It had rained steadily since dawn that day. The sky was heavy with grey clouds, and a thin mist hung in the air. Because of this, some whispered that the scheduled execution might be postponed.

But it was not.

News spread that the death sentence would be carried out as planned, and countless citizens of the Empire flocked towards the guillotine.

‘Please…’

Selina was among them.

Trapped on the Marquis’s estate, she had only just managed to reach the guillotine without being seen after escaping. If her identity were discovered, she would be seized on the spot. To conceal her identity, she pulled on a worn robe that she had prepared in advance, which covered her completely.

There were far too many people. She couldn’t see anything ahead of her.

So Selina forced her way forward through the tightly packed crowd, taking one step at a time. Ignoring the shouts of accusation around her, she finally reached the front.

There, she saw him.

A man was standing with his arms bound behind his back. There was no trace of the neat, well-groomed appearance he had always maintained. His vivid red hair, which had once been as bright as a ripe apple, was now tangled and matted, and he was covered in filth from head to toe.

Having only ever known Rocheste to be calm and orderly, Selina felt a sharp pain in her chest at how much he had changed. Tears welled up, threatening to spill over.

“Criminal Rocheste is to stand before the guillotine.”

At the command of an official holding the Emperor’s decree, two soldiers stepped forward and seized Rocheste by the arms.

“This criminal has dared to defy the glorious Empire, disturbing public order and slaughtering countless imperial citizens. Having committed these crimes without showing the slightest remorse, he is hereby sentenced to death by beheading, to be carried out in public.”

The official read the decree in a calm, measured voice.

The moment the sentence was announced, the crowd erupted. Cheers rang out as voices joined together, urging the execution to be carried out at once.

The atmosphere was disturbingly festive — so much so that it was hard to believe that a man was about to die.

No one mourned Rocheste’s death.

No one grieved for him at all.

‘I can’t let him die in a place like this.’

Watching from below, Selina shoved people aside and climbed onto the platform.

“W-what are you doing?! Drag this mad woman down at once!”

The soldiers panicked and scrambled to block her when she suddenly rushed forward. Despite being just one unarmed woman, countless soldiers surged towards her, attempting to restrain her.

“Surround her! There may be accomplices here to rescue the criminal!”

They assumed someone must have come to save Rocheste—the former commander of Thalia’s knight order.

Selina glared fiercely at the soldiers who leveled their spears toward her and spoke—

“Step aside. I am the daughter of Marquis Bryson Ilios Axell.”

She produced the family crest that she had secretly taken from the estate. When the soldiers recognized the crest, they hesitated, then took a step back.

The imperial commissioner, who had been assessing the situation, approached Selina.

“What exactly are you trying to do? The execution will be carried out any moment now. This is a punishment personally decreed by His Majesty the Emperor — it doesn’t matter that you are a marquess’s daughter; you cannot stop it.”

“Grant me just a moment.”

“A moment?”

“I can persuade him. I can convince him to swear loyalty to the Empire. So please stop the execution, if only for a brief while.”

She pleaded with desperate earnestness.

Caught off guard, the commissioner hesitated, at a loss. He had a general understanding of why Rocheste had been sentenced to death. He had heard that both Commander Waldemar and the Marquis had repeatedly tried to win Rocheste over and recruit him into the Empire.

In fact, Commander Waldemar had left explicit instructions that, even at the last moment, if Rocheste were to change his mind, his life was to be spared. This condition was written in small letters on His Majesty’s decree.

After a brief moment of deliberation, the commissioner quietly opened his palm.

“Five minutes. Not a second more.”

“Thank you. Truly.”

Bowing her head in gratitude, Selina ran towards Rocheste.

The moment she saw him up close, tears welled up in her eyes.

Blood had crusted over his face, and bruises covered his body — clear signs of prolonged t*rture. If this was what she could see, she wondered, how much worse must it have been where her eyes could not reach?

“Sir Rocheste…”

She ached for him, yet she couldn’t bring herself to reach out to him.

It wasn’t because he was a criminal; it was because she was.

The guilt she felt was overwhelming because she believed it was her fault he had been reduced to this state. She hesitated to speak a single word.

At that moment, Rocheste lifted his head with visible effort and looked at her.

