“I believe I’ve told you countless times. Know your place and behave accordingly.”

The moment she stepped into her fiancé’s bedchamber, Larinne was frozen to the spot by the harsh command.

She came to an abrupt halt.

Through the heavy smoke drifting from the pheromone incense, she looked at the arrogant man standing before her. Her moss-green eyes settled on Seidon Varbel: the Emperor of the Great Eastern Empire and the Sun God. She raised her sleeve to cover her nose, struggling to keep the dizzying scent from clouding her thoughts.

Seidon Varbel — the Emperor of the Great Eastern Empire, a land devoted to the Sun God, and her betrothed.

He had always treated her this way.

“I wonder when you will finally learn where you stand.”

Seidon tilted the glass in his hand. The thick aloe juice spilled over the rim, dripping in heavy splashes onto the floor as the slippery, cloudy liquid escaped. It seemed a deliberate gesture, as if to say, ‘This is where you belong.’

The noblewomen gathered around him parted their crimson lips and licked the traces of aloe from his fingers. Warm, desire-laden breaths slipped past their lips, mingling with the soft, flirtatious laughter that filled the room.

“How cruel of you, Your Majesty. Even if Lady Larinne is a slave from a defeated nation, she must still possess some pride.”

“With what sense of security does she dare lift her chin and speak of pride? I fear her ignorance may one day stain Your Majesty’s illustrious name.”

The women were deeply intoxicated by the incense. They moved without restraint, their eyes unfocused and their dignity long forgotten. A hand that had started at his collarbone moved lower, sliding between his hardened thighs. The muscles in Seidon’s body tightened sharply.

“Your Majesty… you do not intend to see a noble heir of the imperial bloodline born from Lady Larinne, do you?”

As she persistently stroked the inside of his thigh, a woman whispered the question. Her long, pale fingers crept closer and closer to their target. With each inch, a vein rose along Seidon’s temple.

The incense burned hotter.

“Ah… Your Majesty, please answer.”

At last, the woman, who had been reduced to a creature ruled by appetite, crawled towards the emperor, pressing her flushed cheek against the object of her desire. The impatient emperor seized her slender neck and pulled her closer.

‘Was this truly why he summoned me here—to watch this?’

Although the obscene spectacle unfolded before her fiancé’s very eyes, Larinne endured the humiliation in silence. She had no wish to take part in the games of her betrothed and his lovers.

“Ha…”

Although he could feel another woman’s breath between his legs, his moss-green eyes remained fixed on Larinne. The corners of his eyes curved like a drawn bow.

“….”

She did not react.

This much, she could endure.

‘If I provoke him, only those around me will suffer.’

Some might ask whether she had no pride. But to her, protecting the people she cherished mattered far more than preserving wounded dignity.

“Of all people, why must Lady Larinne bear the Mark of Water? If not for the imperial prophecy…”

The woman between his thighs did not even finish her sentence before the emperor’s expression changed.

He seized the back of her neck with brutal force.

“Ugh!”

As her airway tightened, the drugged haze left her eyes at once. Realization dawned too late—her face drained of all color.

“Y-Your Majesty, I did not mean it that way—”

Once spoken, words could never be taken back.

Sadly, everyone in the dining room knew that this would be the last time they would see her.

The Imperial Prophecy: The Mark of Water.

Both were tied to the emperor’s deepest disgrace.

Seidon Varbel, an illegitimate son born to the late emperor’s favorite concubine, had seized the crown by staining his hands with his half-brother’s blood. He was now desperately seeking to have his succession recognized as legitimate by the Senate.

“Only the power of water can cleanse the blighted land. Only that power shall deliver the Empire from evil.”

The prophecy, passed down through generations of the imperial family, offered the simplest and swiftest way to establish legitimacy.

Unfortunately for Larinne, she was born with the Mark of Water.

From that moment on, she was stripped of her personal freedom and forced to become the emperor’s possession, against her will.

“I chose Larinne as my empress because she is the woman I love.”

Love?

Seidon’s shameless lie was not even laughable.

Even a stray dog on the street knew the emperor despised his fiancée.

‘If the Mark of Water had not appeared on me, you would have killed me twenty years ago—back when your mother picked me up from the river where I’d been discarded.’

She had been treated worse than a cherished hound.

She wanted to escape—escape this suffocating life.

“Your Majesty.”

Larinne exhaled deeply and walked calmly to the foot of Seidon’s bed.

Her steps were unsteady, as if she might fall apart at any moment. Dozens of hostile gazes bore down on her.

“Please annul our engagement.”

“Denied.”

The refusal came without a trace of hesitation. It tightened around her throat like a leash that would never break.

“Larinne Ontuevi.”

Seidon pushed the woman away, stood up and strode towards her. Seizing her delicate chin roughly, he forced her hand away from her nose.

Larinne hurriedly held her breath. Her slender shoulders trembled and rose and fell, and the sight stirred his appetite. He felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her pale nape.

“I believe I made it clear…”

His voice faded as he slowly inspected her as a man might an object he intended to possess.

The sight of her pure white hair and clear, translucent blue eyes stirred a dark urge within him and sent heat rushing through his body. His desire was unmistakable.

If he followed his impulses, he would have acted at once: claimed her; overpowered her; and taken what he wanted without restraint.

