“You pathetic b*tch.”

The one who entered after opening the door was Iden.

“You couldn’t even carry out a simple order, and the moment you wake up, you start screaming for that d*mn bastard?”

His eyes, which were sharp to begin with, narrowed viciously and brimmed with hostility.

The moment Selina saw him, she knew what was happening. She had been brought back to the Marquis’s estate.

Someone had dragged her back to this place — this living nightmare from which she had never escaped.

“Watch your mouth. There’s no bigger bastard than you. Now tell me where Calix is—!”

Smack!

Her words were cut off mid-sentence.

Furious at her half-sister, who had gone from crawling to outright lashing out, Iden struck her without hesitation.

“So you’ve been running with a pack of dogs for so long that you’ve lost all sense? Fine. It’s been a while—seems you’re due for another proper lesson—”

Selina was afraid of Iden.

To her, Iden was like an even more merciless version of the marquis.

“Answer my question first.”

Now, though, it didn’t matter if he slapped her dozens of times or kicked her until she couldn’t stand. Selina was no longer in her right mind.

Nothing terrified her more than the prospect of Calix’s death.

“What happened to Calix?”

She grabbed Iden by the collar.

It was shocking—how such strength could come from her frail body. Her grip was iron-tight.

‘Has she finally gone mad?’

Iden took a step back involuntarily.

Selina’s eyes, which had always been meek and subdued, now burned with a madness usually seen in someone on the verge of something.

Without thinking, he pulled something out and threw it onto the floor.

“If you’re that desperate to know, then see it with your own eyes!”

His pride wouldn’t allow him to tell her outright. This was the only compromise he could accept.

Selina hurriedly picked up the object that had fallen to the ground.

“Ah…”

It was a handkerchief.

She had given it to Calix before he left for the border, praying for his safety. She had given it to him in the hope that he would always be with her. Now it was soaked in blood, a vivid red.

A broken sound escaped her throat. Clutching the handkerchief, Selina collapsed to the floor.

Iden watched her crumble with evident satisfaction and muttered,

“That’s all that remains of your husband. They say everything else was burned with the body—nothing left behind, not even a trace.”

Iden had always seen Calix as a thorn in his side.

Of course, he had never taken part in the war or harmed Iden directly. Yet, from the moment they first met, Iden had despised him. He loathed the way the grand duke of the insignificant country of Thalia carried himself as though he were the sun itself. He hated the way Calix always acted as though he could see several steps ahead of everyone else.

But what Iden hated most of all was that Calix was married to Selina, his half-sister.

The girl who had once trembled in fear before her older brother now acted as though she had forgotten her place since marrying Calix.

‘You’ll never be allowed to be happy.’

Iden ground his teeth.

The Marquis had not been a good father to either Iden or his mother, but he had not been cruel to them either. Nevertheless, fathering a child elsewhere was a different matter entirely.

The fact that Selina was illegitimate had completely shattered Iden’s worldview: the idea that his father was a great, high-standing man within the Empire, and that he himself had been born into a perfect, unblemished household, had been destroyed.

She should never have stepped into the sunlight.

She should have remained hidden in the shadows, fading away so that no one would ever know she had existed.

Yet this incident had dragged her into the open, and Iden found that unbearable.

But now, even that was over.

Iden grabbed Selina by the hair as she lay collapsed on the floor and demanded.

“Now that the man who shielded you is dead, what do you think will happen to you next?”

“…Calix isn’t dead.”

And yet—how strange.

The eyes he had expected to be completely lifeless were still glowing with light. Selina clutched the handkerchief and screamed hoarsely at him.

“You didn’t see Calix die with your own eyes. You said there were no remains. So how can you be sure he’s dead?”

She did not believe Calix was dead.

No—she could not believe it.

He was a man who had emerged unscathed from encounters with monsters far more terrifying than the Imperial army. He was a man who recovered quickly, no matter how badly wounded he was.

This time would be no different.

Given enough time, he would return alive and unharmed.

That was what she believed.

But—

“I didn’t expect you to wake up so soon.”

Selina clenched her teeth at the sound of the voice that followed.

A large, dark shadow fell over Iden’s back. The man standing there, with hair as black as the night sky, was Waldemar.

The image of him standing on a snow-covered mountain flashed through her mind, and she felt as though all the blood in her body had rushed backwards at once.

“You know.”

Selina said, striding straight toward him.

“So tell me. Where is Calix?”

