Akan interrupted her ramblings abruptly. Was it because he was in a hurry? The words came out impulsively, so much so that even he hadn’t considered whether he really meant them. 

But once spoken, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Though he still had nightmares and remained angry, facing Robellia now didn’t stir up the uncontrollable rage it once had. 

At the moment, Robellia wasn’t someone he wanted to harm, but someone who simply irritated him. And that irritation was unsettling. Perhaps it would be better to move her somewhere out of sight, where she would still be within reach but wouldn’t bother him until the day when everything finally came to an end. 

Perhaps surprised by his unexpected words, Robellia’s eyes widened. Akan, uninterested in her reaction, continued his thoughts. Should he instruct Duke Mos to find a secluded residence in the capital to imprison her? 

“There’s nothing for you to do here anyway.”

He had assumed Robellia would be happy. Better to be tied to a new kennel outside the palace than to wither away like an unpullled weed in some forgotten corner of the Imperial Palace. 

But instead, a strange glow appeared in Robellia’s bluish-violet eyes, which soon filled with tears. Was she about to cry, like the child she resembled? The thought exhausted Akan and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. That should have been left to the Duke. 

Robellia, who had been muttering, finally forced herself to speak. 

“Am I… really so useless…?” 

Akan couldn’t follow the logic of her thoughts. His eyebrows furrowed as confusion spread across his face. Before he could answer, Robellia suddenly erupted like a waterfall, tears and words pouring out in a torrent. 

“My father said a princess was only useful if she married into a good family… but for Akan, I… I’m of no use at all. That’s why – because I’m useless – you want me to leave, right?” 

Robellia’s words were jumbled and drowned in her sobs, making them hard to understand. Akan had to sift through her ramblings several times before he managed to catch her meaning. 

She was talking about arranged marriages. The late Emperor had raised all his children, except the Crown Prince, as commodities to be married off. Akan knew this well, but to hear it directly from Robellia was a first. Perhaps it was because he had executed all of Robellia’s siblings who had married within the Empire without so much as an interrogation. 

If Robellia’s life of luxury in the palace had been no different to that of slaves traded as mere commodities, it was a thought that seemed too far-fetched. Akan quickly dismissed the thought that had briefly crossed his mind. 

He wasn’t sure how Robellia interpreted his silence, but she continued on her own. 

“Even though we’re friends, right now I’m just taking from you without giving anything back… so…” 

Akan couldn’t listen any longer. His patience had run out. As he rose from his seat, Robellia, who had been sobbing, frantically wiped away her tears. 

“Are you angry?” 

“No.” 

It wasn’t even worth being angry. No one in their right mind would cling to the person who killed their father and talk such nonsense. Just as Akan was about to leave the room for good, Robellia grabbed his sleeve. 

Akan stopped abruptly. Her fragile grip wasn’t strong, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. Perhaps because she stirred a memory he’d rather forget. 

“I’m sorry, Akan. Please don’t go… I’m really so lonely.” 

Her tearful eyes, glistening with moisture, were clouded with loneliness and desolation – a heavy fog of negative emotions that seemed ready to suffocate her. Strangely, it seemed even more precarious than the despair he had seen in her before. 

And beyond that fog, there was a pure, unconditional warmth and trust. It was this that truly suffocated Akan, as if it were robbing him of his ability to breathe. 

The current Robellia was far too ignorant and harmless to be easily hated. Somewhere deep inside Akan, a loud alarm bell rang in warning. Suddenly, he grabbed her throat with one hand. 

“Ugh-A… Akan… kuh, huh-” 

Robellia struggled desperately, clawing at his hand with her nails, but Akan’s grip only tightened. 

Her reddened eyes seemed to ignite her entire face, turning it a frightening shade of crimson. Tears, which hadn’t yet stopped, streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks, leaving lines on her jaw. 

As Akan lifted his hand higher, Robellia, who had been balancing precariously on her toes, found her feet slowly leaving the ground. Even then, Akan didn’t release his grip on her neck. 

Finally, her resistance ceased with a sudden, ominous stillness. The hands that had been clutching desperately fell limply to her sides. The wide, panicked eyes that had been darting around began to close, as if surrendering to the inevitability of her death. 

When Akan finally let go, her body crumpled to the ground in an instant. Gasping for air, Robellia coughed violently, tears streaming uncontrollably from her swollen eyes. 

Akan looked down at her with cold, unyielding eyes, his expression devoid of any warmth or remorse.

“Ah… Akan… huff, ha…” 

Robellia clung desperately to Akan’s leg, tears and saliva spilling uncontrollably. Disgusted, as if touched by filth, Akan stepped back and turned away immediately. 

“Don’t go… Akan, please…” 

He didn’t look back. Robellia’s pitiful sobs seeped through the still-open door, clinging to the sound of his retreating footsteps like a sticky residue. It was like sinking into a swamp – everything went wrong. 

—

Duke Mos’s headache had reached its peak. Akan Roxas was throwing the whole plan into disarray. Or perhaps it was Princess Robellia who did it. 

For a while, Akan had been worryingly quiet. But since his visit to the princess’s quarters, he had become dangerously volatile. 

The smoldering rage he hadn’t quite extinguished festered within him, blackening his mind. Even breathing felt suffocating. The layers of dark emotion that had accumulated in his chest fed his growing rage, which swelled and began to erupt in uncontrollable bursts.   

It began with the palace servants. Already sensitive to the slightest sound, the Emperor had completely lost his patience. 

“I told you. Be quiet.” 

The maids were sprawled on the floor before the seething emperor, trembling with fear. Their only crime had been to chatter in the hallway, unaware that the door had been left open. 

They hadn’t uttered a single disrespectful word, but the mere fact that they had made noise made them fear what punishment might await them. Hadn’t a servant had his hands crushed to the bone the day before for dropping a cup? It couldn’t be ruled out that their tongues would meet a similar fate. 

“Your Majesty, please…” 

The chief attendant appeared – a figure who seemed to be the maids’ only saviour. In the absence of Duke Mos, the only person capable of managing the Emperor’s unpredictable rage, the Chief Attendant was their last hope. 

“I will take the punishment in your place.”

A man well past his prime begging for mercy on behalf of trembling servants was not a sight Akan found particularly pleasing. 

A tyrant in behaviour and now a true tyrant in action, Akan thought bitterly. There would be no denying the title. 

Akan waved his hand irritably, signalling his dismissal. The maids quickly rose and fled at the subtle sign from the chief attendant. 

“I will see that they are properly warned.”

Akan looked down at him with indifferent eyes before turning away. 

At least there had been no bloodshed, and for that the chief attendant breathed a small sigh of relief. Everyone who served around the current Emperor came from families loyal to Duke Mos. Even now, the Duke was out of the palace, trying to placate the heads of households whose servants had suffered under the Emperor’s punishments. 

But if this incident had settled the matter once and for all… 

“Urgh!” 

Duke Mos could hardly believe what he saw. Walking down the corridor after the meeting, Akan suddenly grabbed a guard’s sword and stabbed him in the thigh. 

The Duke, standing beside him, hadn’t heard a single sound from the guard that could have provoked Akan. The guard had been silent – through no fault of his own. 

“Your Majesty… what is the meaning of this…?”

“He smiled.”

Akan replied nonchalantly, throwing the bloodstained sword to the ground. 

Their eyes had met and the guard had smiled. That alone was the reason for the stabbing. 

Akan Roxas really had lost his mind. 

Duke Mos, his face pale as a sheet, spoke hurriedly. 

“Fetch the doctor at once!” 

“Y-yes, sir!”