Chapter 1: Facing the Frozen Green

The sun that had faintly shone over the earth was now completely hidden behind snow clouds.

From within those heavy clouds, snow began to fall once again.

“Haa. Haa.”

The mountain wind blew fiercely, now mixed with snow, making it almost impossible to see even a step ahead.

Already, icy crystals had formed on Elana’s long, thick golden eyelashes, and the snow clung to them, making it as difficult to lift her eyelids as it was to pull her feet out of the deep drifts.

But Elana did not stop; she walked on and on along the snow-covered mountain path.

“Haa. Haa.”

Her breath came out in rough pants, instantly freezing white in the air and shattering into pieces.

As she inhaled again, the frigid air forced a groan from her lips.

The blade-like wind cut deep into her lungs, raging as if to tear apart her insides.

Still, Elana kept moving.

The whole world was blanketed in white, making it hard to tell where anything was, and her thin body wavered in the wind, but she pressed forward without hesitation.

As if she was someone who knew exactly where she needed to go.

“Ah! Ugh.”

Walking fearlessly through the snowy mountain winds, she finally tripped over a rock and fell.

A fleeting, desperate cry and a faint moan slipped through her pale, chilled lips.

Piii—

A small hawk, wandering through the colorless world, swooped down toward Elana.

The little bird circled her anxiously.

“It’s too dangerous to stay here with this wind, Theo. You shouldn’t be here.”

With hands reddened by cold, Elana stroked the tawny head of the bird lingering by her side, then sent it flying up into the sky.

Gone.

The bird, reluctant to leave, finally surrendered to her resolute gaze and soared high above.

As if she had never fallen, Elana calmly got back up, brushed off the snow, and took another heavy step forward.

Something like this wasn’t enough to make her stop here.

Elana pressed onward, climbing higher and higher.

The higher she went, the more the wind raged and stung.

She could no longer open her eyes properly, nor could she breathe, but she forced her feet to move.

“Ah.”

Even with the whole mountain seeming to block her way, her steps carried her onward with a clear purpose, until finally, they stopped.

Elana had reached a spot halfway up the mountain, standing on the edge where a single step forward would send her plummeting down.

Before her, a vast panorama spread out.

The country her father had ruled and her mother had nurtured was buried beneath a blanket of snow.

“Our country…”

A section of the palace, which had known no peace since her half-brother Allan took the throne, was stained a vivid red with flames.

This was the result of Allan’s desperate attempts to leave his mark—driven by compulsion, tyranny, and a desire to distract the oppressed people from rebellion by turning their attention outward.

The tragic landscape of a war, started by someone with neither sense nor humility.

The world, white and red, looked as if it had been bloodshot.

‘Father, Mother… I’m sorry. I couldn’t protect it. Allan, didn’t I warn you? If you continued like this, we’d lose everything.’

Her golden eyes, heavy with regret, gazed down on the once-prosperous, now-devastated kingdom.

At times, she thought she could help the country thrive again.

At times, she thought she could save it.

But she had neither brought about its revival nor rescued it with her own hands.

And yet, Elana—the kingdom’s sole princess—had been forced to drag out this wretched life until now.

She needed a chance to atone for a love that had turned into guilt, and, before her people who had nothing left to lose wasted away to nothing, she had to do something—anything.

As a result of desperately holding on until now, Elana no longer had a reason to remain in this land.

Her two final wishes had been fulfilled, at least in some small way, by her own feeble efforts.

‘Killian, if you’re still alive…’

Elana’s gaze moved, as if searching for someone.

But there was no way the person she longed for could be here.

With a bitter smile, she simply stared at the palace burning red and white in the distance.

Killian. If you’re here now, in the land where I was born and raised—would things have gone the way you wished?

I hope, at least, you were able to achieve what you desired. And, shameless as it is, I entrust this country, Cliphes, to you.

“If it’s you… surely…”

If it was him, he would certainly become a splendid ruler.

He was more than capable—and already was such a man.

Elana thought that, having endured this much, she’d done well.

It felt as if her duty had finally come to an end.

She’d done all she could, and now only one thing remained.

To leave, carrying the weight of her sins.

It had been a life full of transgressions.

She had destroyed her fiancé’s family, even knowing he was falsely accused of treason.

