“Your Majesty.”

It happened as soon as Isabel was well enough to move again—so fast it was as if she’d blinked and missed it.

There’d been no warning before Kailhart appeared at her door.

“What… what is the charge?”

Isabel managed to force the words out.

“Why are you taking my maid away like this? What crime has she committed?”

While Isabel was ill in bed, Kailhart didn’t visit her once. He didn’t say a word to her either.

For a moment, she wondered if he had stayed away out of concern for her, as Meli had gently suggested.

But that had been a foolish illusion.

“Look—right there.”

Kailhart said, gesturing with his eyes to Isabel’s feet.

Isabel’s gaze, trembling, dropped to the floor at her feet, where, scattered among the shards of broken glass, lay a slip of paper.

It was a warrant for arrest, filled with formal, rigid language, but it boiled down to this: For failing to check whether the drink given to her mistress was poisoned.

For not checking whether what I drank was poisoned?

They were going to execute Meli for something so absurd?

“N-no, it’s not like that, I—I just wanted to bring something special for the princess, since it came from overseas… I only wanted to see her happy…”

With a sharp crack, Meli’s head snapped to the side from a slap. Her face was already a mess—her lips split, her hair disheveled. Isabel’s body went rigid at the sight.

Looking at Kailhart’s face, she could tell instantly—something had irritated him.

The reason didn’t matter; it never did. There were precedents for this.

“So, what should I do, then?”

“…What?”

“What do you want me to do?”

His question was low, as if asking whether she would simply watch and do nothing, as usual. There was no emotion in his eyes as he looked down at her—nothing at all, only a chilling, unreachable emptiness.

“Your Majesty…”

A chill ran up Isabel’s spine. It was instinct. Déjà vu.

If this continued, someone would die. Because of her—someone innocent would be sacrificed, yet again.

“If you don’t like the first charge, how about this one?”

“…What?”

“Getting rid of another rat who snuck in.”

He didn’t seem amused at all by cornering her with such a cruel choice. Isabel could barely breathe as she looked at Kailhart. Even though someone’s life was hanging by a thread at his fingertips, his eyes were empty — so empty that her mind went numb.

Meli, gagged and trembling, looked desperately back and forth between Isabel and Kailhart. Isabel’s body went rigid and her eyes shook uncontrollably. With unfocused eyes, she stared first at the empty air, then at her maid, and finally at Kailhart.

“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you didn’t know there was a rat right under your nose all this time. Or maybe you’re thinking of denying it?”

Kailhart’s low, quiet words pressed even closer. Isabel clenched her trembling jaw.

Of course she knew.

How could she not?

The previous maid had been executed for a fabricated crime shortly before Meli replaced her. Isabel had seen it, even though she had tried to look away. She knew that her previous maid was Charles’s spy. It wasn’t hard to guess who her true master was.

She reported everything: Where she went, what she ate and wore each day, how many times she visited and how long she stayed for, and who she met and spoke with. She passed on every detail.

“……”

“You knew, didn’t you?”

Isabel, pale as a sheet, nodded slowly.

Her vision blurred.

As he said, Isabel had noticed the obsessive way her maid watched her: what she ate, when she slept, who she met — every detail was meticulously recorded and reported to Charles.

Isabel had noticed the secret exchanges and watched her send reports, but pretended not to know.

Nevertheless, Isabel had never truly resented that maid. Ultimately, she was only doing her job of guarding Isabel as she had been ordered to do.

“That’s right.”

It didn’t matter, anyway.

Something like that never meant anything to you, did it?

“You wouldn’t be bothered at all if one of your people were killed.”

Kailhart’s lips twisted slightly, though his face showed no emotion. Suddenly, Isabel understood.

Ah… so that’s how it is. It had always been that way.

Because I let Meli get too close—because, even though I was nothing more than a possession, I dared to act like a person.

I opened up to her, laughed like a normal person, and let her into my life as though I deserved that warmth. That’s why this was happening.

It was so obvious, and yet Isabel’s trembling fingers curled tightly into her palm.

No matter what they say about bl＊＊d never lying, the similarities between the royal family were shocking.

