“Her Majesty the Empress must take responsibility.”

It was already her second miscarriage. Responsibility? What utter nonsense. As if the grief of losing a child wasn’t enough, the retainers dared to wag their tongues as they pleased.

“The royal physician said Her Majesty can no longer conceive.”

The Empress, known far and wide for her cruelty, sat silently with an expression that said, ‘Just try me. Go ahead and see what happens.’

“With the political situation already unstable, if there’s no heir, His Majesty will face many difficulties. He might even fail to realize his grand vision of unification.”

Duke Maistrock, who had been speaking on behalf of the others, swallowed hard as he glanced around nervously.

“Or perhaps… His Majesty should consider taking a concubine, as the deposed king of Blanverque once did.”

At those words, the Empress’s fingers—previously tapping lightly on the armrest—came to a halt. A crimson smile slowly formed on Empress Kyla’s lips as she stared out the window.

“D-Duke! That suggestion is far too—!”

“How could you say such a thing in front of Her Majesty?!”

The retainers leapt up in protest, gauging the Empress’s reaction. They had turned a blind eye long enough—it was becoming unbearable.

Kyla let out a dry scoff and raised an eyebrow with sharp contempt. That smirk alone was enough to steal glances from a few of the retainers.

With silver-white hair and sapphire-blue eyes, even the twisted curl of her lips oozed a cold, perfect beauty.

“Do as you wish.”

“…Ah.”

Duke Maistrock let out a faint gasp, clearly not expecting her response. Kyla continued.

“But I’d prefer it if your youngest daughter weren’t chosen as the new concubine. I’d hate to have to kill a naïve fifteen-year-old.”

“Pardon?”

“You didn’t hear wrong. I said I’d kill her.”

The message was clear: ‘Try it, and see what happens.’

Kyla glanced down at the duke’s trembling fist, then rose from her seat. There wasn’t the slightest hint of falsehood in her declaration. Her face, as she left the audience chamber, was poised and dignified.

Once she was gone, the retainers collapsed back into their seats with sighs of relief.

“She really has no blood or tears… even knowing how much the Duke dotes on his youngest daughter.”

“She lost her own child—why would someone else’s be any comfort to her?”

“Tsk, with that temperament, it’s no wonder His Majesty won’t open his heart to her.”

Even with the doors shut, the stinging words reached her ears. Kyla closed her eyes slowly in front of the closed door, then clenched her pale fists tightly.

‘It’s fine. I’m used to this.’

She wore a faint smile as she walked away. Besides, she didn’t even have the strength to punish anyone right now.

When she arrived at her office, the royal physician was the first to come running.

“Your Majesty! Are you alright? Your fever hasn’t broken—why did you attend the meeting?!”

“I’m f—”

She tried to say “I’m fine,” but her legs gave out first.

‘Huh…?’

Her body tilted sideways. Her vision blurred, and though she had only closed her eyes for a moment, when she reopened them, people were already gathered, looking down at her.

‘Ah, I must’ve collapsed.’

“Bring the medicine, now!”

The doctor approached with a vial, shouting urgently. He pretended to be worried, but he was the one who had informed the Duke about the Empress’s condition.

‘How should I deal with him…?’

No, even in this mess, it was ridiculous that she was thinking such things.

As her surroundings swayed in a chaotic blur, a thought crossed her mind—one she hadn’t had once in the past eight years.

“…I want to rest.”

“What did you say, Your Majesty?”

“Did she just say she wanted to die?!”

“Watch your tongue!”

Even now, they were still bickering. At least the servants of the Count’s household had truly cared when she was sick.

She wanted to say something—anything—but she had no strength left. The fever now burning her body was even worse than the postpartum infection that nearly killed her two years ago.

Her eyes welled up. At that moment, she felt completely and utterly abandoned by the world.

‘Is this how I die?’

She got married because she wanted to live happily with the man she loved…

She had come to him—even if it meant betraying her father and the entire noble faction. It was a foolish decision.

Now that he had become Emperor, he didn’t take care of her. Instead, he constantly disappeared somewhere, using state affairs as an excuse while dumping all his duties on her.

After losing two children, Kyla’s health had steadily worsened. Still, she couldn’t afford to rest. It was the life she had chosen for herself. She was the Empress of a nation, after all—she didn’t want to cry and throw a tantrum just because her husband didn’t love her.

But whenever she was this sick, there was always one thing she couldn’t help but wish for: 

‘I just wish… he were by my side.’

It didn’t matter how busy he was. She could even endure him cutting off contact again. She just wanted him to hold her hand in moments like these. 

A day, half a day—no, even a single moment would be enough…

‘Haiden…’

For the first time, Kyla felt her entire body shattering into dust. And only now did she realize—her heart had been burning in flames for a very long time.

She spent several days in bed, feverish, waiting for someone who wouldn’t come. Even when she lost consciousness at dawn, drenched in cold sweat, the attendants said she called his name.