But it was not yet time.

Laying a hand on a woman bearing the Mark of Water before her coming-of-age ceremony would invite a terrible curse. Shielded by that protection, Larinne had evaded his grasp time and again.

‘But once you can no longer hide behind that shield, Larinne Ontuevi, it will be over.’

Her twentieth birthday was approaching. Once she had completed the coming-of-age ritual, the Water’s protection would weaken.

Seidon was counting the days.

“I believe I warned you not to become a dog that bites its master.”

Larinne’s blue eyes hardened at the warning in his voice, growing as cold and unyielding as the glaciers of the northern mountains.

Yes. A dog and its master.

That was exactly how he had treated her.

Throughout the years she had spent at Seidon’s side, she had never once been treated like a human being.

“Behave yourself. Once your twentieth birthday passes, we will hold your coming-of-age ceremony—and the wedding.”

He was not asking for permission.

He was informing her.

***

Larinne had no idea how she had managed to leave the Eastern Palace and walk all the way to the Grand Temple.

If it hadn’t been Saturday, she would have gone straight to her chambers and locked the door behind her.

But today was different.

She had promised to deliver the ‘escape funds’ to Pellet, a secret organisation of armed slave liberators formed by the Remenin people. They were her friends and comrades — no different from family.

By sheer force of will, Larinne suppressed everything that had happened that morning and continued walking.

The Grand Temple was where she was due to meet the informant.

Every Saturday, the Grand Temple of the Varbel Empire opened its doors to all citizens of the empire, offering mercy to those tainted by the curse of demonic beasts, as well as to those in need of divine power.

“Over here.”

As promised, the informant mingled with the patients.

Thanks to the Mark of Water, Larinne had an abundance of divine power, which she often used to visit the temple. Her presence aroused no suspicion.

“Please, sit here.”

She erased the flicker of relief from her face and treated the informant as though they were strangers meeting for the first time.

“What brings you here?”

“Ah, what else? I’ve been cursed, of course. Please purify me with your divine power! I delayed treatment for over half a month, and now it feels like my guts are being torn apart every night. I can hardly stand it!”

“Show me where you’ve been contaminated.”

Jeba, Pellet’s informant, obediently lifted her top.

Like the other priests, Larinne pretended to examine the condition of the curse. While doing so, she discreetly slipped a prepared pouch of money into their hand.

“Everyone’s doing well, aren’t they?”

Taking advantage of the surrounding noise and confusion, she lowered her voice to ask after the members of Pellet.

“Of course. They’re all holding on bravely, waiting for that day.”

“With the current food shortages, it must be even harder to find food.”

“Thanks to your help every week, no one’s gone hungry.”

At best, it would only cover the cost of one meal.

Due to the prolonged food shortage, food prices had skyrocketed. The money she siphoned off could not possibly provide three meals a day for more than thirty people.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t divert more funds.”

“Please don’t say that. Thanks to you, we were able to secure a smuggling ship—and weap*ns as well. Our lives are all owed to you.”

Even so, Larinne always carried a quiet guilt for them in her heart.

Sensing her unspoken feelings, Jeba clasped her hand tightly and forced a bright smile.

“Miss, you must take care of yourself as well until the day of escape.”

“I will. I want to see your daughter take her first steps with my own eyes, Uncle Jeba.”

“Our little girl has already learned to roll over. When you see her next time, you’ll be quite surprised.”

While speaking with him, she was able—if only briefly—to erase the events of that morning from her mind.

‘Yes. In two months, I’ll escape this wretched Varbel Empire with Pellet and return home.’

Just as she had steeled herself for the day of the operation that they had spent so long preparing for, the doors burst open. The captain of the Imperial Knights strode into the Grand Temple, clad in dark blue armor.

“By His Majesty’s decree, effective immediately, divine treatment is to be temporarily forbidden to those of Remenin descent!”

Larinne’s lips were bitten raw.

‘Ah… so you have finally done it.’

She knew exactly why the emperor, her fiancé, had suddenly given such an order.

It was just another way for him to control her.

Whenever he wanted to break her spirit, he would endanger the lives of her people.

Many nations had fallen under the rule of the Varbel Empire, yet the emperor treated the Remenin particularly cruelly.

Larinne was not heartless enough to abandon her loved ones.

The cunning emperor knew this and exploited her weakness mercilessly.

“And we have received a report that a rat has entered the temple today. All will cooperate with the search.”

A report? What report?

Without the slightest change in expression, the captain drew his sword and fixed his gaze on Jeba, who stood awkwardly beside Larinne.

“Drag that one out.”

“Stop this! What are you doing in a sacred place?”

“He may be plotting treason. His Majesty has ordered immediate execution.”

“I will speak to His Majesty myself. For now, sheath that sword. You may injure someone—”

Slash!

Before she could finish, the gleaming blade tore through the air.

Jeba collapsed to the floor, crumpling without strength.

‘No…’

Someone’s sharp scream struck Larinne’s heart like a hammer.

“Drag them all out—the Remenin!”

At the captain’s command, the knights began hauling the Remenin away by force.

“L-Lady Larinne! Please save us!”

Even as they were thrown out of the Grand Temple, they cried out her name.

Their desperate cries pierced her heart.

Larinne stood frozen to the spot, unable to draw a proper breath.