What Valentine had learned when she was beside the cruel tyrant, Astaire, was how to torment people in the most wicked ways. She had seen too much of how to make people fall to the depths of hell, despair, and wail miserably.

Ordinary humans knew the greatest despair when they lost what was most precious to them.

As she was slowly connecting her thoughts, it was then…

“Your Highness, the Prince!”

The voice of a maid calling out urgently was heard. In the dark night garden, near the fountain that defied the laws of nature and displayed itself to the sky, an innocent laugh rang out.

It was still the voice of a young child.

Valentine unconsciously turned her gaze.

The child’s golden curls shimmered in the moonlight. The eyes looking up at the maid were deep blue.

The child reached out his small hand to the maid. The maid who picked up the child smiled. Finally, it was a smile as if he owned the whole visible world.

Someone’s heart made a thudding sound and fell straight down. Inevitably trembling eyes followed the trajectory of the young child’s laughter.

Valentine clenched both her fists tightly.

“If it weren’t for that child…”

A voice that pierced the heart despite its calmness followed.

“Would my child have been alive?”

A mother who loses her offspring buries the lost life in her heart while shedding tears of blood. For Valentine, a child was reality built upon wailing. It was a fragment of life written with tears of blood.

But no matter how much she wailed, even if her bloody tears formed rivers, her dead child would not return. Valentine was the only one who had reversed the inevitable fate of death.

“Would it have been a son or a daughter?”

The shattered love and hope still shone miserably inside Valentine today. That which crumbled futilely without being reached even when she stretched out her hand.

“Would their eyes have been blue? Would they have been blonde? Would their skin have been fair? Would their voice have been clear…?”

“Are you curious?”

Lucifer asked indifferently.

How could she not be curious? The child was the light in hell. It was the only hope she had barely found at the end of terrible days.

Ironically, that brief time when the child had stayed was the greatest footprint that Valentine de le Blumir had left in this world as a human being.

“If you want, I’ll tell you.”

“…No need. What should I expect from you?”

Following Bastian with her gaze, Valentine suddenly realized.

Count Glastia, who pursued honor and cherished blood ties so much that he tried to cover up even his nephew’s crimes.

It wasn’t difficult to deduce what was most precious to Matthias de la Glastia.

‘It must be blood ties.’

Seeing how he spread his wicked delusions as rumors, it was certain.

‘Then his son.’

Young Count Glastia, Gwenael, who was famous for being a ruffian. Valentine’s small giggle split the darkness.

A decent prey.

* * *

They say someone who looks exactly like Valentine has appeared.

Thanks to that, the stigma that Madame Marguerite bore swept through Gabrienne once again.

In the first year of Cassian’s reign, the most widely known story in Sehera was that the tyrannical Astaire, who had plunged the empire into ruin, and the seductress Marguerite had died.

During that time, those two received all the world’s curses. Cassian I, who had driven out the two villains, received all the world’s praise.

Though things had quieted down as time passed, it was still too good a morsel to not come up in the mouths of gossipmongers.

Thus, soon after hearing the news, Liam rushed to Cassian.

“Your Majesty!”

“Duke Blumir.”

Unlike Liam’s urgency, Cassian was calm as always. It seemed as if no news in the world could shake Cassian.

Liam, his face pale, prostrated himself on the floor. His black hair, now grown even longer, became disheveled, and his piercing gaze trembled.

“I, I…”

“Why are you like this? Please rise.”

“I wanted to let Tina, my Valentine, rest in peace.”

The main point came out immediately without any pleasantries. And it was about a woman who would never disappear from both men’s hearts.

Cassian’s hand, which had gently gripped Liam’s shoulder, stiffened slightly. For a moment, complex emotions frosted over his eyes as he looked down at Liam blankly.

“Knowing that Tina couldn’t survive… Rather than seeing her die miserably, stoned by angry citizens, rather than watching her close her eyes wretchedly amid all sorts of shame and insults… I judged it better to let her go without pain.”

If it was a path that couldn’t be avoided anyway, Liam wanted to protect her end himself.

Cassian’s gaze moved heavily once. The blue light in his eyes briefly disappeared behind his eyelids.

