***

A mad empress and an emperor madly in love with her – what a great combination. Cyrene choked back the laughter that threatened to break out.

‘It took longer than I thought.’

Despite his merciless killing and tyrannical rule, it had taken five long, terrible years to reach this moment.

Outside, the chaos of war continued. The clash of weapons and the blood-curdling screams of the dying filled the air. Cyrene turned her eyes to Areos, who stood clutching his sword.

“Your Majesty, you must retreat!” a loyal knight called to him urgently.

For a moment she felt a pang of regret.

‘I should have killed that one first.’

Unfortunately, the knight’s unwavering loyalty to the Emperor was so strong that he was one of the few who managed to ignore her completely.

“Where would we go if we left this place?”

Cyrene asked, her voice calm but resigned.

“…….”

“Better to die here.”

The rebels had already taken control of almost everything. Most of the nobles had sided with the rebels, and only a handful of knights remained loyal to the Emperor.

“Mommy…”

A small voice cried out as the child clung to the hem of Cyrene’s dress. Wide, innocent eyes filled with fear stared up at her.

“Cyrene, if I die, you must die.”

Areos whispered with a look of madness.

“If Your Majesty dies, I will gladly follow you in death.”

“Shall I kill you first?” he muttered, gripping her hair tightly before bursting into a maniacal laugh.

Everyone in the room knew that death was inevitable. The only question was whether they would die captured and executed, or die fighting. Either way, it was clear that neither Areos nor Cyrene would survive the day.

“Your Majesty, you must retreat…”

“Enough.”

He locked eyes with Cyrene, his grip tightening painfully around her wrist.

“If you come with me, I might be all right.”

She had no intention of leaving with him, but if his death was certain, that was enough for her.

‘Who would I meet in death?’

Cyrene wondered with a faint smile.

“We can’t leave here alive.”

“I know.”

Hadn’t they piled up countless corpses hoping for this moment? She smiled beautifully.

“If you survive, your beauty will surely enchant others.”

“If you wish to kill me, go ahead, Your Majesty.”

Areos raised his sword. The silver blade glittered sharply and the child gasped audibly. Cyrene stood still, waiting for his decision. Whether he killed her or spared her, it didn’t matter.

If he killed her, he would carry the memory of her death with him until the day he died. If he didn’t, the thought of her living on after his death would haunt him to his grave.

A faint smile played on her lips. Areos seemed to understand as well. He hesitated for a long moment before finally lowering his sword.

“Your Majesty!”

A frantic voice echoed as the door was forced open. The rebels, already drenched in blood, poured into the room like a flood.

Though skilled knights stood in defence, they couldn’t withstand the sheer number of enemies. What followed was less a battle than a massacre. Areos cut down dozens, but blades struck him in return, slowing his movements more and more.

“Kill him!”

Someone shouted in a hateful voice, and the air erupted with cries of vengeance against the Emperor. Sharp weapons swung at Areos and his body was ripped apart mercilessly.

“Cyrene!”

His hoarse cry echoed through the hall, as if commanding her to keep her promise to die with him. It was his last word.

Just as before, his gaze remained fixed on her until the very end.

‘Ah…’

Cyrene smiled weakly. She had seen it before in a dream – the face of Areos as he lay dying. She never thought she would see it again. Instead of screaming, she just smiled.

“A… daddy…”

The trembling voice of the child came from behind her as they tried to hide, her small body shaking with fear. She didn’t care anymore.

“It’s the Empress!”

Someone shouted, drawing the attention of the assembled rebels. All eyes turned to her. For a moment, the chaos of the battlefield was replaced by an unnatural stillness, a silence that filled the hall. Cyrene smiled more beautifully than ever.

No one moved. No one called for her execution. In that suffocating silence, where even breathing seemed to have stopped, Cyrene was the only one who acted.

Silently, with a serene smile, she stepped forward and threw herself at the blade of the nearest rebel.

She felt no pain.

***

“What do we do with this child?”

Asked the blood-soaked man, his gaze falling on the girl, who stepped back quietly. Despite losing her parents before her eyes, she seemed remarkably calm, though her pale face betrayed the shock she felt.

“If she’s inherited her mother’s beauty, she’s bound to be a source of trouble.”

“But we can’t kill her, can we? She’s just a child…”

The girl blinked. Though young, it was clear to anyone who looked at her that she would grow up to be breathtakingly beautiful. After all, she carried the blood of Creusa, famous for her extraordinary beauty, inherited directly from Cyrene.

The man’s lips parted, but no words came out.

Her tear-filled eyes sparkled, and the words to end her life refused to leave his lips. Instead, he silently held out his hand.

“Will you come with me?”

The child hesitated, wary of him at first, but realising there was no other option, she slowly stepped forward and took his bloodied hand. The man lifted her gently into his arms.

Her platinum hair, so reminiscent of Cyrene and Creusa, shimmered as it fluttered in the wind.

– The End –