The silence that engulfed the Imperial Palace spread throughout the capital. 

The tyrant who had overthrown another tyrant had begun his hunt in earnest. This was Akan’s order to Duke Mos to speed up the pace. Since the Emperor was an unpredictable force even to the Duke, he willingly obeyed the order. Fearing Duke Mos’s sharp fangs, the nobles held their breath to avoid being noticed. 

But holding their breath wasn’t enough to save their lives. The Emperor and the Duke selected the nobles according to their own inscrutable criteria. Since no one understood these criteria, bribery or currying favour proved useless. Many were unaware that they were being targeted and fell helplessly into traps, only to be killed. 

The prisons were always full and the execution grounds never saw a day without blood. 

Every morning, Akan awoke from nightmares, and except for fleeting moments, he didn’t have time to think about Robellia. The palace was like a giant clock that kept ticking, whether its master paid attention to it or not. 

Even today, as Akan sat in his office reviewing the list of those marked for death, he suddenly looked up. 

A small bird perched on the windowsill for a moment, chirped softly and then flew off into the sky. Sunlight streamed into the room through the open window. Akan, oblivious to the passage of time, suddenly realised that the seasons had changed.

In Duke Mos’s absence, Akan turned to the steward for answers.

“What about Robellia?”

Normally it was Duke Mos who delivered reports on behalf of the Emperor, who rarely spoke. Naturally, the Chamberlain assumed that the Emperor already knew all the details and replied promptly.

The Emperor rarely spoke, so Duke Mos had always been the one to receive reports. Naturally, the chamberlain assumed that the Emperor was already fully informed and replied promptly. 

“She’s the same as always. Forcing her to eat has its limits, so the doctor prepared a new medicine for her today.” 

“What?” 

It was a question asked without any particular intention. Given the lack of reports, Akan had assumed that Robellia was getting by quietly, no different from a piece of furniture left to gather dust in the palace. 

The steward was even more puzzled than Akan. While Duke Mos was effectively running the palace – and perhaps the entire empire – the Steward was simply carrying out his duties diligently. Looking after the exiled Princess Robellia in her secluded quarters was just one of his duties. 

The steward read the reports in reverse order, answering Akan’s questions. As the report progressed, the Emperor’s expression grew stern. Even if Akan was considered Duke Mos’s puppet, it was undeniable that he still had the authority to end anyone’s life at will. Fully aware of this, the steward carefully revealed every detail.

“She was looking for her personal belongings, so I informed Duke Mos and handed them over with his approval. Since her condition is not good, we’re watching her closely to make sure she doesn’t have any harmful thoughts…”

Having heard everything, Akan felt a wave of irritation.

They were saying that Robellia was “broken”, even though she was being treated much better than before.

While he had prevented her from leaving the palace unnoticed, he hadn’t strictly confined her to her chambers. He had removed the male attendants and appointed maids to look after her. From Akan’s point of view, being fed and treated like a pampered pig was an indulgence far beyond what Robellia deserved.

But Robellia seemed to have forgotten how to eat or speak, and shut herself away in her own world. A doctor was called several times to see if she had lost her mind again, but other than her refusal to speak, there was nothing to treat. 

The chief physician, under the orders of Duke Mos, worked tirelessly to keep the princess alive. Now he feared that his efforts might go against the Emperor’s wishes. That would mean he was serving two masters. 

But Akan wasn’t particularly angry with Duke Mos. After all, keeping Robellia alive was driven by his own unresolved hatred, for which he could find no escape. He wanted to keep her breathing, at least for now, until he decided how to stage the final act of revenge on the day his plans reached their conclusion. 

“I’ll go myself.” 

But a certain assumption spurred Akan into action. 

Could it be – just maybe, even by the slightest chance – that Robellia had regained her memories? Of her sins and the chain of vengeance that had unfolded because of them?

The vision of white nightgown hems passed Akan’s eyes. He couldn’t understand why it mattered, but somewhere deep in his heart an uneasy feeling took root. The only thing he knew for sure was that he didn’t want it to matter. 

For the first time in a long time, Akan reluctantly made his way to the princess’s palace. 

“Akan…?” 

He opened the door to find Robellia sitting on the carpet like a child. So much for not speaking – those demands were nonsense. Akan frowned, his brow furrowed. 

Suddenly Robellia sprang to her feet. Beneath the crumpled hem of her dress, something she had been fiddling with moments before was now visible on the floor. 

It was something Akan hadn’t seen in an incredibly long time – a deck of cards. The very ones that the young Robellia used to play with incessantly. Each card had matching pairs of pictures on one side, meant to be turned over and matched one by one. 

The vivid memory of the forgotten past came rushing back and Akan’s face stiffened, his expression turning to stone. 

“Have you come to see me?”

Her eyes seemed to gauge his reaction, but a faint smile played on her lips. Akan felt his stomach churn with irritation. Had he really come all this way just to confirm something so trivial? 

As Akan took half a step back, Robellia’s eyes flickered with unease. The faint ripples on the surface of her gaze seemed ready to spill over with a single strong gust of wind. 

“Are you going to…?” 

A cold gust of wind stirred in Akan’s chest, unsettling him as it passed through. 

The current Robellia was no different than a blank canvas – empty, devoid of anything. Whatever colour Akan chose to paint it, it would inevitably absorb it. The problem was, Akan didn’t even know what he wanted. 

“No.” 

At his unexpected answer, Robellia broke into a broad smile. Without another word, Akan sat down in the chair by the table. 

Robellia began to pick up the scattered cards at her feet, one by one. Judging by her childish behaviour, it was clear that she hadn’t regained her memories at all.

Akan was suddenly surprised. He had hated her for so long, yet he had only met young Robellia once. What kind of person was she? What kind of life had she led?

Robellia stacked the worn cards into a neat pile and stood up. Akan watched her in silence, his gaze fixed on her movements. Noticing his unwavering gaze, Robellia was the first to speak. 

“Pathetic, isn’t it?” 

“What is?” 

Robellia placed the deck of cards on a shelf in the cupboard. The cupboard had been filled with items that had been taken when Akan had taken the Imperial Palace and were now being returned. 

Dolls, playing cards, collections of poetry and random novels – their belongings, touched by time, were old and shabby. Far from treasures fit for a princess, they seemed pitiful. The cabinet looked more like a coffin to mourn the dead than a display of precious keepsakes. 

After closing the cabinet, Robellia sat down opposite Akan. At a glance from him, a maid quickly brought out a tea set. 

A faint sound echoed as crimson tea was poured into a silver teacup. To prevent any dangerous actions, porcelain tableware had long been banned in the princess’s palace. Robellia was the first to raise her teacup. 

“I, who behave like a child…” 

Robellia’s face grew redder than the tea in her cup. Even if she was aware of the passage of time by looking at her body, it would be difficult to behave in a manner befitting her age with her fragmented memories. Especially since she had grown up sheltered in the greenhouse of the Imperial Palace. There was an unmistakable awkwardness in her every expression, every gesture, childlike and naive. Just like before. 

“You know… I’m so happy. I was lonely, but you came to see me…” 

“Do you want to leave the palace?”