Helena wiped her tears and smiled brightly.

“Really?”

“Of course. And now, I can remember her with pride. Yes… at last, I can truly do that.”

Helena looked up at Adrian Winston, etching once more into her heart the face of someone who had truly loved.

Just then, a sharp voice called out from behind.

“I knew this would happen.”

Startled, Helena and Adrian both turned toward the door.

Standing in the doorway, dressed in pajamas with a robe thrown over her shoulders, was Mia Winston.

Arms crossed, Mia said,

“Your eyes were brimming with tears all through dinner—so this was the reason?”

Mia strode over and threw her arms around the two of them, pulling them into a hug. In a gentle, sorrowful voice, she said,

“Of course you’re both grieving. Sandra was the woman you loved, Adrian, and Helena’s mother.”

Mia looked at the still flustered Helena and Adrian and added warmly,

“You don’t have to hide your sadness in front of me.”

Then, with a gentle smile, she teased,

“Unless it’s because I’m your stepmother?”

Tears still glittering in their eyes, Adrian and Helena couldn’t help but laugh along with Mia.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

The bird that once soared toward the peak, after falling and falling, finally came to rest in the dark, damp ground where it was born.

Attendants sent by the Emperor came and took Clarissa’s ruby necklace. With hands that were polite but not particularly gentle, they stripped her of her ceremonial robes and wiped away her ornate makeup.

The Emperor sent her to a quiet tower—a place reserved for prisoners of noble birth—but even there, she could not escape the cold and darkness that only a prison could bring. It felt as if, after a long journey, she had returned to the underground city she had once fought so desperately to escape.

The time it took for her to fall was as long as the time she had spent trying to fly.

Once she realized she would never rise again, the deposed empress let the Emperor’s interrogators pluck every last feather from her wings.

One night, the Emperor came to see her.

“Why don’t you beg me for mercy?”

Staring into the Emperor’s bloodshot, drunken eyes, the deposed empress sneered.

“Your Majesty, begging is only possible when you have something left to hope for. Now, the only thing I wish for is for all of this to be over as quickly as possible.”

The Emperor sighed.

“Tell me you love me. If you do, I’ll let you return someday—even if it takes years.”

With a gaze colder than anything, the former empress looked at him and replied.

There was nothing in her gaze now—nothing at all. No emotion could be found.

“Your Majesty. What you wanted was an empress who did not yearn for your love, and what I wanted was the position of empress. Now that I have been deposed, our contract is over.”

“A contract… Was that really all it ever was?”

The emperor let the bottle slip from his hand. The thick glass struck the floor with a heavy thud.

“You were always so gentle to me. Compared to everything I did… it’s unbelievable!”

After the bottle, the next thing to hit the ground were the emperor’s knees.

The Emperor of the Empire knelt on the cold prison floor and began to sob like a child.

“I was only able to live freely because you were always by my side…”

At his confession, not even a bitter laugh escaped Clarissa.

With eyes colder than ice, the deposed empress spoke.

“The curse on the royal family was real, wasn’t it?”

To the emperor, who continued to sob and choke on his cries, she said coolly,

“Your Majesty, I was never gentle. I simply expected nothing.”

A merciless smile curved on her lips.

“Think about it, Your Majesty. When crossing a pool of clear water you wouldn’t mind falling into, would you step carefully? Or would you be more careful when crossing a foul, bubbling, stagnant pond? I was simply cautious around you for the same reason.”

The emperor seemed to reel from her words, as if stricken.

Clarissa quietly continued,

“If you mistook that for kindness, for love… then all you were doing was throwing a tantrum at me, Your Majesty. There was never any such thing between us from the very beginning.”

With that, the deposed empress fell silent.

She waited until the emperor managed to lift his heavy body and stagger out of the cell, until every last trace of him had disappeared.

When complete silence fell, she realized,

‘It’s really over.’

It was truly the end.

Even her own son had abandoned her. Rufus, resentful of the disgrace his mother had brought upon him, treated her with nothing but cold indifference.

Clarissa didn’t care about that, either. Just as she had never loved the Emperor, she had never loved the princes.

After all the interrogations were over, her fate was decided. Thanks to her past contributions and as a minimal courtesy to the deposed empress, she was spared a public trial. But she was to live a life no different from death.

She would be confined to an unmarked place of exile, forbidden to meet or speak with anyone for the rest of her days. To live forever in darkness—such was the fate of a bird that had fallen from the sky.

Clarissa let out a bitter laugh.

“To merely breathe, but live a life no different from death… So this is the price I must pay.”

She felt no regret. There was nothing left she wanted, no one left she wished to see.

‘No, there is someone I want to see.’

Sandra.

The woman whose life she took with her own hands for the sake of her own glory… The only person she had ever loved.

‘I gave you up to have everything—and in the end, I lost everything, including you.’

But all of it was nothing more than an unchangeable past.

