Traditionally, a daughter of royalty or nobility with ominous rumors attached to her has no political value whatsoever.

However, the previous king of Roengreen cherished his only princess as dearly as his own life. How ominous Vanessa Roengreen was, how beautiful she was—and how protected she was, was known to everyone in the world.

The princess, who grew up like a precious gem, was sold to a neighboring country after the king’s death, due to her brother’s scheme. And true to the rumors of being an ill-fated princess, she was in the process of bringing that neighboring country to ruin.

Although the national fortune had been ominous since the tyrant’s ascension, Terevron, which was still a wealthy country, in just three days.

Of course, it should be seen that Terevron’s downfall was due to the ruthlessness of the Emperor, the absolute ruler wielding unlimited power.

In any case, since a prosperous country had fallen to ashes in an instant, it was natural to think, ‘Perhaps, as rumored, that woman brought misfortune.’

“…Nothing bad will happen to our Drake territory, right? Like a plague breaking out.”

“Or a big fire occurring.”

“Or a drought…”

The Drake family knights each voiced their gloomy assumptions. The only one who sighed and discouraged such rudeness from the knights was the commander of the knights.

“Don’t speak so harshly. She is still a princess of noble lineage, after all.”

“Princess? She may be royalty, but now she’s just a prisoner. Unless her family, the Roengreen royal family, pays a ransom to take her back.”

“It’s not just because of her lineage. If you have eyes, you must have seen. Our lord… is paying attention to the princess.”

“……”

When the commander of the knights clearly pointed out the fact everyone had been avoiding, the atmosphere in the room sank like it was plunged into cold water.

As if to say it was truly chilling, some rubbed their arms. Some had expressions as if they had bitten into a bug, or faces that had turned pale.

It was hard to believe.

That Jurgen Drake—a sword honed in blood, who knew nothing but war all his life—would be interested in a woman.

It was clear how much the Emperor would mock if he knew this fact.

“Well, yeah… She is incredibly beautiful, isn’t she? That woman. When I first saw her, I thought she jumped out of a masterpiece painting.”

They tried to understand that it wasn’t strange for even the stone-like Jurgen Drake to show interest since she was such a great beauty, but it was still hard to accept—

“…Could it be that our Duke was possessed by a spirit during the last northern defense battle?”

Even though they knew it was a stupid suspicion, someone still voiced such nonsense.

A man inhumanly strong, and a woman inhumanly beautiful.

Everyone agreed that it was indeed a bizarre combination.

It was only when bedtime came that Vanessa realized a huge problem.

There was only one bed in the room.

She couldn’t help but laugh at herself for only realizing this now.

I guess I’ve been out of it this whole time. It’s not unreasonable, having become the queen of a fallen country overnight and being dragged here.

‘With only one bed, one of us will have to sleep on the floor…’

But, this floor…

“……”

Vanessa slightly furrowed her brow at the rising unpleasantness.

A natural dirt floor would be better. But this… wooden floor was full of ingrained dirt that made her doubt if it was ever cleaned. Even if she laid a blanket over it, it would be unpleasant. And it looked like bugs might come out. Big, black, many-legged, filthy cockroaches.

She really hated cockroaches. To the point of fainting

Vanessa stole a glance at Jurgen, who was sitting on a chest, tending to his sword. The blue gleam of the sword cast a diagonal shadow across his face.

His already pale complexion, with the added blue metallic hue, made him look even more frightening. Vanessa bit her lip, wondering how to approach this man she was extremely wary of—afraid of.

Indeed, this man was the type of person Vanessa greatly feared—a real killer who had killed countless people, reeking of the battlefield’s blood.

She was scared and confused, not knowing why such a person hated her, or what he intended to do by keeping her alive instead of killing her immediately.

The terror that the sword in his hand might pierce her heart at any moment.

It was a sensation vividly imprinted in her mind since she saw blood in the underground dungeon.

Perhaps noticing her timid, hesitant gaze, the man’s golden eyes slowly turned towards her. Startled at that moment, Vanessa unknowingly lowered her gaze and her lips trembled.

She was about to gather the courage to ask where she should sleep.

