Her reaction was calm, almost detached, as if the thought of her family’s destruction was nothing more than a passing incident.

Robellia, for her part, seemed intent on reading some deeper meaning into Akan’s decision not to kill her, as if there were some special bond between them. Given the nature of their relationship, buried in her erased memories, it was a grotesque misunderstanding. 

Duke Mos saw no need to correct Robellia’s naive delusion. After all, the Duke needed a tyrant to maintain control, and Akan needed an outlet for his seething rage. 

“Yes. By all rights, Your Highness should have been exiled, if not executed. However, His Majesty has shown mercy by allowing you to remain here.”

‘He took my father’s life and claimed the throne, but he showed me mercy.’

It was a completely contradictory, absurd statement, but Robellia, now mentally a child, accepted it without question. The realisation of how little the Robellia of ten years ago had understood the gravity of their situation left a bitter taste in Mos’s mouth. 

“I’m afraid we cannot provide you with a personal maid, but the housekeepers will attend to your needs. You can continue to live here in comfort.”

Leaving Robellia alone was not only a direct order from the shaken Akan upon his return, but also something Duke Mos agreed with wholeheartedly. The princess had to be kept alive until she had outlived her usefulness. It would be disastrous if she were to die alone and disrupt their carefully laid plans. 

“Understood. I mean, I understand.”

“Please, feel free to speak.” 

The change in their circumstances had caused Robellia to adopt a strained formality, but Mos found her attempts amusing. The younger one was, the easier it was to discard useless emotions like pride. In some ways, the princess had been more pragmatic in her youth. 

As Mos rose to leave, Robellia hesitated before speaking again. 

“Um, forgive me… but does Akan dislike me?” 

She fidgeted, her eyes darting nervously, clearly afraid of the answer. It seemed that Robellia was more concerned about Akan’s anger and abrupt departure than the fact that he had seized the throne. 

It made sense – Robellia’s memories stopped at the age of twelve, a time when Duke Mos didn’t exist in her life. No matter how much she was told to continue living in the palace she had always known, the only familiar face was Akan Roxas, whom she had met only once. 

“I don’t know.”

“If he’s angry with me, please tell him I’m sorry… and ask him to come and see me.” 

Perhaps it was because both her legs were broken, or perhaps it was the weight of the crown that kept her grounded, but surprisingly Robellia didn’t insist on going to see Akan herself. Instead, she looked downhearted, her spirits clearly dampened. 

Mos found himself idly curious about that afternoon so long ago – the one with the little boy and girl he had only heard vague stories about. Had it really been such a special day that, even after returning from the brink of death, it had remained unforgettable? 

“I will deliver the message.” 

Robellia, her face brightening slightly, nodded in acknowledgement. 

Just as a new meal was brought in, a maid pushed the tray to the bedside table and began to set the dishes. Before the maid could finish, Robellia reached for the bread. But as soon as her fingers touched the soft loaf, she hesitated, withdrew her hand and picked up the utensils instead. 

Even if her conscious memories were gone, her subconscious instincts remained. 

Duke Mos, pretending not to notice, quietly left the room. To him, the princess was merely someone who needed to stay alive, and there were far more pressing matters that demanded his attention. In time, her body would heal, and perhaps her mind would follow. 

—

While Robellia remained trapped in her past, abandoned to her illusions, the clock of the Imperial Palace kept ticking. 

Marquis Pison was thrown into the underground prison, accused of conspiring with his daughter’s fiancé to commit treason. The elaborate plan, carefully orchestrated by Duke Mos, was almost flawless. Already, no one in the realm dared to speak the name of Pison’s estate. 

Despite the successful conclusion of the matter that had consumed his attention for several days, Akan’s expression remained sour. It was no doubt due to the letter the steward had brought earlier. Duke Mos glanced at the crumpled paper in the emperor’s hand. 

“What does it say?”

Without answering, Akan further crumpled the letter and threw it on the floor. It had been delivered by one of the maids assigned to the princess’s palace, so the sender could only be Robellia. 

“Nothing but nonsense.”

The letter was indeed full of nonsense. Robellia had written at length, apologising and taking the blame for whatever had upset him, begging him not to hate her. After pages of such sentiments, she confessed to feeling lonely, with no one to talk to, and asked him to come and see her. 

The sentences Robellia had written reflected the arrogance and confidence of someone who had lived her entire life as part of the ruling class, yet they were written with an exaggerated humility. She undoubtedly believed that she was in a superior position, and her humility came across as a favour to herself. This attitude reminded Akan of an old memory – one so distasteful that it soured his mood.

“You should visit her. Just because she doesn’t remember doesn’t mean her sins have disappeared, does it?”

“I’m only tolerating this until her body heals.” 

Duke Mos smiled secretly at Akan Roxas’ words, though he tried not to show it. As far as he was concerned, Akan was clearly just avoiding Robellia, for whatever reason. 

And yet the anger in Akan’s eyes remained, a fire that seemed to consume him from within but refused to die. Still, it was puzzling that he couldn’t bring himself to treat Robellia harshly, despite her lost memories. Equally incomprehensible was the unconditional kindness Robellia showed Roxas. While their relationship had never been normal, it was now undeniably twisted and distorted. 

“The door that was locked before has been reopened, and we’ve put a safety lock on the window to prevent it from opening completely.” 

At Duke Mos’s words, Akan nodded slightly, seemingly unaware that his behaviour had changed. In the past, if Duke Mos had offered any suggestions on how to deal with Princess Robellia, Akan would no doubt have dismissed them as unnecessary. After all, hadn’t all his anger been directed at Robellia, often to an unreasonable degree? 

Whatever Akan’s feelings, they weren’t a bad sign for Duke Mos. As long as Akan didn’t lose control of Roxas and kill Princess Robellia impulsively, or as long as Robellia didn’t try to end her own life again, the Emperor would be able to carry out his duties more smoothly, even if only temporarily. As if to confirm this thought, Akan turned his attention back to the documents in front of him. 

“So you’re planning to deal with Count Meserve.” 

“Yes. It seems he’s caught on and is trying to wriggle out like a snake. It’s time to tighten the noose.” 

A significant amount of money from dubious sources had found its way into Count Meserve’s hands. The reports alone would lead anyone to suspect that he was building a private army. 

Of course, Akan had already realised the full extent of the situation. From the beginning of their plans, Akan and Duke Mos had never hidden their true intentions from each other. It was only a matter of time before Count Meserve fell into the trap that Duke Mos had carefully laid for him. Besides, the money invested would be recovered, so there was nothing to lose. The acceleration of the plan was exactly what they had hoped for. 

“Are you hesitating?” 

“Of course not.”

Akan could say it with certainty: Count Meserve was an obstacle to the plans of Duke Mos and a traitor who had fled without a second thought in the face of Duke Roxas’ downfall. He was unworthy of sympathy. 

But buried in Akan’s old memories was the image of Count Meserve visiting the distant Roxas estate to inquire about his mother’s illness. Even when Duke Roxas had relinquished all his power, Meserve had visited, purely out of personal friendship. 

Why such a memory, now meaningless after the betrayal, continued to linger was a mystery even to Akan.