Clarissa quietly closed her eyes.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Shrouded in mist, she departed for her nameless exile at dawn. Only one maid accompanied her: a maid who could neither hear nor speak. This maid would be her eternal warden.

Just as Clarissa was about to step into the shabby carriage where the maid was waiting for her, she heard a voice call out.

“…Godmother.”

At that title—one she thought she’d never hear again—Clarissa flinched and turned around in shock.

A woman with hair as red as fire and eyes as green as the world’s beauty stood before her.

“San—!”

The moment she nearly called out the name she longed for, Clarissa was struck by the full depth of her own folly.

“…Helena.”

Clarissa’s expression shifted, twisting into a bitter, mocking smile.

“So your memories have returned. Yes, there was a time when you used to call me godmother.”

She noticed that Helena was clutching something tightly beneath her cloak.

‘A knife?’

Unbidden, Clarissa let out a low laugh.

“Helena, have you come to avenge Sandra? You’re as brave as ever.”

She spread her arms wide, baring her chest.

“I was just thinking the same thing! Someone once told me that the day we waste today is the day others wish they could have tomorrow. Life and death aren’t equal, and avenging a death by taking another life doesn’t feel right.”

Clarissa slowly closed her eyes.

“The price of death should be paid with death. Go on, Helena. I am nothing but a sinner now. I have nothing left to hold on to. Take my life.”

Helena, her eyes burning with a storm of hatred and aching affection, drew the object from her cloak.
Then, she stepped forward—and pressed it hard against Clarissa’s chest.

“…?”

Feeling something hard poke her in the chest, Clarissa cautiously opened her eyes.

Helena, glaring up at her as if she hated her with every fiber of her being, was pushing a small book against her chest.

Helena spoke.

“I found this in my mother’s bookcase.”

She bit her lip, voice trembling.

“It’s far too precious for someone like you… but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Helena pressed the small book firmly to Clarissa’s chest and continued.

“I suppose we’ll never see each other again. Just as you took Sandra’s life, I’ll consider it as if I’ve ended yours here, today. So this is where I’ll stop. I’ll stop hating you, and I’ll stop resenting you.”

Her words faltered, emotion threatening to overwhelm her.

“…Because my mother wanted me to be happy.”

Clarissa looked down at what Helena had handed her.

It was a storybook.

On the small, leather-bound cover, the title The Tale of Three Girls was written in ink.

Clarissa realized it at once.

‘This is… Sandra’s…’

It was something Sandra had written—most likely the original story for the dance she had once intended to perform.

“…Goodbye.”

Lost in her memories, Clarissa barely heard Helena say goodbye. It was only the tremor of tears in her voice that made Clarissa hastily lift her head. “Hel—”

But Helena had already turned away, burying her face in Benjamin’s chest as he waited for her.

Clarissa bit her lip, forcing herself not to call out.

‘What would I say if I called her back? What could I possibly say to that child?’

Clutching the book to her chest, Clarissa turned away.

Inside the dark carriage, a pale-faced maid watched her impatiently, as if urging her to hurry.

Without looking back, Clarissa climbed into the carriage.

With all the curtains drawn, the carriage was as dark as a coffin. Relying on the faint light seeping in through the cracks, she carefully opened the book.

It was the story of three girls born in darkness.

Each girl, named Fire, Sun, and Star, set out on a journey to find her own light.

Fire believed she would find light where joy was brightest.
Sun believed the light would be where it shone most brilliantly.
Star believed she would find light in a place where pain disappeared.

After a long journey, the three girls each returned to the darkness, carrying what they had found.

Fire brought back a jeweled candlestick.
Sun brought back a beautiful crown.
Star brought back a medicine said to cure any illness.

But none of these things shone in the darkness.

Defeated, Fire spoke.

“That candlestick, which shone so beautifully on stage…”

Sun, equally disappointed, muttered,

“That crown, which sparkled so brightly atop the prince’s head…”

Star whispered in a regretful voice,

“Everyone smiled so brightly after taking this medicine, and yet…”

The three girls, full of despair, looked into each other’s faces.

Star gave a faint smile and asked,

“By the way, how long has it been since we last met?”

Sun shrugged.

“I don’t know. It’s been such a long time.”

Fire beamed.

“Still, I’m just so happy to see you both again.”

Radiant smiles, brighter than any light, bloomed on the faces of the three girls.

Fire, Sun, and Star clasped hands, shining together in the darkness. The light radiating from them filled the darkness completely. The pitch-black night vanished somewhere far away, and the three girls laughed together in the light…

“…A truly fairytale ending.”

Closing the book, Clarissa leaned back against the not-so-comfortable seat of the carriage.

Had she dozed off, even for a moment?

She dreamed—a dream she hadn’t had in such a very long time.

The first thing that appeared was Isabella’s face, chewing on moss like a baby goat.

Shortly after arriving in the underground city, Clarissa’s feet, unaccustomed to walking barefoot, were constantly covered in scratches.