Smiling at her as he always had, he spoke.

“You look much more worn than before.”

Hearing his gentle, unchanging voice again made her emotional.

She wished he would blame her instead.

Then she might have tried to explain how things had come to this.

Yet Rocheste showed not the slightest hint of resentment. He simply asked after her well-being, his tone soft and calm.

“…Don’t you resent me?”

Unable to endure it any longer, she finally asked him.

At that, he tilted his head slightly and asked in return.

“What do you mean?”

“I blamed myself for everything. I believed I was the one who ruined Thalia—that I was the one who brought disaster upon it.”

But Rocheste answered in a firm voice.

“That isn’t true.”

“How could you possibly know that…?”

“Despite appearances, I’m quite good at judging people. I’ve never been wrong.”

He lifted the corner of his lips into a faintly playful smile.

Since that day, no one had believed Selina.

Thalia blamed her, and nobody in the Empire trusted her either. And yet, Rocheste believed her.

Selina bit down hard on her lip and took his hand.

“Sir Rocheste. Listen carefully to what I’m about to say. I want you to live—”

“I just told you. I’m good at reading people.”

Just like before, he looked at Selina with an expression entirely free of doubt and said.

“I believe you are someone who will respect my decision, my lady.”

“B-but Rocheste, this time the situation is different—”

“It isn’t. I’ve already made my choice.”

Looking into his eyes, Selina realized it then.

His gaze belonged to someone who had already resolved to die.

‘Why…?’

All he needed to do was say one word: that he would support the Empire.

Then he could have saved his own life, survived, and planned for the future. Someone like Rocheste could easily have risen again.

That was why she had come all this way.

She had risked everything because she could not allow Rochester to die.

But Rocheste was already preparing to end things on his own terms.

“There was something I truly wished to say to you, my lady.”

And then—

“Long ago… I am deeply sorry that I failed to protect you from Libero.”

Despite never having wronged Selina, his final words were an apology for something she could barely remember.

“What are you talking about? I’ve never blamed you, Sir Rocheste. Not once. I swear it — not a single time. If that’s been troubling you, then it’s all right. Please, even now, change your mind. I don’t want to see you die.”

Selina shook her head violently as she clutched his hand. Her vision was blurred with tears, so she couldn’t see the expression on his face. It seemed as though he might have furrowed his brows slightly.

Was he angry with her for pleading with him until the very end?

Even if he was, there was nothing he could do about it.

All she could do was stand in his way.

If there was anything she could plead, she was going to give it her all.

“My lady.”

But she was not allowed to.

“If I change my mind now, it would mean breaking the spirits of everyone still left in Thalia.”

“Ah…”

“My death is for those who remain. So please—Please survive, my lady, and protect those who are left.”

With that, Rocheste was led forward by the soldiers, stopping before the execution platform.

“N-no. No…”

She had to stop this.

Rocheste was a fine knight. Even if he were to die, it should have been on the battlefield—not like this, in a death devoid of meaning.

“No!! Stop this at once!”

The soldiers dragged Selina down from the platform.

She struggled and screamed, but it was not enough to stop the tragedy that was about to unfold.

Voices screamed from all sides, calling for the blade to fall.

Bloodthirsty cries echoed relentlessly through the air.

As the rope slackened, the bluish blade was raised high.

Then, in an act of brutality beyond imagining, it came down upon Rocheste’s neck.

“Ah…”

The puddles swollen with rainwater were instantly stained red.

“Aaaaah—!”

She screamed and tried to run towards the platform.

But she couldn’t.

Her father, who had been watching the execution from a distance, suddenly blocked her path. His face twisted as if he were going mad, and he seized Selina.

“So you long for Thalia that much? Then spend the rest of your life shut away in a dark room, dreaming of her.”

From that day on, Selina was confined to the attic and never permitted to leave the estate again.

There was no need to post a guard.

She never took a single step beyond her room of her own accord.

Shut away there, Selina prayed again and again without rest.

She prayed that those who remained might survive, just as Rocheste had wished.

“Have you heard about the Grand Duchess of Thalia? The one who went mad after the grand ducal castle fell — do you know what became of her?”

But the news that reached her was so devastating that she would have preferred to have broken her neck instead.