But he never showed up. Even when she miraculously opened her eyes again, the only thing waiting for her was a single letter.

“Your Majesty! His Majesty is finally returning! He’s coming back from subjugating the monsters in the northwest, and he’s bringing tons of furs again…”

The maid’s cheerful voice didn’t even register.

Once upon a time, receiving that letter might have genuinely made her happy. But now, even that piece of paper placed neatly on a silver tray felt revolting to her.

Her fever had subsided, and for the first time in a while, her mind was clear—painfully so.

Looking back, it had always been this way. Whether she was on the verge of death, lost a child, or even when her father passed away…

Haiden always sent the same type of letter.

[I’m alive. I’ll be back soon.]

But what did those words even mean anymore?

“Burn it.”

She wasn’t going to wait any longer.

***

The Emperor, who had been out scouting near the border, returned two days after the letter was sent.

Clink.

Kyla sat alone in the Empress’s quarters, drinking wine. The purple liquid shimmered within a crystal glass.

A deep shadow fell behind the now-open door.

“Why are you drinking alone?”

It was the voice she had desperately longed to hear for the past few days. Kyla took a long sip of wine, trying to hold back the surge of tears.

“There’s no one to drink with, obviously.”

“Where’s Marybell?”

“You dispatched her to Talis a year ago, remember?”

Haiden let out a long sigh as if he had just realized it, then took a seat across from her.

“Sorry, I forgot. Things have been hectic lately.”

He ran a hand through his black hair, clearly worn out. Even his indifferent profile was so stunningly handsome, it could melt her heart.

“Anything else happen?”

His obsidian eyes slowly scanned Kyla’s face—so intense that it could almost be mistaken for affection.

‘If someone saw this, they’d think he actually loves me…’

She inhaled deeply before replying.

“Your retainers told you to marry again.”

“…What?”

“Why so shocked? It’s not like this is the first time they’ve brought it up.”

Kyla let out a bitter laugh as she took another sip of wine. Her self-deprecating gaze was unfocused.

“Not Maistrock’s daughter. I’d prefer one of Marybell’s maids, I’ve been keeping an eye on—”

“What are you even saying, Kyla?”

Startled by the sudden declaration, the Emperor stood up. When he tried to place a hand on her shoulder, Kyla slapped it away and glared at him.

“I’m taking responsibility for this position!”

She was utterly fed up.

“I’ll take care of all that. You just need to—”

“Just need to what?! Do you even understand why I’m saying this right now?”

Because she always pretended to be fine, because she held herself together like a proper Empress— did he really think she was okay?

Did he ever ask if she was physically alright? If her heart was breaking?

Did he ever wonder… even once?

Her bottled-up resentment exploded, the tremble in her voice sharpening into a scream.

“While you were gone, I lost two children. And not once did you ask if I was okay!”

“…That’s…”

“It’s been eight years. Eight whole years! And in all that time, have you ever done anything for me? It was always about the Empire, about this damn country!”

Yes, this country. The one they had sacrificed so much to build.

Kyla knew deep down. She knew that he had done everything he could for the nation. As the Emperor of an empire, he was someone worthy of admiration. History would surely remember him as a great ruler, a man of legend.

“But what about me?”

She had executed dozens to stabilize domestic affairs. People called her a villainess, but she didn’t care. Because everything she did—she did for him.

And that sacrifice was only possible because she believed it was rooted in love.

“You… You never loved me.”

He had only kept her by his side because he needed her.

For the first time, Kyla shed tears in front of him. A thin line of blood trickled down her pale cheek, and even in the darkness, Haiden recognized it instantly and rushed to her side.

He snatched the wine glass from her hand and brought it to his nose. Only then did he realize something was terribly wrong.

“Damn it.”

He dropped to his knees in front of her, his voice shaking as he met her eyes.

“What did you do, Kyla?”

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. She had to know it was poisoned.

“What the hell did you do, Kyla Bailey?!”

The Emperor’s furious shout rang through the room. He barked orders to summon the royal physician and scooped her into his arms.

But he knew. The one he was truly angry at wasn’t her. He was terrified—helpless. He had finally thought he might be able to make her happy this time.

“Why do you always push me away…? Do you even know what I came back for? What am I doing all this for…!”

His voice cracked, thick with grief and confusion. But Kyla could no longer hear him—the poison had already begun to numb her senses.

With hazy, fading eyes, she looked up at the Emperor and moved her lips slightly. What was she trying to say?

Haiden leaned in, face twisted in anguish, trying to catch even a whisper of her final words.

And then—

Thud.

Kyla’s hand slipped from his grasp, falling limply to her side.

The Emperor let out a silent scream.

And so, Kyla Bailey met her eleventh death—right in front of Haiden Rophel Liberon.

The cause was different each time, but this was the first time… she had taken her own life.