Chapter 2: Do You Want Us All to Die Together?

Elana Rita Cliphes, despite her noble birth, was as forlorn as a wildflower trembling alone in the cold wind.

So, she held herself straighter.

So, she made herself harder.

Her eyes, their gentle arc ending in a slight upward tilt, had never once lost their strength.

She always looked at the world with a fierce, unwavering gaze.

Her golden eyes, as if they held the sun itself, always shone with a powerful light as she faced the world.

Even in her slender frame, there was always an air of pride, dignity, and elegant grace.

Even if it was only by clenching her teeth and barely holding on, she refused to bow her head to her half-brother Alan or his mother Robellina.

No matter the moment, she never wanted to lose her noble pride.

This was how Elana, the only legitimate princess of this country, survived.

And yet, today, she was on her knees.

‘It seems even now, God is not on my side.’

Kneeling on the ground, the metallic scent of blood rose up around her.

The acrid smell of gunpowder had already been swept far away by the fierce winter wind, but the scent of blood still clung stubbornly to the tip of her nose.

Elana stared at the floor, stained dark red with dried blood, then slowly lifted her head.

Her gaze traveled up the towering figure before her—up and up—until she met eyes the color of spring’s greenery.

Those warm, verdant eyes now carried the bitter chill of winter as they drew near.

Even in the face of death, that unmistakable green was impossible to forget.

Meeting those eyes brought memories of the past rushing back with painful clarity.

***

Eight years ago.

It was the spring when Elana was seventeen and Calliod was twenty.

On a dark, drizzly night, Elana hurried through the soft rain.

As she walked, the faces and voices of the noble councilors she’d met over the past three days floated ceaselessly through her mind.

“This much evidence—it ties our hands. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do to help you.”

“The Duke of Ridges may have secluded himself, claiming his wife’s death, but it’s been five months. That’s plenty of time for plotting treason, isn’t it? The evidence is overwhelming; I’m afraid it will be difficult to intervene on your behalf.”

“Given the circumstances, Your Highness, I suggest you avoid stirring things up and instead focus on your own safety.”

Snakes! Cowards!

Elana ground her teeth in frustration.

Three days earlier, Killian Clian Ridges’s father—the Duke of Ridges and her fiancé’s parent—had been arrested on urgent charges.

The accusation: high treason.

The mountain of evidence was stacked solely to prove his guilt.

And with so much proof, there were already whispers: how could the princess not have known?

Had she not been involved as well?

People were already scheming behind the scenes.

‘They’re cutting off my trusted aides first, and soon they’ll come for me.’

With her father, the current King of Cliphes, bedridden for years, Elana—first in line to the throne—had been acting as regent, governing the kingdom.

If the king’s breath were to stop, she would be the sole legitimate heir to the throne.

Why would she ever plot treason?

‘Robellina. That cunning woman—she’s finally making her move.’

Elana was sure it all began with Robellina—the woman desperate to put her own son, born of the king’s stolen seed, on the throne.

Though Elana had outwardly followed the nobles’ will, she’d always governed in favor of the common people.

Many pretended to support her but grumbled behind her back.

‘There’s no way they’d ever let him go.’

She’d managed to block and endure their schemes until now, but this time, she was outmatched.

Now, with everyone looking after their own interests, most of the nobles had turned away from her and sided with her rival, Robellina and her son.

It was a disaster.

With nearly all the nobility turning their backs, all Elana could manage was to delay the Duke of Ridges’s sentencing for a few days.

‘Damn them all.’

Elana cursed inwardly, slipping through shadows to avoid prying eyes as she hurried toward the prison where the Duke of Ridges was being held.

She’d spent precious time shaking off those assigned to watch her, and the delay made her anxious—what if she was too late?

“Master.”

Elana pulled back her hood, revealing herself to her mentor and fiancé’s father, the Duke of Ridges.

Startled, the duke—slumped against the wall—gathered what little strength he had and struggled forward.

“Your Highness! How on earth—!”

“I’m sorry I was late. I was trying to find out what happened. Are you all right? Are you hurt…?”

