At last, Karsten spoke the words he had kept buried so deeply within him.

“I want you by my side, Breti.”

Not as his sister’s stand-in, but as a woman—this was Karsten’s most earnest truth.

Nestled quietly in his arms, Breti felt her heart plummet at his words.

“Just now… what do you mean…”

Karsten gently drew her from his embrace and met her eyes. Seeing the tears streaked around them, he brushed them away with the edge of his sleeve before speaking again.

“Not as Laterna’s stand in, but as a woman.”

“…”

“I want you to remain at my side as a woman.”

A woman. Not a proxy, but a woman.

Breti pressed her trembling lips together, steadying her voice before she spoke slowly.

“Is it true…”

“Hm?”

“Is that all right?”

‘Am I really allowed this?’

“To stay by Your Highness’s side… as a woman?”

‘Not as a doll to play the part of your sister, but as a woman—could I be that?’

Reading the desperate plea in her heart, Karsten gave a small nod.

“Yes. If that’s what you wish, then you may—always, Breti.”

At his answer, tears spilled anew down her cheeks. Karsten said nothing, simply wiping away the endless stream.

“Breti.”

When at last her tears had subsided, he called her name.

At the sound, Breti slowly lifted her head.

“Close your eyes.”

With those few words, his lips found hers.

The warmth of his kiss touched her, and a smile broke faintly across her lips, mingled with tears.

‘Your Highness, and my heart…’

‘…are one.’

There was no need to anxiously yearn for his affection any longer.

On a night without rain, after discovering his true feelings, Breti experienced an overwhelming emotion that was almost indescribable.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and, as if he had been waiting for it, Karsten pressed his lips firmly against hers.

That night, they did not return to the ducal estate. Instead, they took lodgings at a nearby inn.

The moment they entered the room, Karsten pushed Breti against the wall and claimed her lips in a fervent kiss.

Their embrace became even more intense inside.

At first Breti faltered at the suddenness of his advance, but soon she clung to his neck, seeking more of his touch.

Thump, thump—whose heartbeat it was, she could not tell, but it echoed between them.

After a long, breathless kiss, Karsten drew back, resting his forehead gently against hers.

“Breti.”

“Haa…”

Breti panted softly as she met his gaze.

His gaze was drawn to her reddened lips, and he felt the weight of desire tighten low in his body. He furrowed his brow faintly as he struggled to rein it in.

“I won’t force you.”

“…”

“I’ll take my time… slowly, slowly, I’ll come to you.”

At his words of restraint, her heart swelled until it threatened to overflow. Unlike Adrian’s sudden and reckless touch, Karsten’s gentleness—both his words and his actions—knocked again and again at the door of her heart.

Closing her eyes, Breti gave a small shake of her head.

“I want you, Your Highness.”

‘I want you. Not just your body, but all of you. Please—give yourself to me completely, tonight.’

Their lips met once more, kissing with an urgent hunger.

Karsten bit lightly at her lower lip as he swept her into his arms, then laid her upon the bed and claimed the space above her.

For the briefest instant, their eyes locked in the air.

“I want you too.”

“…”

“Breti, I want you.”

On that night when her desire met his, their hearts touched as one, and time flowed on.

💙💙💙 💙💙💙

In the silence of the night, without so much as a hint of movement, someone in a black hood slipped hurriedly into the capital’s largest garrison.

Once inside, Jerron scanned his surroundings before striding towards the underground prison.

Upon reaching it, he handed a heavy pouch of coins to the guard stationed at the entrance.

“Ten minutes.”

“Understood.”

Pocketing the bribe, the guard gestured to his companion and quickly disappeared.

Jerron pulled back his hood and walked to the innermost cell.

There sat Heremon, once the master of the Rediac Merchant Company, now a wretched figure. Jerron clicked his tongue in disdain, tapping the bars with his fingers.

Startled by the sound, Heremon rushed forward and clutched at the iron door.

“Master!”

“How long has it been since our bond was broken? Why are you calling me that?”

Ever since the garrison captured and imprisoned Heremon underground, Jerron had severed all ties with him.

Ultimately, all deeds were deemed to be Heremon’s alone, and he was held entirely responsible. He was sentenced to a lifetime of hard labor. He would soon be sent north.

Jerron had only agreed to visit Heremon because he had begged to see him before being taken away.

“So? What is it you wished to say? What was so important that you summoned me here?”

“That day… the Duke of White said something to me.”

“What did he say?”

“I’ll tell you—but only if you promise to have my sentence reduced.”

Heremon clung desperately to Jerron’s trousers, but Jerron shook him off with a look of disgust.

“I’ll decide after I hear it. Speak. What did the Duke of White say?”

Glancing around warily, Heremon began to whisper.

“He said… that among those involved in this matter is none other than Her Majesty the Empress. And…”

“And?”

“He said that much more about His Highness the Crown Prince is concealed than revealed.”

At those words, Jerron’s fingertips gave a slight tremor. It did not escape Heremon’s notice.

He once again seized Jerron’s trousers, clinging pathetically.

“See? I’ve told you something of great importance, haven’t I, Master?”

Jerron quickly brushed him off, hiding his hand within his hooded cloak as he cleared his throat.

“Come in.”

At his command, several knights appeared.

Startled, Heremon stumbled back.

“Make sure this man never speaks to anyone again. Cut out his tongue and cut off his hands.”

“Yes, sir.”

“M-Master? Wh-what is this…!”

Heremon tried in vain to protest, but the knights were already stepping into the cell.

“Consider yourself lucky that I’ve spared your life.”

With those cruel words, Jerron turned swiftly and left the dungeon.

“Aaagh! Aaaaagh!”

Heremon’s wretched screams echoed behind him, but Jerron did not look back.

“D*mn it.”

Once outside the garrison, he pulled his hood low over his face, muttering a curse beneath his breath.

💙💙💙 💙💙💙

Meanwhile, even at this late hour, the lights of the Pophia Palace were still burning.

Eglet had not yet gone to bed. Restless, she paced back and forth until a sudden knock at the door made her flinch.

“Your Majesty.”

It was the voice of Lady Cage, her chief lady-in-waiting.

“Come In.”

As she approached the door, Eglet pressed a hand secretly to her chest in relief. As soon as Lady Cage entered, Eglet snatched the scroll from her hands.

As she read through the contents, her expression turned to ice.

“So. Our Duke of White knows far too much.”

“…”

“Then it seems it’s time for him to disappear.”

At those words, the color drained from Lady Cage’s face.

Eglet walked to the table, drew out a fresh sheet of parchment, and began writing swiftly. Lady Cage watched her with uneasy eyes.

“Your Majesty.”

“What is it?”

Lady Cage hesitated, then spoke.

“I fear for you.”

“Fear?”

“I worry… that Your Majesty might be harmed.”

“Laila.”

At the sound of Eglet calling her by name, Lady Cage bit down hard on her lower lip and fell silent.

“The only time I’ll be harmed is if something stands in the way of Fedriol’s path forward.”

“…Yes, Your Majesty.”

“You may leave.”

With a bow of respect, Lady Cage withdrew from the chamber.

Eglet’s face, bent over the parchment as she wrote, showed not the slightest trace of guilt.