“His Majesty is waiting over there.”

When Larinne arrived at the Western Palace in her formal attire, the attendants guided her towards the Emperor.

A pair of unwelcoming green eyes fell upon her.

With her hair neatly braided and adorned with a golden diadem featuring a cobra, and wearing a pure white gown, she resembled a sacred goddess.

“I hear rumors that the envoy from Lirmen visits you quite frequently. But it seems you haven’t been sleeping with him after all.”

After scrutinizing Larinne from head to toe, Seidon delivered his mocking assessment. Though she knew it was blatant ridicule, she responded calmly instead.

“When drawing a bowstring, shouldn’t one first consider the direction of the wind?”

No matter how much you accuse me, you will only end up shooting yourself in the foot. That was the meaning behind her words.

Judging by his fiancé’s expression, he seemed to grasp the implication instantly.

“Do you think a wretch like you stands on equal footing with me?”

“The imperial etiquette manual that Your Majesty cherishes so dearly states that the empress is the emperor’s shadow. Even the youngest daughter in Count Lantein’s household would know who an arrow aimed at that shadow is truly aimed at.”

Even a nine-year-old child who had not yet completed their noble education would understand that.

An insult directed at the empress was an insult directed at the imperial family — and, ultimately, at the emperor himself.

She had never once wished to become empress.

Yet, seeing Seidon’s face twisted with anger at that moment, she felt oddly satisfied with the bond that tied her to that title.

“You speak too freely for someone in your position.”

“If you detest standing on the same level as someone of such lowly blood, then you may revoke the engagement.”

Thin veins bulged around Seidon’s dark green pupils.

Consumed by anger, he grabbed Larinne’s chin harshly out of habit.

“Perhaps I’ve been too kind to you lately. It seems you’ve become an insolent dog that doesn’t even recognize its master.”

She would usually have endured it without hesitation. But the fever that had plagued her since the morning had weakened her.

Her neatly composed eyebrows faltered.

Seidon was not the kind of man to overlook weakness.

Curling his lips in satisfaction, he deliberately tightened his grip on her chin.

“Ah—”

A pained sound escaped her crimson lips.

Exactly what Seidon had wanted.

Seeing her frowning in pain gave him a strange sense of conquest.

It made him want to further mar her pale face and make her cry.

Her fiancé, who was hers in name only, had already noticed that Larinne was unwell. Yet he relished the situation, indulging his vulgar tastes.

Pressing his rough thumb against her delicate lips, he muttered.

“Bring me information about the griffins used as war mounts in the Kingdom of Lirmen. And don’t even think about trying to be clever. If you disobey me again, I’ll tear your maid’s tongue out by the root.”

Seidon grabbed Larinne’s wrist and dragged her along.

Her unsteady body was pulled forward by his brute strength, sweeping her into the banquet hall, which shimmered with golden light.

***

His lord could be truly unreasonable—ordering him to search this enormous palace blindly for a slave contract.

Harry sighed as he slipped out of the western wing where the banquet hall was located, blending in among the servants carrying food and wine.

“The East Palace is empty, but the security will be tight. It’ll be easier to approach through the servants’ passages.”

His lord had been right.

After the emperor and his fiancée left for the banquet hall, there was a noticeable increase in the number of guards.

Soldiers from the Zhakan forces, wearing black armor, not only blocked the entrances to the East Palace, but also every window.

‘So the information was true… that the slave contracts binding the minority tribes are kept in the imperial secret archive.’

After quickly estimating the number of Zhakan soldiers, Harry headed straight for the kitchens, where food was being prepared.

The place looked like a battlefield.

The imperial head chef was shouting orders constantly while frying food in two or three frying pans over the flames, and servants were hurrying about carrying finished dishes.

“Hey! Why are you just standing there? Get those dishes out before they go cold!”

Someone shouted at Harry.

Without hesitating, he picked up a plate of pita bread, which was unlikely to smell strongly.

During banquets, many temporary workers were brought in from outside the palace to assist the regular servants.

Because of that, no one paid him any particular attention.

“Everyone, move quickly!”

Harry slipped out of the bustling kitchen with ease and soon reached the central underground corridor.

The passage branched into four directions, each connecting to a different palace wing.

‘Fortunately, the layout hasn’t changed from what His Grace remembers.’

As Harry observed the surroundings and prepared to head toward the corridor leading to the Eastern Palace, a suspicious figure caught his eye.

‘Isn’t that woman Lady Larinne’s attendant?’

Harry was thoroughly familiar with the people belonging to the imperial palace.

He even remembered that her name was Chardi.

‘Where is she going?’

Normally, during a grand banquet like today’s, the personal maid responsible for attending the empress would remain by her side.

Yet here she was, heading down a back passage alone.

And she kept glancing around far too cautiously.

‘Very suspicious.’

Harry turned around and followed Chardi.

For some reason, he felt an overwhelming urge to do so.