“You sleep on the bed.”

The man said as he rose from the chest, sheathing his sword. Vanessa, who had been standing by the window, blinked in bewilderment.

Sleep on the bed… alone? Does he mean I can have the whole bed to myself?

“Then… where do you plan to sleep?”

Vanessa asked cautiously, but Jurgen didn’t answer. He spread a blanket on the floor and lay down on it carelessly. Then, with his brow furrowed irritably, he closed his eyes and ordered.

“Put out the candle.”

“……”

Although annoyed at being treated like a servant, Vanessa obediently followed the order. There’s no use in being rebellious. I am, after all, a prisoner captured by that man.

When she extinguished the candle, the room became very dark as the only light source disappeared. Vanessa fumbled her way to the bed and lay down.

As she covered herself with the blanket that smelled slightly musty, she suddenly realized that this bed was wide enough for two people with room to spare.

…She felt somewhat guilty, but not enough to want to share the bed with that man.

Vanessa glanced sideways at the floor. She caught a glimpse of the man lying there without any cover.

Isn’t he uncomfortable? Sleeping like that.

It was still surprising, thinking about it again. That he had given up the bed to her.

Of course, that wasn’t the only surprising thing…

‘I can’t believe he really won’t do anything to me.’

The queen of a fallen country that fell into the hands of the empire’s executioner. She was in a position where it wouldn’t be strange no matter what was done to her, but nothing as terrible as she had imagined had happened. Despite falling into such a miserable state, she didn’t feel tormented.

Rather… have I been saved?

Thanks to the empire and that man destroying Terevron, she was able to escape from Leroy’s terrible violence.

Jurgen Drake—whose intentions were impossible to fathom—had said he would keep her alive because it wouldn’t be fun if she died easily.

That could be interpreted to mean he would torment her to the point where death would be preferable. But is this… tormenting? Far from tormenting…

Vanessa stole another glance at him. He was motionless, perhaps already asleep. In the quiet stillness, only her own breathing seemed unusually loud.

He’s a man who seemed to hate her, for reasons she didn’t understand.

Yet his actions were contradictory.

Who are you, really? When and how did we meet before?

Pondering over questions that would never be answered, Vanessa gently closed her eyelids as drowsiness washed over her.

The next morning.

Her eyes flew open on their own at dawn. She quickly got up and looked at the floor, but Jurgen was nowhere to be seen.

Vanessa thoroughly washed with what appeared to be water left by the inn’s staff, roughly combed her tangled hair with her hands, and went downstairs.

As she appeared in the dining room-slash-lobby, a strange silence fell over the place. The inn’s guests, especially the men, stared at her openly with blatant gazes.

Vanessa ignored all those stares as usual and looked around. Jurgen was nowhere to be seen, having gone somewhere early in the morning.

As she was thinking about going back to the room and staying put, someone approached her with heavy footsteps. Vanessa was reflexively startled, and she eyed the person warily.

The man with dark gray hair, eyes of an intriguing mix of green and blue, a face that gave off a wild impression, and a sturdy build was someone Vanessa recognized.

She couldn’t remember his name, but he was said to be the commander of the Flügel Knights belonging to the Drake family.

On the way here, Jurgen’s knights hadn’t been very friendly to Vanessa. Far from being friendly, they often glanced at her with somewhat disgruntled or strange, indecipherable looks.

So Vanessa naturally faced the knight commander before her with tension. The man, who reminded her of a large wild animal, was tall enough that Vanessa had to lift her head to look up at him.

The knight commander bowed slightly to Vanessa, then spoke in a booming voice befitting his bear-like physique.

“I am Arthur Cromaine, captain of the Flügel Knights serving Duke Drake.”

“Ah… I see.”

Vanessa nodded dazedly at his attitude that was unexpectedly very polite. She had been mentally prepared for the mockery and jeers that would be poured on a prisoner.

“If you’re thinking of having breakfast, would you like to come over there and sit with us?”

Vanessa glanced in the direction he pointed. On one side of the dining room, five or six round tables were occupied by Drake family knights sitting in small groups.

All of them were watching her with looks of curiosity and foreboding.