1. Return

Spring had returned.

Pushing away the bone-chilling north wind, the goddess of spring settled in as if it were only natural, dyeing the entire Arcad Empire in her colors.

Even the imperial palace couldn’t escape the goddess’s power. Green leaves sprouted on branches that had been covered in white snow, and soon colorful flower buds burst open. It was the beginning of a beautiful season.

Passersby were captivated by the spring colors spreading abundantly this year as well. However, in a corner of the imperial palace, there were those who forgot to welcome the returned goddess, their attention focused on other matters.

“Is that rumor really true?”

At the sharp voice, the other women standing nearby nodded their heads.

“It’s certain. A knight from our family saw it directly.”

“My younger sibling also witnessed it personally.”

The woman who had asked if it was true showed dismay on her face at her friends’ confident voices.

“Even so, to think that Lord Nergal brought a woman….”

Nergal. The name the woman mentioned was that of the Fifth Prince of this Arcad Empire.

He was a prince who wouldn’t remain in anyone’s mind. He was born after the Emperor had relations with a woman from an insignificant family, barely above commoners, at a hunting ground.

His mother died coughing blood before she could even recover. Though it wasn’t a family worth paying much attention to, it was clearly the work of those who wanted to stamp out any possible threats before they could emerge.

Even though it was the death of a formally recognized imperial consort, the Emperor made no mention of the incident.

Without any interest shown, the remaining child might as well have been fatherless. Nergal was essentially abandoned in the palace.

But now at age 29, there was no one who didn’t know his name.

People said that if you encountered him even once, you could never forget him.

Some said it was because of his outstanding appearance, while others said it was due to his intense presence as a minister who showed neither blood nor tears.

Beyond that, people couldn’t help but remember him because his path was unusual.

All direct imperial family members receive the empire’s name, Arcad, as their surname in the year they turn 15, when imperial law guarantees their independence as individuals.

There are only two cases where one doesn’t inherit this surname.

One is when they’re deemed unqualified for the right because they’re so lacking they can’t even properly recite the empire’s basic laws.

The other is when they voluntarily refuse to take the empire’s name and give up their right of succession.

Nergal’s case was the latter.

At first, other royal family members were suspicious of him. Who would be foolish enough to voluntarily give up what everyone desired? Disputes arise over succession rights even for lower titles. Yet here he was, willingly giving up the right to obtain the most noble position.

But contrary to people’s suspicions, Nergal had never once shown his face at the New Year’s succession ceremony until now. Instead, he requested to be given the position of minister.

Years passed like that.

Now in the imperial palace, the title of minister had become synonymous with Nergal. Though there were others, he was the one with the strongest presence and influence.

Now Nergal had become someone who attended every important state affair without fail. Yet he quietly focused on his work without building his own power base. And now, approaching thirty next year, the time was coming for his succession rights to officially end.

The royal family members, having confirmed that he truly had no lingering attachment to succession rights and had decided to live only as a minister, were all desperate to draw Nergal to their side.

Because of this, there were many who desired the position beside him.

Usually, members of the royal family are already engaged in childhood. But Nergal hadn’t formed ties with any family until now.

Almost daily, countless marriage proposals were placed on his desk, but he had his aide send rejection responses.

At first, people thought he was being cautious. But as years passed without any talk of marriage, not even a casual partner, people started gossiping again.

Such talk as that he was more excited by documents than women, or that he couldn’t even get it up.

No matter what people said, he appeared unconcerned. And now suddenly there was talk of a woman?

Complex emotions stirred in the eyes of the gathered women. The first thing that came to mind was curiosity. He was someone who focused solely on work without showing any emotion, to the point where people said he had ice and iron flowing through his veins instead of blood. Such a person had brought in a woman for the first time.

When their thoughts reached this point, the emotion that emerged was wariness.

‘If Prince Nergal has taken a woman by his side now, there must surely be a purpose.’

Just what family’s woman could she be? Perhaps from a family that had belatedly set their sights on the throne? If not that, then perhaps a family with close ties to a prince they supported.

A heavy silence settled around them, but no one dared to speak easily. Everyone’s minds were racing.

Just then, the sound of murmuring was heard nearby. Those gathered immediately turned their heads.

“It’s His Highness Nergal!”

Someone spoke upon seeing the golden color that was clearly visible even from afar. The gathered women quickly moved their feet. Not just them. Others too, upon discovering Nergal, approached closer.

As he came near, people swallowed their gasps.

Nergal had inherited his mother’s beauty completely. But no one dared to say he resembled his mother. Though the beauty was his mother’s, nowhere in his height at least a span taller than others and his broad shoulders could one see his mother’s fragility.

The eyes of those watching him grew dim. Even those accustomed to the many beauties within the imperial palace would momentarily lose their words when seeing Nergal.

Those who had been mindlessly staring at Nergal soon noticed that his appearance was different from what they usually remembered. It was the same Nergal as always. The neat formal attire without a single wrinkle. The measured gait that could be mistaken for a knight’s. And yet….

‘Why?’

What was different that made him particularly captivating today?

While they were wondering in confusion about what exactly was different, someone’s muttering was heard.

“Lord Nergal is… smiling?”

At those words, people belatedly realized what had given them that sense of incongruity.

Whenever Prince Nergal’s name was mentioned, people always recalled his cold expression, and it was impossible to read what he was thinking.

He had been that way since childhood. One who merely observed with a cold gaze, as if devoid of emotion.

He never even furrowed his brow at low-grade mockery insulting his mother, or himself. The other princes who had tormented him eventually gave up first, tired of his lack of reaction, even less than a doll’s.

Even as he grew up, that nature didn’t change. Very rarely, he would make sneering sounds, but even those could be counted on one hand.

In any case, no one had seen Nergal smile. Yet now, the passing Nergal wore a gentle smile that no one had ever seen before. Naturally, people’s gazes followed his line of sight. The person Nergal was looking at….

Surprise spread across the faces of those who had shifted their gaze to follow Nergal’s. There was a woman beside him.

“Who is… that woman?”

A beautiful woman they had never seen before was walking alongside Nergal, holding his hand.

Nergal briefly swept his gaze over the astonished people before turning to the side. There stood a woman with a tense, stiff expression, clutching his hand. He slightly lowered his head and whispered in her ear.

“See? I told you no one would recognize you, Ir.”

At Nergal’s words, Ir slightly turned her head to look at those who had drawn near.

They couldn’t easily approach Nergal’s side, just as Ir ‘remembered.’

It was a familiar scene to Ir. She too had always seen these people inside the palace.

But those she knew couldn’t recognize her at all.

‘Though it’s natural, it’s still surprising.’

Turning her gaze from the people’s stares, Ir looked at her hand that Nergal was holding.

Long, slender arms, skin so fair it seemed to have never been exposed to sunlight, without a single blemish. Moreover, hands so smooth they seemed to have never held anything heavier than a parasol, without a single callus.

Even though she saw it every day, it was still unbelievable.

‘To think these are my hands.’

Ir remembered her original appearance clearly.

From childhood, her hands had been covered in calluses from practicing with the sword until blisters burst and bled.

Her skin was darker than even seasoned knights because she had never skipped practice even in the sweltering summer. Her solid muscles were incomparable to other knights, and countless scars accumulated since childhood remained innumerable.

And above all….

“…”

Ir’s gaze lingered on her elbow.

In the burning mansion, she had raised her arm to stop a falling pillar. The burning pillar had crushed her arm, leaving severe burns. The doctor had frowned deeply, saying it might be better to amputate the arm, such was the horrific wound that remained.

It wasn’t just the arm. Her face and half her body had been marked with clear traces of burns, and yet….