She had not protected her country—instead, she had handed its secrets over to the enemy.

There could be no greater crime.

To have betrayed both country and love.

It was time. This was right.

If there was one lingering regret, it was that she couldn’t see the one she missed so desperately before she left. But she knew that was a luxury she could not afford.

Elana slowly raised her hand and looked down at it.

Over her trembling hand, she could almost feel another hand—strong, straight, and so much like his—laid over hers.

A hand she had once touched in the dank, suffocating darkness of a prison cell.

And the vial of poison she had placed into that hand.

Let’s end this nightmare.

Lowering her hand, Elana closed her eyes and took a step forward.

A fear of death, which she had never truly felt before, suddenly swept over her.

Caught off guard by the unexpected emotion, she hesitated for just a fleeting moment.

But she did not stop her steps toward the edge.

At last, the foot that had been standing firm on solid ground stepped out into empty air.

***

In a gaudy, vulgar audience chamber—its decor reflecting someone’s taste—Calliod gazed silently at the throne.

The dignity it once held seemed to have been utterly discarded.

“Your Majesty.”

With eyes full of contempt, Calliod swept his gaze over the shadowy, oppressive audience chamber.

As he stood there, a knight clad in silver armor approached.

“We have captured the King of Cliphes. The king’s mother, Robellina, who tried to escape the palace, has also been apprehended and is being brought in.”

Unlike the heavily armored knights, Calliod was alone in light attire.

He turned slowly and asked,

“And the princess?”

“We’re searching for her, but…”

The knight, who had spoken with certainty until now, faltered with an air of unease.

Calliod shot the knight a menacing glare, then waved him away without another word, lost in thought.

‘She’s not the type to run.’

Leaving the audience chamber, he began to recall all the places the princess might go.

Her range of movement wasn’t very wide, so there weren’t many options.

As he visualized the places she loved most, Calliod’s eyes landed on the ridge stretching out behind the palace.

Suddenly, a memory from long ago resurfaced.

“I always make a promise here. That I’ll give a rich and happy life to the people who trust and follow me. Still, you never know how things will turn out. If, for any reason, I become a tyrant or a foolish ruler who disappoints them… then this will be the end for me.”

It was a spot with a sweeping view of the kingdom, a place Elana especially cherished.

As she looked down at the world spread out at her feet and spoke those words, she had been just a girl—but her sun-bright eyes held unshakable resolve.

In that moment, it really had seemed as if she would become the sun itself.

Maybe that’s why the memory was impossible to erase.

He wondered if, perhaps, that was the moment he started to care for her—however slightly.

“No way…”

His sharp gaze raked the ridgeline.

It wasn’t an impossibly high mountain, but in the heart of winter it was hardly a place to climb.

Still, given everything that had happened, it was entirely like her to follow through on a promise made long ago.

“You… To die like this, that’s not how you show me respect.”

Unable to shake the memory, Calliod set off for the snowy mountain.

‘Insane.’

And there—just as the memory foretold—she was: Elana, standing alone in the howling storm, dignified and frail all at once, her resolve clear on her face.

Standing at the very edge of the cliff, she finally took that last step out into the void.

Without a hint of fear or trembling.

On instinct, Calliod ran toward her.

He pushed through the raging wind, reaching for her as she seemed on the verge of vanishing into the distant whiteness.

Just before her last foot left solid ground, he snatched her up—her slender body swept upward.

“Ah!”

Elana let out a small gasp, not at the dizzying sensation of falling she’d expected, but at the startling feeling of being lifted up.

What struck her most was the clear sensation of someone’s arm pulling her shoulder and waist, yanking her backward.

She didn’t even have a chance to struggle; in an instant, she was swept up into a firm, broad chest, locked in an embrace from behind.

A low, familiar yet strange voice, rough with cold, brushed burning against her frozen ear.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Elana’s eyes flew open in shock, breath catching in her throat.

She’d squeezed her eyes shut, but now she was forced to face reality.

“How do you think I got all the way here?”

Calliod spoke, as if each word cost him effort, his arms only tightening around her.

Elana, unable to shake the thought of How?!, slowly turned her head to look.

“It’s been a long time, Your Highness.”

Eyes the color of new leaves in spring gazed back at her—green and alive, yet as cold as the ice on a frozen lake.