A sudden feeling struck her, the kind that makes your hair stand on end, that a headless corpse had bolted upright in its coffin.

“……!”

But of course, no such thing happened.

Ha, I must really be on edge. How long did I have to suffer under that madman?

“Guard, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Saying so, she pushed Zenon’s hand away.

The hallucination she had just seen was entirely Feron’s fault.

Day after day, his brand of insanity had only grown more inventive, and he would fly into a rage at the mere sight of her speaking to the young male servants.

‘Son of a b*tch. Even in death, you still…….’

Her marriage to Feron had been anything but short.

Through all those long years, the only thing that had kept her enduring his every extreme was her pride.

Her damned pride.

She had not wanted to tarnish the brilliant years of “Karin Rothsil,” born into a distinguished ducal house, possessed of looks that no amount of flattery could do justice, and raised to be the crown princess.

Karin was a woman who could never be allowed to be unhappy.

Karin Rothsil earning anyone’s pity was something that simply could not be.

No matter that she had lost her grip on the position of crown princess, or that some barbarian had taken her as collateral and dragged her down into ruin.

***

Even with the filthy name Difon Valstar tacked onto hers, Karin always had to hold the upper hand.

That alone was what allowed Karin to breathe.

From birth, Karin had been surrounded by nothing but fine things.

She had been born into a powerful family and lived a life of reverence.

She had an older sister and brother, considerably older than her, so in her early years she monopolized all their affection.

The great Rothsil family had welcomed a youngest child into the world, so one could only imagine how everyone around her doted on her.

Toys and jewels never stopped flowing into Karin’s room. Nobles seeking to forge ties with the Rothsil family, as well as those who were already close to them, lavished Karin with praise until their mouths ran dry.

Karin was a child who deserved to be loved.

It started with how she simply looked.

Even the heads of families who had been at odds with the Rothsils could not help but admit it when they came face to face with Karin’s angelic appearance.

Her abundant, lustrous silver hair looked like a scattering of the Milky Way. The red eyes unique to the Rothsil family gave a sharp impression, but Karin’s irises were a shade lighter, a soft pink.

Her eyes were spring, fragrance, and the memory of a tender first love. On the days she entered the imperial palace on the arm of Duke Rothsil, those haughty nobles would flock just to catch a glimpse of her. And when Karin curved her round eyes into a smile, they would clutch their chests with a breathless “Oh, my.”

The one who received adoration. A girl who could not help but draw every eye wherever she went. A fairy of the Girian Empire, raised in an abundance of love, radiating light even when she simply stood still.

All of it referred to Karin.

Later, a true youngest child was born into the Rothsil family, but that child was a boy, and it was around the time Karin had already grown tired of others’ attention, so she felt not even a flicker of jealousy.

The girl who had grown up hearing more praise than she took breaths looked into the mirror and thought:

‘There is no one in this world more noble and beautiful than me.’

The word “beautiful” felt too common for her. Love letters poured into Karin’s room in such volume that there was no need to bring in extra firewood. It was said that many men had fallen into a quiet, lingering illness from their longing for her.

Karin’s looks only grew more radiant with each passing day, reaching their peak around the time of her debut.

The moment she stepped into the ballroom, she filled every inch of it.

If beauty could kill, if it could blind, Karin would be the one capable of it.

Karin was a fairy, light, fragrance, and a flower blooming on an unreachable cliff.

She walked with a light, fluttering step and settled gracefully into her seat.

At that time, Feron must have been on the battlefield, cleaving through the vitals of his enemies.

If Feron was a war demon who drove the goddess of victory before him, then Karin was the goddess herself.

Society instantly began to revolve around her. And as a matter of natural course, she was designated for the position of crown princess.

The crown prince had cherished Karin from the very beginning. His favoritism was visible enough that it drew good-natured complaints from those around him.

They were a well-matched pair, a future emperor and empress from whom great things were expected for Girian.

No one threw stones at their relationship. There were simply quite a few who ached from their deep, silent admiration for Karin.

Karin was sharp-minded as well, and she took to her crown princess lessons with ease.

With both beauty and intellect, Karin was everything, and even the empress cherished her like her own child. She made no effort to hide her praise, saying that Karin’s natural bearing and presence rivaled that of the imperial family.

A life on a clear, open road, in every sense of the phrase.

Wealth, honor, and love beyond measure lay at her feet.

Karin loved her life as much as she loved herself.

Toward the end, that love had grown so fierce and exclusive that no one else could wedge their way in……

But even this selfish part of herself was simply and wholly endearing to her.

Because Karin Rothsil was someone for whom that was perfectly fitting.

Yet perhaps that arrogance had gone too far.

From “that day,” the world began to turn against Karin. It was the day she, who had drawn the envy of the gods upon herself, first came face to face with hardship. The one choice that Karin, who had been made entirely of self-affirmation, regretted for the rest of her life.

“Karin. You know there’s a separate dining party after the victory parade today, right? Come with me.”

“Yes. I’d love to.”

It was the crown prince’s invitation.

The moment when Feron, at twenty-seven, had completed every campaign and returned to the imperial capital.

It was the era when the country was at its most secure and prosperous, both within and beyond its borders. It was also the day that marked the final period on the undefeated legend written by that monstrous man.

The celebratory banquet following the victory parade proceeded grandly, and this was a separate gathering for key figures only.

A dining hall, decorated even more lavishly than the banquet hall, had been arranged with a meal. A long, vertical table stood in the dining hall, crowded with high-ranking figures.

The emperor naturally occupied the head of the table, with the imperial family and nobles seated to his left, and those who had distinguished themselves in the war seated across from them on his right.

The seat hastily arranged for Karin was next to her father, Duke Rothsil.

Karin felt the gazes of the knights pouring over her and entered with Duke Rothsil, composed as ever.

She wore a faint smile, barely visible, and paid her respects to the imperial family.

She settled into her chair like a butterfly and did not let her gaze wander carelessly. She lowered her thick lashes gently and fixed her eyes on the empty air just before her.

‘……It smells like sweat.’

Was it because knights were seated across from her?

Karin let these arrogant thoughts drift through her mind as she let the emperor’s laughter pass through one ear. She had just cut a small piece of meat and was carefully bringing it to her mouth.

“I believe I have given you a great deal, this and that…….”

Karin had no interest in what the emperor had given or what the recipient had received. She only hoped this tedious round of empty flattery would end quickly.

“And yet it still seems insufficient. You have elevated the standing of Girian this much. There will be many more days of progress ahead, but you are the one who laid that foundation.”

The lemon sorbet served as a palate cleanser was quite to her liking. As Karin rolled the sorbet on the tip of her tongue, the emperor continued.

“And so, just one thing you desire. I have no intention of granting you my throne, but I am willing to grant you anything else……. Feron, is there something you wish for?”

The gentle voice fell, and silence settled over the table. A chill seemed to sweep through the air, and Karin slowly withdrew the dessert spoon she had placed in her mouth.

‘What is this?’

She blinked once, deliberately, and let her gaze drift upward.

She had meant to read the situation. But what she saw was an insolent finger pointed directly at her.

The gleaming fingertip unsettled her. It looked like there might even be a bit of sauce on it, whatever he had been eating with his hands.