“That was, that was my only love for Tina.”

“In Duke Blumir’s eyes, I must have seemed quite heartless.”

“Even if Your Majesty had wanted to keep her alive, who else would have wanted to keep that child alive?”

Cassian’s eyes were utterly indifferent as he looked down at Liam, who was pouring out his grief. By now, he had tucked away all his personal sentiments.

“The angry citizens? The nobles trampled by Astaire? Who in the world would have wanted Tina to open her eyes, breathe, and stride through Sehera?”

Liam’s words were right. That’s why Cassian had sent Liam to Valentine that day. Because he knew what choice Liam would make.

Cassian knew best what was the right thing to do.

If a child had been born, the situation might have been a little different. But in that situation, no matter what they do, Madame Marguerite couldn’t have survived. If Valentine, who had spread numerous infamies with Astaire, had survived, it would have been only half a revolution.

“But now… now you say she’s come back to life? A true witch risen from the grave? The daughter of a demon?”

The rumors that had spread so quickly spilled from Liam’s lips. Liam’s body trembled, angered beyond necessity.

Clenching his fists tightly, Liam barely caught his breath. Now there was no reason to live on Gabrienne hearing such talk.

“Your Majesty, please tell me where Valentine is now. I will take her back to Blumir. Let her rest beside her deceased parents.”

Among Liam’s rather roughly poured out words, there was something Cassian couldn’t clearly understand.

“What did you say?”

“I dare say this. Please don’t kill Valentine… that poor child, twice.”

“No, I understand Duke Blumir’s intentions regarding Belle. But before that.”

Cassian privately furrowed his brow.

“Belle rests beside Astaire. Why do you ask me about something everyone knows?”

That’s right.

What Cassian couldn’t understand was that. He had clearly ordered Count Glastia, and it had been carried out accordingly.

The reason he specifically ordered Count Glastia was because Count Glastia would faithfully take care of Astaire, his blood relative. Valentine needed to lie beside Astaire so that Cassian could also place a lily on Valentine’s grave under the pretext of his nephew.

“Your Majesty!”

Liam let out a convulsive shout. The words ‘stop lying’ pushed up to his throat.

The only reason he didn’t spit out those disrespectful words was because reason still existed within Liam.

Liam barely caught his breath. His angry shoulders heaved.

“…Have you forgotten? You, with your own hands, disposed of her directly.”

“I…”

A low voice rang out coldly.

“Are you saying that I personally handled Belle’s corpse?”

Liam suddenly raised his head sharply. He looked up at Cassian.

He had been Cassian’s right-hand man for over ten years. But he had never seen such a cold, utterly warmthless face before.

“Who spread such lies?”

At the voice that struck down like lightning, Liam looked up at Cassian in bewilderment. Thanks to this, Liam could easily understand how things had turned out.

It was insubordination.

‘……’

Many people praised Cassian as gentle. Liam agreed. Usually, Cassian Pendragon boasted a gentle personality as soft as his appearance that was like a spring breeze.

But that gentleness was not mercy extended to those who crossed the line. It was leisure that could be shown because people quietly listened to and followed his words.

This matter was not something Cassian, who was an imperial to his bones, would let slide.

“Count Glastia said so.”

“Count Glastia, you say.”

Cassian’s eyes sank.

Everyone knew that Count Glastia hated Valentine. He habitually blamed Valentine for Astaire’s downfall.

The nobles who had experienced Astaire scoffed and laughed at Count Glastia’s instigation.

However, those who had recently come to Gabrienne, or young nobles who had just entered the palace and were ignorant of the world, nodded with interest upon hearing Count Glastia’s words.

Tyrants in history are always followed by villainesses. Astaire III and Madame Marguerite were the subjects of that history. Events not even five years old still stimulated everyone’s ears, and ears wet with stimulation moistened tongues with interest.

The young nobles who listened to Count Glastia’s words would pass on the stories they heard for generations.

That Madame Marguerite was by the side of the tyrant Astaire, and that Madame Marguerite was the mastermind behind all evil deeds. That Astaire, captivated by Madame Marguerite, was merely a foolish man in love.