“It’s true.”

Yes, from now on, that was the truth. It had to be. The Marquis of Klein had assassinated the Queen. She had witnessed it herself. It was a perfectly straightforward fact. Yet the weight of it crushed her.

She suppressed the urge to throw herself into the boy’s arms, to cling to him and cry out her fears, confessing the truth of what had happened and how terrified she was to endure it alone. But she clenched her teeth and held back. This was her burden to carry.

When she spoke again, her voice was resolute, as if she were making a vow to herself. The crisis had come, and she had overcome it. She could endure it—she had to because now she was the cruelest person in the world.

“If that’s the case, please allow me to see my master one last time. I ask for nothing else.”

“…”

“As your sworn knight, I beg of you.”

“…”

“Please…”

The boy’s desperate plea seared her heart. How she wished she could grant him anything he desired. But the answer had already been decided. She was about to pierce his heart with another cruel blade.

“Take out Duke Effenberg.”

“Your Highness!”

Her voice rang out cold and merciless, even to her own ears. Unable to bear watching him leave, she turned her head away. Even after the door closed, he remained outside, motionless, crying out in despair. She listened in silence from the other side of the door, unmoving.

You’ve done well. I’ve done well. She repeated this to herself countless times, yet her chest felt as if it might burst. Never before had she been so desperately thankful that her feelings remained hidden from others.

That afternoon, Marquis Dekar Klein was executed. The execution site was closed to the nobility and attended only by King Rigel, the Marquis, the girl, and the executioner. The girl recounted the “truth“ she had witnessed with unwavering composure. The king, deeming it unworthy of further inquiry, ordered the execution to proceed.

The girl never turned back to look at Marquis Dekar, not even at the end. It wasn’t a sight suitable for someone of her tender age, but Dekar knew why she refused to look. Thus, the girl missed the faint smile that graced his lips just before his death.

Rigel, however, witnessed everything. His deep golden eyes, which had seemed bored, now glimmered with faint amusement.

“Follow me, Princess,“ he commanded.

The girl flinched and looked up at him in surprise. Though she was already exhausted, her entire body tensed again. She wanted to run away, but instead, she focused all her strength on her legs and followed Rigel straight back.

He said nothing until the two were alone in the audience chamber, with the doors shut behind them. Then, his first words struck like a cruel blow.

“Why aren’t you dead?”

She couldn’t answer. In her memory, Rigel had rarely spoken directly to her. His voice was always directed at others while she silently stood by, listening. Now, for the first time, he was addressing her directly—and the first words he spoke were a reproach for still being alive.

“I thought the Queen would handle it well. Useless.”

“…”

“Still, she was a rather clever woman. She screamed that she’d rather bite off her tongue than remain the wife of a monster like me—and she actually went and died not long after.”

Rigel chuckled as if recounting an amusing tale. The girl remained silent.

He had no intention of hiding anything anymore. After all, what hadn’t he already done to achieve this moment? Betraying a life, inflicting wounds on someone precious to him—how much more had to be sacrificed?

The weight of utter helplessness choked the girl like the entire universe had turned its back on her.

“Dying wasn’t a bad choice, but there’s something unsatisfying about it,“ Rigel continued. “For someone who didn’t even play the role of a mother properly, she sure went and died on her own.“

“Why…“ the girl’s voice trembled. She couldn’t tell if it was out of anger, shock, or sheer terror. Perhaps it was an instinctive reaction to standing before the harbinger of death.

“Because she was my beloved wife.”

Rigel smiled as he said it. His words were as lifeless as if he were discussing a worthless object.

“Anything precious inevitably becomes a weakness. And weaknesses are a bother—they invite vermin who think they can use them to control me.”

Lies.

Rigel had never truly cherished anything. Only something dear can become a vulnerability. Yet, even as she cursed him inwardly, she couldn’t deny the truth of his logic. The idea that her father spoke of love and weakness while being willing to discard anyone and anything was repulsive.

