“Your Majesty, what is this…?”

Banther, having hurried over upon receiving the summons, was taken aback. His close friend and superior often surprised him, but never had he been this stunned.

Seeing Banther entering, the emperor raised a finger to his lips. Shhh. The meaning of the gesture was so clear that Banther fell silent like a mute.

“Is she all right?”

“There are no serious injuries. Just a few bruises that will heal quickly with some ointment. It seems exhaustion has set in after the extreme stress, but she’s more asleep than unconscious, so she should wake up without issue after resting well.”

The palace doctor, who had examined Mail calmly, shared his findings. He had been summoned in such haste that he was still in his nightclothes. Hearing the diagnosis, the emperor finally looked somewhat at ease.

“That’s a relief.”

The doctor thought the same. It truly was a relief. The emperor’s expression upon the doctor’s arrival had been so terrifying he could hardly stand upright.

What would have happened if the young lady hadn’t been all right? The doctor felt a deep gratitude toward the young lady for her wellbeing.

“Thank you. You may go and rest now.”

“I am deeply honored.”

“Your Majesty.”

As the doctor left, Banther approached, glancing between the emperor standing by the bedside and the young lady lying there. His expression became increasingly complex, to the point of defying description.

“What exactly happened?”

“You must have heard the gist.”

“Only in vague terms.”

The emperor seemed unwilling to elaborate to Banther. Rohayden’s gaze didn’t leave the sleeping Mail. Giving up on hearing the details, Banther changed his question.

“Fine. I’ll let that slide. But why did you summon me?”

“To guard this place.”

“…Excuse me?”

“Guard this place, Sir. Until I return.”

‘Wait, where are you going?’ But Banther never got the chance to ask. The emperor strode out without a moment’s pause.

Rohayden went straight to the Audience Hall. In the spacious room, the maids who had been detained by the knights were trembling in fear, waiting for him without understanding the reason. Next to them, soldiers were kneeling in rows. The emperor spoke calmly upon arrival.

“One by one.”

“…?”

“Each maid, speak one by one. I just need to hear your voices, so say whatever you like.”

“Did you hear that? Follow the order immediately!”

Not knowing what was going on, the maids exchanged uneasy glances before hastily starting to speak up under the knight’s stern command.

One by one. When the short introductions, almost like self-introductions, were finished, the emperor immediately pointed out two of them. The two maids he pointed at turned pale as they were dragged forward.

“The rest may leave now.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The remaining maid shivered before the emperor. For a mere maidservant, he wasn’t an object of affection or admiration, but of overwhelming fear.

That would be true regardless of whether he was a tyrant or a saint. Tyrant or wise king, the fact remained that he held the power to kill them with a mere gesture.

Of course, Rohayden hadn’t spared her just to kill her. He would deliver punishment fitting for the crime.

His question came out in an even tone, though he already had a strong guess. He was asking for confirmation.

“Who among you, on orders, spilled the drink at the banquet?”

He didn’t even need a reply. As soon as he spoke, the maid on the left looked over at her companion. The maid on the right looked as if she might start crying at any moment. With confirmation in hand, Rohayden now turned his gaze to the kneeling soldiers.

Who among them was supposed to be on duty at the outer palace gates tonight? Once again, the culprits were identified quickly. Two soldiers, faces pale, stumbled forward and bowed.

“So.”

The emperor smiled, though it was hardly a smile of joy.

“Now, let’s hear the full story. Each in turn.”

Two soldiers and a maid. A thief grows uneasy, and a sinner cannot enter the temple. Of the three, none remained unshaken.

—

Ormil slowly lifted her heavy eyelids.

Her head throbbed. The view before her was blurred and dim, making it hard to take in all at once. She blinked, trying to lift herself up. As her hand touched the floor, the chill and hard surface felt unfamiliar.

“Huh…?”

Where am I? Not in my room. As soon as she realized this, a musty, foul smell stabbed at her nose. Gagging, she covered her nose with one hand and lifted her head. Moments later, Ormil let out a piercing scream.

“Ahhhh!”

Iron bars divided the space in two. Beyond them lay another person. Limbs bound in chains, sprawled lifelessly. At first, she thought it was a corpse. But as she screamed, her memory returned.

The banquet was suddenly canceled. Without warning, the candidates were ordered back to their quarters, with no explanation.

Ormil was no exception. She’d returned to her room, indulging in sweet dreams and various fantasies. What should I do first when I become Empress? Maybe it’s best to wait until after the wedding to have those two women executed. Should I have them beheaded on the same day or separate dates?

Then, the soldiers stormed in. Armed and carrying spears, they surrounded her. Stunned, Ormil thought she was dreaming. The lead knight spoke to her. “Escort her.”

Though he said “escort,” the rough hands gripping and dragging her didn’t ask for her consent. Naturally, Ormil screamed and fought back until a sharp pain at her neck forced her unconscious. And when she awoke, she was here.

“What… is this…?”

Her voice trembled, splitting at the end. If she had her wits, she would know. This was a prison. A dark, damp, windowless cell, likely underground.

With great effort, Ormil turned her gaze back to the person beyond the bars. She recognized him. They weren’t close, just someone she intended to use. Ormil furrowed her brows, finally understanding.

Caught.

That fool got caught in the act.

Ha. A hollow laugh escaped her. Inside, curses bubbled up.

‘You idiot. You stupid, clueless, brainless idiot! Not only did you mess up, but you even got yourself caught here.’

Ormil believed she was only here because the captured Musik had given up her name. It was entirely his fault.

‘Even if he confessed, I can just deny it. I’ll claim he acted on his own, that it was all him.’

She thought it would work. The world, after all, would side with someone like her—a beautiful, noble lady—over a foolish, poor commoner. That was the natural order of things. Fair and just, really.

Then came the sound of footsteps. A measured, disciplined pace, signaling the presence of a knight or someone well-trained. Ormil quickly looked up.

It was the Emperor.

A radiant smile bloomed on Ormil’s face. It’s over. I’m saved. If I can proclaim my innocence to the Emperor himself, I’ll be free soon.

Maybe, who knows, he’ll apologize for the misunderstanding and invite me for a private dinner. Perhaps even a personal invitation to his chambers. Ormil was smiling optimistically as she opened her mouth.

Creak.

“…?”

The Emperor didn’t look her way. He moved toward the adjacent cell instead, where Musik lay collapsed. Ormil watched this curiously, then gasped in shock. When had the Emperor drawn his sword?

Moments later, a chilling sound rang out.

Slice.

“Aaaaah!”

“…!”

Ormil clamped a hand over her mouth. Musik, who had been unconscious, awoke with a scream. Severed fingers rolled across the floor, even visible in the dim light. The air thickened with the stench of blood.

Calmly, the Emperor spoke.

“Who ordered you?”

The voice flowed with almost no intonation. It contrasted starkly with Musik’s agonized thrashing and screams.

Ormil doubted her own eyes. This can’t be real, a dream, a hallucination, anything but reality.

Musik, too, was overwhelmed with disbelief. He felt he was the most wronged person here, or at least he thought so.

‘What did I do wrong? What? All I did was discipline a servant girl who acted as if she owned her mistress’s status. I hit an impudent commoner a few times. That was all, so why—’

“Your Majesty, I… I’m innocent…”