The night she heard the news from the Marquis of Etro, Eglet went to see her husband, the Emperor, Raician.

Raician was seated at his desk in the imperial study. Eglet approached with light, deliberate steps, gently stroking his shoulder as she leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“Your Majesty, there’s a rumor that the Duke of White was attacked and killed in the southwest.”

Raician gave no reaction, answering in a low, even voice.

“That’s nothing but a rumor, Empress.”

“Rumors don’t spread for no reason, Your Majesty.”

As her voice slipped into his ear, Raician’s brow furrowed.

“If you ignore rumors, they can come back to haunt you in the worst way.”

The tone of her words made it sound as if the rumors were true—and that she herself was their source.

Raician knew well that Eglet had always been wary of the House of White. He also understood that her reason was the safety of her own son, the Crown Prince, Fedriol.

Whenever trouble or war arose, the first house the Emperor relied upon was always House White. It wasn’t just that their knights far surpassed those of the imperial order, but above all, it was the Duke’s genius for strategy and tactics that made House White indispensable. When House White stepped in, conflicts and wars ended swiftly and always in overwhelming victory—so much so that Karsten had amassed many supporters.

This, Eglet could not abide. In her eyes, such praise and devotion should belong to Fedriol, not Karsten. It was why she watched House White so closely, and always kept her guard up against them.

Suppressing a sigh, Raician pressed his aching forehead.

“Empress, it’s late. You should return to Pophia Palace now.”

“Your Majesty, we are husband and wife. How could you send me away alone at this hour?”

Eglet stroked his arm with calculated affection. Though she was the mother of a grown son, her beauty still turned heads—her allure drew the gaze of any man.

But not Raician. To him, she was invisible.

“You should go. I still have much state business to attend to.”

He barely finished speaking before a harsh fit of coughing wracked his body.

“Your Majesty, what’s wrong—!”

Eglet cried out in alarm, but Raician’s cough wouldn’t stop. He hurriedly grabbed the bell and rang for help.

Immediately, the imperial physician entered the study from where he’d been waiting outside.

“Y-Your Majesties.”

“What’s happening to His Majesty right now?”

“His Majesty’s asthma has worsened recently.”

“Empress, please… cough, cough, step outside for now. Cough!“

“Your Majesty, please, if I could just—let me check His Majesty’s condition…”

With a pale face, Eglet finally stepped out of the study. Even after leaving, she stood frozen in the hallway, unable to move. She flinched at every cough that echoed from inside, anxiously pacing in front of the door.

She had no idea how long she waited before she finally heard footsteps approaching. Eglet turned her head sharply, her nerves stretched thin.

“Ah…”

The person who came into view was none other than the Second Prince, Gabriel.

Eglet’s face instantly turned cold.

“I didn’t realize Mother was here.”

At the sound of the word “Mother,” her expression grew even darker. When Gabriel stopped in front of her, Eglet slapped him hard across the face.

“Don’t call me that—don’t you dare call me ‘Mother.’”

“…I’m sorry.”

Gabriel replied quietly, bowing his head. He didn’t even seem surprised, as if he was used to it.

“What brings you here?”

“I came to wish His Majesty good health this evening.”

“If that’s all it is, you may go. His Majesty isn’t well right now.”

“His asthma has been worse lately—is that the reason?”

At his question, Eglet’s gaze grew even fiercer.

“And how would you know that?”

“His Majesty has been coughing a lot lately. I just thought… maybe his asthma was getting worse…”

“Have you been visiting His Majesty often lately?”

Eglet’s voice dropped, cold and sharp.

Sensing the change in her tone, Gabriel hesitated, looking uncomfortable as he tried to answer.

“Ha! Did your father only desire you because you look like your mother? When he looks at you, is it you he longs for, or her?”

“…That’s not it. I only…”

“Enough. I can’t stand the sight of you. Get out of my sight—now!”

“…Yes, ma’am.”

With her cold dismissal, Gabriel bowed his head and left. As he exited the palace where the Emperor resided, a weary sigh escaped his lips.

“Haa…”

It was nothing new; he’d grown used to Eglet’s misplaced anger over the years.

Gratia Weber used to work as a maid for the household of the future King Raician. She devoted herself to her palace duties and ultimately won Raician’s heart.

However, the Pensia Empire had a strict law forbidding both royalty and nobility from marrying commoners. In the end, Eglet, who had never truly won Raician’s heart, became Empress and enjoyed all the power and privilege that came with it. Meanwhile, Gratia was reduced to nothing more than a woman who had briefly captured the emperor’s affections.

Still, Raician’s devotion to Gratia never wavered. She seemed happy, as if his love was all she needed.

Then the Empress bore the Emperor’s first son, and Gratia’s position became even more precarious. Yet the Emperor’s affection was still reserved for Gratia alone, and the following year, she gave birth to Gabriel.

But, sadly, Gratia died in childbirth.

After her death, the Emperor cherished the son she left behind—Gabriel—even more, perhaps even more than his first son and heir, Fedriol.

Ever since, Eglet did everything she could to drive Gabriel out of the palace. But Raician cared for Gabriel so deeply that he promised Eglet her own son, Fedriol, would remain Crown Prince—if only she would allow Gabriel to be registered as her son as well. Eglet, seeing no other way, reluctantly agreed.

“How dare you go against your brother?”

From a young age, Gabriel quickly realized he was treated very differently from his older brother, Fedriol. At first, he felt bitter about this unfairness, but after learning the truth about his own birth, he simply kept his head down and lived quietly.

Even when he excelled at something, he pretended not to. If he liked something, he acted indifferent. Most of all, he made sure to show no interest in the throne. That was how he survived.

But lately, Raician had been calling Gabriel to his side every night.

“You’re the spitting image of your mother.”

Raician would often look at Gabriel and long for Gratia, who no longer existed in this world. Gabriel sometimes felt a pang of pity when he watched him.

“Mother…”

Gabriel looked up at the sky, calling out to the woman who’d brought him into this world. He knew she would never answer, but saying her name was his way of easing the loneliness inside him.

“I believe that for those left behind, the greatest way to love someone who has passed is simply to live on—to survive, no matter what.”

Latena’s words echoed in his mind. Remembering her voice, Gabriel let out a small laugh. The worry and gloom that had darkened his face melted away, replaced by something more peaceful.

“That’s right. I have to survive.”

💙💙💙 💙💙💙

Early the next morning, Eglet made her way to the Emperor’s chambers as soon as she woke.

‘Today, I need to check his condition myself.’

The night before, Eglet hadn’t been able to see the Emperor before returning to her quarters. That left her uneasy, and she now walked the halls with anxious, heavy steps.

“Are you sure…?”

“I’m telling you, it’s true!”

But today, the maids in Pophia Palace were unusually noisy.

“I saw His Grace, the Duke of White, at the marketplace yesterday!”

Their voices—already tense from Eglet’s own nerves—rang sharply in her ears.

‘What?’

Eglet changed course, striding over to them.

“Your Majesty…!”

The maids, caught up in their gossip, quickly bowed their heads in greeting.

“What were you just talking about?”

“Pardon?”

“It sounded like a very interesting story.”

Eglet said, her face gentle and benign.

“Um, well…”

The maids, well aware of Eglet’s fiery temper, hesitated to speak. They all feared what might happen if they said the wrong thing.

“How dare you be rude to Her Majesty the Empress? Speak up at once!”

With a sharp scold from Lady Cage, the Empress’s head attendant, the maids straightened up, tense and flustered.

“We heard that His Grace the Duke of White is still alive.”

“Y-yes! She said she saw His Grace at the market yesterday!”