Waldemar’s lips curved upward at an angle. The way he made no effort to hide the malice beneath that smile sent a chill through her—just before—

“If that is truly what you desire.”

He extended a small sack he had been dangling from one hand.

Something was inside.

“Why don’t you open it?”

Waldemar spoke calmly and smiled as though nothing were amiss. However, the ominous air surrounding that smile made Selina’s hands tremble involuntarily.

She knew she had to open it.

And yet, at the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to do so.

With trembling hands, she slowly loosened the opening of the sack and reached inside. The moment she grasped its shape, something crumbled beneath her fingertips.

“!!”

She cried out in shock and dropped the sack.

As it hit the floor, its contents spilled out.

Charred black and barely recognizable, it was a hand.

It was a severed hand, cut cleanly at the wrist — large, with thick joints and long fingers.

But Selina didn’t recognize it.

No — that couldn’t be.

She shook her head violently and stumbled backwards.

“You were so desperate to know—why can’t you look properly now?”

Still smiling, Waldemar bent down to meet her gaze. Picking up her fallen hand, he swung it idly back and forth between his thumb and forefinger as he spoke.

“Is it that hard to believe that the owner of this hand was once your husband?”

“Th—that’s a lie…”

It couldn’t be true.

This had to be a fabrication—something staged to deceive her.

Her mind clung desperately to that thought, over and over again, yet her voice trembled uncontrollably.

‘This… is Calix?’
‘Calix reduced to ashes?’

Did that mean Calix had truly—

—died?

“That’s impossible. Calix would never—”

“He’s dead.”

Waldemar dropped the charred hand to the floor without mercy—and ground it beneath his boot.

That memory was the last thing Selina recalled before she lost consciousness.

***

Three years had passed since Thalia began its descent into ruin.

The Grand Ducal Castle had fallen to the Imperial Army, as had countless other fortresses. Nevertheless, pockets of resistance remained — forces that had yet to surrender.

No one knew exactly how many there were, but one thing was certain: because of them, the Empire was still struggling to conquer Thalia.

Having been thwarted for a long time by Thalia’s impregnable defenses, the Imperial Army finally began to see tangible results when the winds turned cold in late autumn.

“Visalante Castle has finally raised the white flag!”

After months of resistance, the fortress finally surrendered.

It was a vital stronghold and a key gateway to eastern Thalia. It was also a military choke point and a region abundant in food supplies.

“With this secured, Thalia is as good as conquered!”

The soldiers, having endured the long siege, laughed and joked with each other as though they had already taken the castle.

“Bring in all remaining stragglers inside the walls.”

The order came from a woman whose expression was as cold as winter frost.

She wore a black military uniform. Her silver hair fell around her shoulders like moonlight, and her eyes were a deep violet, like the night sky.

Yet the light within those eyes was dead. Darker than any shadow.

The one issuing commands was Selina Ilios Axell.

“Most have already fled. Those left behind are all the elderly and the weak.”

It seemed that the Lord of Visalante had not been particularly benevolent, abandoning the weak and fleeing alone.

Selina lowered her cold gaze and surveyed those who remained.

Under her chilling stare, they all averted their eyes and bowed their heads to the ground.

All except one boy.

He glared back at her, his eyes blazing with defiance. His violet eyes held her attention, stopping her in her tracks. As Selina regarded the child with faint curiosity, a younger girl — presumably his sister — tugged urgently at his sleeve, as if begging him to stop.

But the boy, unable to endure it any longer, muttered under his breath.

“You ungrateful, shameless b*tch!”

With that, he spat at Selina. Ptoo! The saliva fell weakly to the ground, never coming close to her. Nevertheless, the boy’s insolent behavior immediately earned him a stern look.

“Fine. Go ahead—kill me! The Thalians who died because of you could pile into mountains and rivers—!”

Smack!

In that instant, Selina slapped the boy hard across the face. The sound of her slapping his face echoed through the air as she continued to hit him.

“Ugh….”

Despite being hit so many times, the fire in the boy’s eyes did not dim. The only mercy was that he finally closed his mouth, seemingly unwilling to risk being hit again.

“From the look of it, you don’t seem to have parents.”

Selina said, smiling sweetly at him.

“If you die, what do you think will happen to your sister?”

The boy stiffened.

“In times of war, a child who survives alone has only two paths.”

“…What?”

“Either your sister sells her body, or she lives her entire life being trampled on by others—treated like a worn-out shoe.”

Selina’s smile did not falter.

“If you don’t want that, then survive. Even if you have to grovel flat on the ground to do it.”