Unconsciously, she bit her lip hard enough to taste blood. If only she could purge the blood of this man coursing through her veins.

Rigel looked down at her impassively as she glared at him in silence. Then he let out a scoff.

“What, do my eyes look black to you?”

Her heart plummeted. His dark golden eyes clearly held a mocking glint as they gazed down at her. The girl nearly collapsed, her legs trembling beneath her.

That secret was known only to her and her grandfather. She had promised never to reveal it to anyone, keeping her silence out of respect for the man who had made her vow. Yet now, it was clear who had betrayed her. There was no need to ask.

Her pale face drained even further of color. Watching her with evident enjoyment, Rigel continued speaking without wiping the smirk from his lips.

“Thanks to that, I almost didn’t ascend the throne. Staying quiet and dull for so long nearly drove me mad.”

“…”

“But, well, this was bound to happen eventually.”

Rigel poured wine into a glass resting on a nearby table, his tone light as if he were simply making conversation. The wine, sliding past his lips, resembled blood, and the sound of it felt like a scream. The girl hugged herself. Though the room was windless, a chilling cold seeped into her bones, and she began to shiver uncontrollably.

Ah, her kind and gentle grandfather. To her, he had been a beloved elder. But to him, she had been a daughter’s child before she was his granddaughter. She had trusted him more than her father, yet he had loved his son more than his granddaughter.

“Let me ask you again,“ Rigel said.

“…”

“Do you still want to live?”

It wasn’t just a question—it felt like a warning or a final chance. Perhaps he was offering her the illusion of a choice between life and death, knowing full well she had no option but to choose life. Rigel undoubtedly understood this. His question was mockery, nothing more. To one person, despair and anguish became a game for another. Realizing this truth was a chilling revelation.

“I…“ Her voice trembled. She paused, drawing a deep breath to steady her pounding heart. The following words would be her final resolution in front of this man.

“I want to live.”

Rigel smirked as if he had expected nothing else. The cruelty of his smile was staggering—she had never realized a human expression could be so merciless.

He looked at her like a predator playing with its prey, savoring its fear. In comparison, a beast that ends its victim’s suffering with a swift bite seemed almost kind.

“I don’t usually keep weaknesses around,“ Rigel said casually.

“…”

“But if that’s your choice, let’s see how long you can survive.”

His golden eyes gleamed darkly, glinting with malice. He swirled the wine in his glass, speaking softly as though it were a casual remark.

“Alright. Let’s make a bet.”

“…”

“If you survive until the day I die, I’ll give you the throne.”

“Is that true?“

“Are you doubting me?”

The girl stared at Rigel in shock. She couldn’t believe what she had just heard. If she survived, the throne would be hers? If such a thing were possible, the first queen in the continent’s history might emerge from Bailey.

“You seem happy.“

“…”

Rigel chuckled softly as he observed Helia. She felt a shiver run down her spine, goosebumps rising on her arms. Instinctively, she realized that this so-called bet was not a promise of hope but a harbinger of something far darker.

“Yes, that’s right. You’d better do your best to stay alive. Dying too easily wouldn’t be any fun, would it?”

Ah, so that’s how it is.

Helia felt no despair in the face of such absolute power. Instead, she was overwhelmed by a profound sense of helplessness. Rigel hadn’t spared her life. He simply hadn’t killed her yet. And he would continue killing her—bit by bit.

The girl closed her eyes. She wished, at that moment, for someone to sink their teeth into her throat and end it all immediately.

✥✥✥

“Just as you said, I survived.”

Words that would reach no one scattered into the void.

‘Yes, I survived. But what does that even mean? I’m merely alive, incapable of creating the world you envisioned. I endured to survive, and yet nothing remains.‘

‘Whatever it was you saw in me, you were wrong. You shouldn’t have placed your hopes or your dreams for the future on me.‘

“Even if you saw me now, would you still tell me to live like you did back then?”

Helia smiled faintly. A cold breeze swept across the graveyard, rustling through the stillness. No one answered her, so silence lingered after her question. But she already knew the answer.