Lost in a sea of jealousy, Ruben startled himself with the realization. If anyone had no right to harbor such feelings for her, it was him. He knew this better than anyone. He was unworthy of even looking at her, let alone loving her. To bless her from afar would already be an act of audacious presumption. And to harbor such impure thoughts? That was beyond forgiveness.

Even so, even knowing this all too well, these feelings grew uncontrollably once awakened. His contradictory emotions thrashed endlessly, tormenting him. He shouldn’t think of her, but even without trying, his mind was filled with her. He shouldn’t let his gaze linger on her, but his eyes sought her out wherever she was. He shouldn’t touch her, but he longed to. He shouldn’t follow her, yet he always found himself chasing her shadow.

Come to think of it, this has always been the case. He hadn’t thought about her during the ten years he hadn’t seen her—because he had gone to great lengths not to. To avoid crossing paths with her, he had to remember every route that might lead to her. To avoid seeing her, he had to keep track of where she was. To hate her, he had to pour every ounce of his being into that hatred until it left him hollow.

He had plastered his feelings for her with layers of resentment and loathing. But when the tempest of emotions swept all that away, love remained pure and straightforward.

He remembered that day—the resolute steps as he turned away, the cold, unyielding back, the clenched fists that he had to keep tightly shut so he wouldn’t turn around—even now, the memory of it twisted his heart. He had hated her; he was sure of it. He couldn’t forgive her. He had felt betrayed.

How could she have done that? How could she have been so heartless, so cold? Back then, he hadn’t even wanted to know. But now he understood.

He had been afraid. Afraid that if he turned back, he would forgive her. That he would run back to her without thinking. That he would embrace her without hesitation. Because if he looked back, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. He would reach out to her.

Ah, it had all been love. I had loved you—presumptuously, audaciously.

And at the same time, he realized something else. That his punishment for such feelings would be to never voice them. It was obvious. These feelings would fester without ever finding their rightful place, eating away at him until they destroyed him. That was the penalty for his foolishness.

“Ruben.”

Ikael’s cautious voice called him back from his silence, concerned. Ruben, who had at some point closed his eyes, opened them again.

Ikael’s face came into focus, looking at him from across a desk piled high with documents. All of it—every plan, every move—was for Helia.

“Let’s continue,“ Ruben said, pushing aside the thoughts that clung to him like a shadow. In this situation, he could only focus on the tasks before him. Ikael was right: the news of her engagement was a boon for her. It gave her more options. And as long as she lived—whatever path she chose—he would be grateful.

“More choices are always good for her.“

“That’s true, but… what if she doesn’t choose us?“

Ikael’s question was hesitant, and Enoch glanced at Ruben, equally curious. Ruben gave them a faint, weary smile.

“Well, in that case, I’ll take responsibility and step aside.“

“Don’t say such scary things!“

“Even if she abandons us, don’t give up on her,“ Enoch added firmly.

Ruben let out a weak laugh. Enoch was right. How could he give up? This was the path she had risked her life to open for him. She, and no one else, had paved the road for him—crossing countless sleepless nights to bring him here. He had no choice but to keep walking, whether he wanted to or not. And Ruben Effenberg was not a man who abandoned his duties.

He dared not hope for her to walk that path with him. All he wished for now was to return to her what should have been hers. What she had been forced to relinquish. Even if the journey had taken too long, if he could place it back in her hands, that would be enough.

***

The day they departed for the Empire was crisp and clear as autumn turned to winter. The entire royal court gathered to see the delegation off.

“Then, I’ll leave it to you, Chancellor.“

“Rest assured, Your Majesty.”

Having already bid her farewells, Helia sat in her carriage, glancing out the window at the two men. She smirked. What could the king entrust to that useless man who couldn’t do anything but line his pockets? Such poor judgment—though that was typical of him. Scoffing under her breath, Helia roughly drew the curtains shut, concealing her disdain.

Her carriage was conspicuously solitary. Whether out of courtesy or refusal, no one else shared it. Even the maids assigned to accompany her traveled in separate carriages. Once they reached Pteria, the imperial maids would take over her care anyway, so the royal maids’ presence was little more than an excuse to enjoy a trip to the Empire.

Bailey and Pteria shared a border, but only a tiny section connected them. The delegation had to take a circuitous route, making the journey a two-week ordeal by carriage. Helia rarely showed herself throughout the trip, emerging only briefly to eat or rest.

For most of the fortnight, she remained confined to her carriage like a prisoner. But she was not alone in her isolation; her thoughts kept her company, thoughts she had no desire to entertain.

Whenever her mind wandered, it took her back to the Duke of Effenberg’s estate, to the starry mansion. Specifically to the moment she had awakened after nearly losing her life, only to meet Ruben Effenberg’s anguished gaze. Again and again, she was forced to confront his beautiful face, twisted in pain.

At that moment, how much she wanted to approach him, how much she wanted to reach out, how much she longed to touch him—all of that would remain as untold stories. It was her lot to embrace it all and let it vanish.

It wasn’t as though she welcomed such a fate. It was unfair and deeply frustrating. At one point, she wanted to abandon everything and run away. If it meant giving up her life in the process, she was willing to do so. But no matter how she twisted and turned, reality clung to her firmly, whispering, “You are Helia Bailey, and no matter where you flee or hide, that name will always be yours.“

Thus, the name Helia Bailey became a grave. Her unfulfilled emotions, unspoken sincerity, and unrealized ideals were all buried there. Everything that was dying was gathered under her name. As she looked back at the countless tombstones erected beside her, Helia wondered if it was worth pouring her heart into such things? Into things that would crumble and disappear anyway? The question brought with it a deep weariness. She was tired now. She just wanted to rest.

When the carriage crossed the border and finally arrived in Prea, the capital of the Pterian Empire, Helia, awakened from the long darkness, pulled back the window curtains at the sound of the bustling noise outside. A scene utterly different from Bailey’s unfolded before her eyes.

The lively and boisterous energy, the well-maintained roads, the orderly buildings, and the spirited pedestrians were interspersed with exotic faces she had rarely seen before. Unlike Bailey, where buildings had unique and sometimes disorganized appearances, this capital had a different character altogether. Helia observed the view outside with a light heart. Having crossed the border, she thought she could relax until it was time to return. There was a world without the kingdom or the revolutionary army. In this complete separation, Helia felt a sense of liberation. For a fleeting moment, she indulged in the extravagant thought that she could let her mind rest and take it easy.

Of course, that sense of ease melted away like snow the moment the carriage entered the imperial palace, and she saw Cedric, who had come to greet the delegation. She must have been momentarily bewitched by the exotic scenery to think she could afford to feel at ease while coming to meet that man.

A handsome man with platinum-blond hair smiled warmly, his gaze fixed solely on her as she stepped out of the carriage. Helia straightened her shoulders and adjusted her mindset. He was someone she could never afford to let her guard down around.

“Welcome, Your Highness.”