar in people’s gazes. Rather than blessing, their eyes held pity…

The reason only became clear after marriage.

“After marriage, I discovered the Emperor had six illegitimate children. From the first night, he was a shameless man who abandoned our bedroom to lie in the arms of whores!”

Isabella abandoned hope of her husband’s love from day one. Left alone in the bedroom, she coupled with the Emperor at her father’s insistence but retched from disgust every night.

She grabbed Selheim’s clothes and collapsed.

“After enduring that revolting process, I tried so hard to save you both! I dedicated my entire life!”

“Stop, Mother.”

The strength drained from Selheim’s hands. Owen fell face-down on the floor, repeatedly coughing with his reddened face, seemingly about to vomit.

Selheim glanced at his clothes gripped by the Empress and sighed. He ran his dry hand over his face and released a hollow laugh.

“I know how much you suffered, Mother. Because I know…”

His voice caught while he bent his knee to help the Empress up. He gently wiped her tears with his fingers and spoke.

“Because I know, I’ve forgiven everything you’ve done until now.”

Selheim pressed his lips to the back of her hand and embraced the weeping Empress. His hand stroked the back of his mother in his arms.

“Because I know, I tried to fill the void of affection.”

“…”

“Because I know, I’ve matched my pace until now so you could enjoy your position longer without ascending to the throne. Because if I take the throne, you’ll have to step back.”

The Empress’s hands shook in Selheim’s embrace. The woman clutching his clothes dissolved into tears against his chest.

“Who else would dare touch the Empress like this? Only I can. You’re human too—how lonely and difficult it must have been without anyone to hold your hand.”

Isabella completely broke down at those words. She clung to her son, crying without pause for breath.

Selheim held his collapsed mother firmly in his arms. His voice grew increasingly tense.

“I understand. Because I understand it all, I didn’t want to wastefully take away your flowering time, so I tried to remain second-in-command for a long time without killing that man, that’s what I did!”

Anger rippled through his voice like waves.

Veins protruded on Selheim’s neck, and seeing this, the Empress shook her head.

“No, no.”

She appeared to be trying to halt whatever thoughts consumed him. The Empress shook her head and clutched Selheim’s clothes as she rose.

“No, no, my child. You must be careful. You must be careful!”

He bit his lip while restraining his boiling emotions. After handing the crying Empress to a knight, Selheim moistened his dry lips and smiled faintly.

In contrast to his agitated state, his unnaturally peaceful gaze coldly swept across the Empress’s face.

“Take the Empress to a safe place.”

The moment Selheim’s order fell, soldiers surrounded the area. The knights especially loyal to the Empress had already been beheaded on their way.

After the Empress was dragged away, Owen, who had been coughing face-down on the floor, spat out phlegm with a harsh sound. Yellow phlegm mixed with blood stretched in a sticky trail before Selheim’s shoe tip.

When Selheim looked down at the floor, his eyes met Owen’s. Owen’s laughter resembled a hyena before a lion.

“My, my.”

Selheim spoke with sympathetic eyes.

“I’ll have to correct my siblings’ manners.”

* * *

Summer brought ear-splitting cicada sounds. Unlike the mild summers in Miellin, the capital’s heat was fierce.

A protest erupted in the midday heat where merely standing for ten minutes under the blazing sun would drench one in sweat. Despite being soaked, the protesters maintained their confrontation with the imperial army.

“Abolish the aristocratic laws!”

“Down with the royal family that considers commoners’ lives worth less than dogs!”

Reporters from newspaper companies covering the event huddled in clusters under the shade of trees in the square, exhausted from lugging their huge cameras.

Cooling themselves with fans, they breathed in dust that lingered even through the heat haze.

“My, aren’t these people hot…”

The dry earth smell was so sharp it stung their eyes. The imperial army charged into the square on horseback, striking protesters’ heads with clubs.

The cavalry dispatched for suppression consisted mostly of noble soldiers. Knowing they wouldn’t face punishment for killing commoners, they confronted the protesters directly, wielding shields and clubs.

Blood and sweat, dust and cicada sounds.

“Retreat! Everyone retreat, you bastards!”

Revolutionary soldiers blended among the protesters shouted. One was the military school teacher present during Sion’s torture. The man, bearing a fierce look and a scarred eye, promptly dispersed the protesters and returned to the underground base, sending a messenger pigeon while drenched in sweat.

The pigeon soared through the blue sky and landed on the hotel balcony railing in Glinford.

While the plump pigeon pecked at food hung on the railing, Florence untied and examined the note from its leg.

“We need to hurry with the weapons supply. The imperial military power has shifted to the Crown Prince’s hands, and nobles will move their private armies from various regions to support him as Emperor.”

Erich, masquerading as a noble hotel guest, approached in neat attire and received the note.

He read it with anxious eyes, breaking into a cold sweat.

“Are they planning to start a civil war?”

“Either make the Emperor step down from the throne himself or…”

“They plan to kill him.”

Having understood the Crown Prince’s intentions, Erich rushed from the hotel to inform Reizen.

Florence watched the approaching dark clouds and Erich’s retreating figure.

“Hey. You’ll have to come inside to eat, you.”

She stepped back from the window, extending her hand toward the pigeon.

“Come here, quickly.”

The woman brought the pigeon and feed container inside, closing the window.

The angry sea prepared to raise waves. The sea wind grew increasingly fierce, suggesting an approaching typhoon, while occasional surges rose in the gray sea.

Large raindrops fell with heavy plops, heralding the height of summer. Plop, plop plop. While raindrops painted the ground black, a huge merchant ship emerged in the distance.

Arthur’s merchant ship bellowed like a whale.

That ship’s horn would soon reach Miellin Castle, merely two hours away by carriage.

The castle’s atmosphere felt strangely quiet yet busy. Before the rain, a humid, uncomfortable, and heavy air persisted.

Reizen had left the castle early in the morning.

True to form, no one knew his destination. When she woke, the bed beside her was empty, and Melissa, feeling unwell, called for the physician.

But the response was…

“Doctor Horrux left the castle this morning.”

“Left?”

Had he suddenly packed and departed without even saying goodbye?

At Melissa’s question, Mrs. Hover nodded, unable to conceal her perplexed expression.

“We were surprised too. He must have packed and left hurriedly at dawn, as his room was in disarray. The Prince’s knights haven’t been seen since morning either…”