Her questions tumbled out in a rush before she bit her lip, silenced by the sight of his battered state under the torchlight.

He looked like he’d been through hell.

“Your Highness. I am fine.”

“I’m so sorry. This happened because of me. It’s my fault you’re suffering like this.”

Elana said, voice trembling as she took in his blood-caked face.

“This is not your fault. My carelessness brought this about. I am the one who should apologize. I never imagined the secret letters I exchanged with King Eglan of Gladius, trying to save my wife… would become the excuse for all this.”

“You call them secret letters, but you told me about them beforehand. I gave you my approval.”

The Duke’s wife, Libella, had fallen gravely ill out of nowhere six months earlier.

The Duke had done everything in his power, but her health never improved.

Then, the King of Gladius—ahead of Cliphes in many fields and Libella’s brother—offered to send medical experts to help.

It was less an offer and more a desperate plea from King Eglan, who couldn’t bear to lose his beloved youngest sister to inadequate medicine.

Strictly speaking, Cliphes had always barred foreigners from entry, but Elana had agreed to admit the doctors in secret and even asked them to examine her own ailing father.

But the noble council had fiercely opposed her.

They feared that if foreign doctors discovered the king’s true condition and sent word back home, it could lead to war.

Under pressure, Elana had been forced to refuse the offer.

As Libella’s condition worsened, Eglan and the Duke of Ridges began exchanging secret letters, plotting to smuggle the doctors in.

That, ultimately, had been used as the pretext for this whole debacle.

“It’s my fault. Consumed by guilt over failing to save my wife, I was completely distracted. There’s no excuse for it.”

For five months, the Duke had withdrawn from the world, paralyzed by grief.

He should never have lost his focus at such a pivotal time, when the fate of the throne was at stake.

He couldn’t deny it—his own lapse had given his enemies the opening they needed.

All of it, he knew, was a result of losing his cool and failing to judge the timing.

“No. The real blame is mine. I should’ve read the nobles better. I was too harsh with Robellina and Alan—too aggressive in trying to keep them in check.”

“You only did that because I wasn’t at your side to advise you. This is my failure.”

“Ah… but what’s the point of laying blame now? What matters is fixing this. I’ll do whatever it takes. That’s what I came to tell you.”

Though her eyes brimmed with tears, Elana’s gaze was as fierce as ever.

But the Duke shook his head in horror, refusing to let her go any further.

“No, Your Highness. They’ve already constructed a meticulous case around the evidence I gave them. I understand that some of the letters they’ve presented as proof even mention your name. If you press further, you could be implicated as well. That’s their true aim.”

The Duke of Ridges shook his head firmly.

Just by coming here herself, the princess had given their enemies another excuse—they’d seize any pretext to drag her down.

He didn’t need to see the noble council’s movements to know what would happen; the balance of power in the court was already lost.

The only way forward was for him to sever all ties with the princess.

“You must cut us off. It’s the only way to survive this, Your Highness.”

“Master!!”

Elana’s face, gaunt and pale from days without sleep spent trying to free him, drained of all color.

The Duke, who regarded Elana like his own daughter, gently brushed her cheek.

The sight of her bright, beloved face now so weighed down with sorrow broke his heart.

“If you don’t, they’ll hound you to the very end. Even your life could be in danger.”

“There’s no cause—no matter how much they want to harm me, they won’t find enough justification. So—”

“Treason, Your Highness. Even for you, that’s a danger. This was my mistake, and I cannot deny it. I will take responsibility. Please, do not get involved.”

“How can you tell me to just give up? It’s obvious you’re innocent! I can’t do it. I can’t abandon my own people like that. I’d rather die—”

Elana was frantic.

She couldn’t bear the thought of letting the innocent be condemned.

“So you’d die with us? Will it satisfy you if we all perish? Is that what I taught you? You must never speak so lightly of death, Your Highness!”

Seeing she wouldn’t back down, the Duke’s voice turned stern, loud enough to echo off the stone walls.

Of all possible outcomes, dragging everyone down together would be the most tragic.

If the princess insisted on that path, he had no choice but to draw the line himself.