Seraphina lowered her gaze as she listened to Damian. When she remained silent and continued to look down, he let out a ragged breath.

“I was arrogant enough to believe I could make you happy. But that was my mistake.”

Seraphina closed her eyes, then opened them again. His face filled her vision, his jaw clenched tight and his teeth grinding together.

Damian dragged a hand roughly over his face. The skin around his eyes was red and raw, as if he had been rubbing them relentlessly.

“For now, it’s fine. I can stay by your side at all times. But this is as far as it goes.”

Seraphina watched him in silence. Although he had suggested the separation, he now looked as though he were being torn apart by the farewell; pain etched his expression.

“Now that you’ve recovered, I must return to my duties as Crown Prince. Once I’m not here all the time, Her Majesty will try to take Lucas back.”

As she listened, Seraphina slowly curled her fingers into a fist.

She had been thinking the same thing.

The Empress’s current restraint was only temporary. She was merely gauging Damian’s reactions. The moment he returned to spending his days in the study as before, Seraphina and Lucas would be completely exposed.

Seraphina no longer cared what happened to her.

Before, all she had wanted was to escape the Empress’s torment. But now it was different. There was someone more precious to her than herself.

She wanted to protect Lucas.

No matter what happened to her, she wanted to keep him safe. Yet cruelly, Seraphina had no power to stand against the Empress.

The Empress surpassed her in every respect: status, wealth, authority — even pheromones. If she wanted to, she could easily win Lucas back.

This knowledge haunted Seraphina at night, leaving her restless and afraid.

She had to leave the imperial palace.

She had already come to that conclusion. The day Lucas was taken from her was the day she decided to leave. The only reason she had not voiced that decision was Damian.

He had been utterly devoted to her and Lucas. While she recovered, he behaved like a penitent sinner, as though trying to atone for every past wrong. He went to bed later and rose earlier than her, never failing to watch over her and Lucas.

He personally oversaw her medicine and meals, hovering at her side as though he were nothing more than a servant. Throughout this time, he never stopped watching her face, never once letting his attention drift.

She felt like a child waiting to be told off.

Watching Damian treat her so differently from before overwhelmed her with a tangle of emotions. She felt grateful. She felt sorry for him. At times, she even resented him.

If only he had cared for her like this from the beginning! Even if not to this extent, she thought. If only he hadn’t been so consistently indifferent to her, then things between them would never have reached this point. Then things between them would never have got to this point.

But all of that was in the past now. There was no point in clinging to regret.

Seraphina swallowed her resentment and waited for the right moment to tell him that she was leaving the Imperial Palace.

Should it be today?

No, tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow would be fine.

She hesitated, putting it off again and again, and before she knew it, today had arrived.

So when Damian finally spoke, the first emotion she felt was guilt.

‘If only I had clung on a little less.’

‘If I had done that, you wouldn’t have had to say this with so much pain.’

“I…”

Damian’s brows knit tightly. Then, in a low, hoarse voice, he said.

“I’m the worst kind of husband.”

After speaking, he bit down hard on his lip—so hard that red blood seeped out.

“…Thank you for telling me to leave.”

Seraphina spoke softly. She lifted her hand to his mouth and wiped the blood away.

At her touch, Damian’s eyes shook.

Looking at him steadily, Seraphina said.

“Goodbye, Damian.”

A farewell.

***

Edosha’s massive gambling club, Hagen.

It was a den of indulgence and decay where Eisenbart’s gold would pool and then disappear. People would often squander hundreds, or even thousands, of gold coins in a single day. Anyone who set foot in Hagen could not be considered sane.

The most pitiful creature among them all was Count Leoban Lindenrosen.

He practically lived there. When he won, he would get excited and lavishly treat everyone around him to expensive drinks. When he lost, he would spit curses and erupt in violent rages.

Time and again, whatever little money he had left was drained away by compensation payments. He was a man utterly beyond saving.

“F*ck!”

Leoban kicked the table in a rage. The staff at Hagen paid it no mind. This sort of thing was routine.

“We will begin the next round.”

When the dealer made their announcement, the employees moved in perfect unison. They swiftly cleared the dice and collected the chips that had been placed in front of Leoban.

Still seething after kicking the table, Leoban froze when he saw his chips being taken away. Then he lunged forward.

“Wait—wait, wait!”

He threw himself onto the table, clutching the chips with both arms as he shouted.

“Why are you taking everything? You should leave at least fifty gold’s worth!”

“No. You doubled your bet in the previous round, so you lost one hundred gold.”

The staff member took the chips from him, replying in a flat, businesslike tone. When Leoban stubbornly tried to hold on to them until the very end, the staff member summoned colleagues stationed around the gambling hall.

The men, who looked like knights with swords at their sides, surrounded him. They were much bigger and far more powerfully built than Leoban, and they seized him in an instant.

“This is becoming troublesome, Count.”

“Let go of me! Do you even know who I am?”

Leoban shouted furiously. Straightening his neck, he raised his voice so it echoed around the room.

“I’m the Crown Princess’s brother! That makes me royalty too!”

The room fell silent at his outburst, as if cold water had been thrown over it. Pleased with the reaction, Leoban lifted his chin smugly.

‘Now they finally recognize my authority.’

Just then, Hagen’s manager stepped up beside him.

“You’ve gone too far, Count. The Crown Princess’s family is not royalty.”

“It’s the same thing!”

“No. Impersonating royalty is a serious crime.”

The manager glanced at the staff. At his signal, they lifted Leoban up as though he were luggage. Dangling upside down over someone’s shoulder, Leoban screamed.

“Aaaah! Put me down right now! You hear me?!”

“In consideration of our past dealings, we’ll treat your outburst as drunken rambling. Good day to you, Count.”

The manager spoke in a cold tone and nodded to the staff. Under the gaze of onlookers, Leoban was escorted out of Hagen.

After throwing him out of the door, one of the employees said.

“Come back when you have money.”

“Hey!”

Leoban shouted from the ground, having been thrown there. He staggered to his feet and pounded on Hagen’s door, but it remained firmly shut.

Those without money — or those in debt — were not permitted entry.

Not even the Emperor himself would be permitted entry to Hagen without a purse full of gold.

“Open up! Open it! Next time I’ll win for sure!”

Leoban yelled, reeking of alcohol. After shouting until his hands hurt, he was about to stagger away, exhausted—

“Long time no see, Count.”

Suddenly, a man dressed in black appeared and whispered in Leoban’s ear. Startled, Leoban spun around. He could see that the man had hidden half of his face beneath the cloak, and that his eyes were gleaming.