He had always had sharp instincts.

If the news concerned Larinne, his lord would surely welcome it. It wasn’t a wasted effort.

Suppressing his presence, he walked quietly along the long corridor.

Before long, they reached a narrow passageway from which another woman suddenly appeared.

‘Who is that?’

Harry didn’t recognize her.

This meant that she was not an employee of the Imperial Palace.

As if they had arranged the meeting in advance, the woman took the bundle that Chardi handed over.

Harry immediately knew what was being exchanged from the scent carried on the breeze.

“Please tell her thank you. Thanks to this, all twenty-five Lemen people will be able to survive for three or four more days.”

‘Lemen people?’

To Harry, hearing that phrase was like touching a dragon’s throat.

Before he could think rationally, the words slipped out of his mouth.

He felt as though he had become a piece of iron drawn to a magnet.

“So you’re bold enough to steal from the imperial household.”

“!”

Startled by his sudden appearance, both women stumbled backward.

“W-Why is a member of the Gurmen Kingdom’s delegation here?”

So she wasn’t a foolish maid after all.

At the very least, she had decent perception.

Harry stared directly at Chardi, who had recognized him.

“Your sharp eye deserves praise. But doing something that will put your mistress in danger isn’t exactly wise.”

“O-Our Lady Larinne has done nothing wrong.”

The other woman—having realized that Harry was also Lemen—immediately dropped flat to the ground.

A faint scent drifted toward him.

‘Gunpowder.’

Harry’s expression hardened.

“Was this done under Lady Larinne’s direct orders?”

“It’s just… she only did this for our sake. The famine has become so severe that we have nothing left to eat or drink. Adults can endure it, but children and pregnant women cannot.”

“Marie!”

Chardi looked anxious as Marie spoke so freely. But Marie herself held an inexplicable trust toward Harry.

‘Foolish. Truly foolish.’

Blind faith inevitably invites betrayal.

A memory of the past that Harry wished he could forget came to mind, sweeping him up in a wave of emotion.

He took off the gold bracelet and gave it to Marie.

“Sell it. It’s a specialty from the Kingdom of Gurmen—you’ll be able to eat and drink comfortably for at least a month.”

“I cannot accept something so valuable.”

“Keep it. Even if you smuggle food out every day, it will only fill your stomach for a day or two at most.”

He knew this behavior was unlike him, yet his lips refused to stop moving.

“But—”

“Have you even thought about what would have happened if it hadn’t been me who caught you today? If you were dragged away, beaten, and then released, you’d be lucky. But if you fell into the hands of someone less forgiving, you might never see your family again. You might be sold into slavery somewhere far beyond the border. Just like my brother… and me.”

He swallowed the rest of those words along with his clenched fist.

“I don’t particularly enjoy helping others. But as you said, children and pregnant women must be fed, don’t they?’ Keep it. It’s nothing more than a meaningless ornament to me anyway.”

Having spoken with cold sarcasm, Harry turned away without waiting for a reply.

Looking at naïve Lemen people made him feel sick.

***

The welcoming banquet for the delegation was a lavish display of the Empire’s power.

Twelve star-shaped lanterns hung from the ceiling, shining brilliantly.

Below, golden candlesticks inlaid with glass fragments transformed the banquet tables into a glittering Milky Way.

At the lowest level, the Emperor’s favorite incense burned, its fragrant haze drifting around the guests’ ankles.

In that shimmering hall, Larinne could barely stand.

‘I’m dizzy.’

Her body burned as if she had swallowed the sun itself. She felt an overwhelming urge to release the mysterious heat that clouded her mind.

It felt like an extension of the companion dream.

Again and again, an inexplicable impulse tried to conquer her reason.

‘I need… to get a hold of myself.’

She bit her lip tightly and forced strength into her legs. All around her were piranhas eager to tear her apart with criticism.

‘I need to find Duke Libehi Winterd first.’

The moment she thought of him, her breathing quickened as though she had just run a long way.

She felt as though even the slightest touch would cause her to melt and collapse.

She needed to see him immediately.

His presence filled her entire field of vision.

In her flushed mind, instinct cried out.

This was the limit he had spoken of.

Among the hundreds of eyes watching her, Larinne immediately spotted the most dangerous gaze.

The moment their eyes met, an unbearable thirst surged through her.

“Libehi Winterd.”

Larinne did not realize that she had spoken aloud.

All she could feel was the burning dryness in her throat and her desperate need to quench it — to drink deeply and swallow.

Libehi Winterd.

Duke Winterd.

Ah, Libehi.

As though his name were a spring capable of easing her thirst, she rolled it over and over in her mouth as she walked towards him.

When she finally stepped into the shadow of his presence, she saw that the man’s cheeks were flushed too.

“You endured for a long time.”

His voice sounded wild, as though it might lose control at any moment; yet the hand he extended to her was perfectly courteous.

Without hesitation, Larinne took it.