Even though Kailhart and Charles weren’t bl＊＊d relatives, they were just as cruel whenever it mattered most.

They cut people out and erased any trace that could come back to haunt them, treating them as if they were nothing more than loose ends.

Isabel could still see the last maid screaming for mercy, not to Kailhart, but to Charles, as she was about to be executed.

That desperate plea to be spared… Isabel squeezed her eyes shut.

“Your Majesty.”

There was nothing left to consider. Time was running out.

Isabel crumpled to her knees on the floor, as if her legs had given out.

“It was all my fault, Your Majesty.”

“……”

“Please, spare her. Please, Your Majesty, I’ll do anything—just this once, show mercy…”

She barely even knew what she was saying, clutching at Kailhart’s collar as she pleaded, her hands quickly growing damp.

Somewhere along the way, tears had started streaming down her cheeks.

“Is it really what you want?”

His voice was like a blade, and as he pulled her up from the floor, Isabel looked up, his hand cupping her cheek.

“Are you truly, desperately begging me right now?”

Kailhart’s lips twisted into a faint, cruel smile as he gazed at her tear-streaked, disheveled face.
Anyone could see the thrill in his eyes.

No matter how numb her reactions had become over the years, the pain still burned just as vividly within her.

And yet, Isabel bowed her head even lower.

“Yes, I am. I’m desperate.”

It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.

If I can use my suffering and humiliation to convince you. If it means no one else has to die—then I’ll do whatever it takes.

“Please, Your Majesty, I beg you. It’s all my fault. Please, spare Meli. Spare her, I beg you.”

Kailhart looked down at Isabel as she nodded furiously, tears blurring her vision. He let out a short, mirthless laugh. His distorted face came into view through her tear-clouded eyes.

With a small gesture, the hands dragging Meli away stopped, and Meli was thrown at Isabel’s feet.

“Thank you… Thank you…”

Isabel tried to lower her head to the ground in a deep bow, but couldn’t. Instead, Kailhart forced her trembling body upright and pressed his lips to hers. She had no choice but to accept his kiss.

“Mm—”

A dull, fleshy warmth pushed into her mouth. She took it, offering no resistance, but her lips stung.
Somewhere along the way, her lips had split open—she didn’t even know when.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

She decided she’d let herself be played with, just for now.

With a single look, he dismissed everyone in the room. Then he pulled Isabel into his arms, and she surrendered to his relentless, possessive kiss.

Tears streamed down her face and slipped into the cracks of her wounded lips, stinging them further.

But this time, she had managed to save someone’s life. That was enough for her.

A heavy sense of exhaustion washed over her, making her body go limp. Everything ached, but she pressed her face into Kailhart’s chest, finding solace there.

Although she was spending another night in Kailhart’s arms, she didn’t mind. Relief was the only thought in her head for a long time, and somewhere along the way, she lost consciousness.

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

Something cold and unyielding jolted Isabel out of her dazed state. It pressed against her calf, where fresh bruises and scrapes stung sharply, sending a wave of chill and pain through her skin.

Right, someone was pressing an ice pack to her leg—she realized as her Ssensation returned.

“Here, Princess.”

She curled her fingers tightly, and someone spoke to her.

She turned her head to find a boy seated beside her, watching her closely. His eyes were a deep, piercing violet, but his black hair cast a shadow over them.

“I’ll take care of it from here.”

As he took the ice pack from her and gently continued, his hands were careful and practiced, almost soothing.

She relaxed without meaning to.

“If it hurts, don’t just bear it—please say something.”

His voice and manner were strangely familiar. He looked so much like someone she knew well.

Who are you…? She wondered, but before she could figure it out, her mouth moved on its own.

“I’m fine. Thank you.”

She heard the faint crackle of melting ice inside the pack.

“And you don’t have to get so angry, either.”

The words tumbled out as if they’d been waiting, and a faint smile touched her lips—it was like she was under a spell.

“It’s only because I’m slow to learn that you have to scold me—”

“You’re doing just fine, Princess.”

But the boy interrupted her gently.