Chapter 3: Torn Apart

“Master. Please…”

Elana pleaded as she clung to the bars of the cell.

Rust red with blood smeared across her palms, crushing and staining her skin.

She hated herself for being so powerless, hated that her own incompetence had led to this situation.

She regretted not studying harder, not growing stronger, not preparing herself more thoroughly.

She resented her own weakness.

If only she had been a little stronger, a little wiser—pointless regrets tangled together, choking her breath.

“Your Highness, my duty is to serve and protect you. If I can leave this world having fulfilled that duty, I have no regrets.”

“Master…”

“Please, let me do what I must. But I’m worried about Killian, who’s being brought in completely unaware. I’ll take the blame for everything, so…”

Killian had left the capital to take care of a massive landslide in the territory after his mother’s funeral, handling the disaster on behalf of the duke.

Elana and the Duke of Ridges hadn’t sensed a thing before this all happened, so for Killian, who was away from the capital, there was even less chance he’d have any idea what was unfolding at the palace as he was dragged back.

Killian was truly fated to do nothing but stand by, helpless.

Regardless of his own fate, the Duke only wanted to save his unfortunate son, who’d been swept up in a storm he didn’t deserve.

For the sake of the future, he had to.

He knelt before Elana and bowed his head.

“Your Highness, we can’t all die like this. I’m shameless to ask, but I beg you, please at least spare that boy’s life. As long as he’s breathing, he’ll manage somehow.”

Watching him bow for so long, Elana pounded her fists against her own legs.

She desperately tried to come up with a better way, a better plan.

But all she could hear, clearer and clearer, were the voices of the nobility who had completely turned their backs on her.

“Your Highness. Please don’t torment yourself. This is the best choice I can make. Taking responsibility for my lapse in vigilance is only right.”

Moved by his earnest plea, she finally nodded, tears falling thick and fast.

“Thank you.”

Unable to look at the Duke, bowing his head so deeply, any longer, Elana turned and left the prison.

All she could do now…

The entire nobility had abandoned her.

The fragile balance of power, which had always been on a razor’s edge, was now utterly broken.

Elana found herself standing in the pouring rain, looking up at the sky.

‘What must I do to save him? There’s only one option left to me—can it really be right?’

She asked the bleak sky, hoping for an answer from the one who had forced her into this fate.

But the gods were always indifferent, and no answer ever came.

Only the fierce rain struck her ears.

Right now, there was only one person who could save him.

Robellina Netia Nistel.

The vivid image of a woman with blazing red hair, smiling with sickening sweetness, rose clearly in her mind.

‘A wretched, tangled fate.’

Robellina was the second daughter of the Marquis of Nistel, and it was the night of the founding festival when Elana, who was just three, that Robellina, drunk and imitating the queen, invaded the king’s chambers.

She’d been nearly executed for disgracing the royal family, but her pregnancy spared her, and the following year, she gave birth to Alan.

Even the birth of a royal son hadn’t threatened Elana’s place.

The king had never shown even a shred of affection to Robellina or Alan.

But Robellina, and the Marquis of Nistel, were nettled by that fact.

They began to bare their claws when Elana turned fourteen—the year the queen died young, and the king, his health broken, finally took to his sickbed.

As the king grew weaker and spent more days unconscious, Robellina and her family’s power only grew stronger.

In contrast, the loyalists who supported Elana, the trueborn heir, grew weaker by the day.

And now, today.

“You who disgraced the royal family have finally sunk your teeth into its throat.”

Elana exhaled deeply, her eyes flashing with resolve as she steeled herself to use the only option left.

A single careless moment had let her enemy take her by the throat, but even if she ended up bloodied and torn, Elana stood before Robellina with a composed face.

Before her, already intoxicated by her own victory.

***

“The Duke of Ridges, who has conspired in treason…”

Sharp, cutting stares were fixed on the young princess, their hostility clear.

Every one of Elana’s movements was watched as if they meant to catch even the smallest misstep.

Robellina snapped her fan open and glared, as if warning her not to try anything foolish.

She knew that killing the beloved princess outright would lose her the people’s support—and that wouldn’t help her son Alan at all.

Instead of disposing of Elana quickly, Robellina had decided it was better to strip her of all her power, take everything she could, and then leave her to wither away.

‘I’ll spare Killian’s life, but on one condition. You must kill them yourself and become the traitor. Act as if it’s all for your own survival, and play your part thoroughly. I’m sorry, but your pain is my joy. Wouldn’t it be worse for you if the Duke hated you? Wouldn’t that torment you more, Princess?’

Elana clenched her jaw, recalling the condition Robellina had presented the night before, then opened her mouth again.

“The Duke of Ridges, having committed treason, shall be stripped of his title and lands and sentenced to death by burning, in accordance with the law.”

Elana accepted her defeat and made a deal with Robellina.

It was a bargain that bordered on begging.

Even so, she had not been able to save the Duke’s life.

She forced down the surge of emotion threatening to rise, doing her best to maintain a calm face.

“Your Highness! You cannot! This is a set-up! Let me prove—ugh!”

Killian, hands and feet bound, struggled desperately in place as he protested his father’s fate.

He was quickly subdued by the knights, a gag forced into his mouth.

Elana fought back tears and struggled to maintain her composure as she pressed on with the verdict.

And at last, she delivered the sentence that was all she had managed to beg for.

“Killian Clian Ridges, though of a traitor’s bloodline, was not present in the capital and did not participate in these events. In light of this, his life shall be spared.”

“Urrgh!”

Even restrained by the knights, Killian fought back, trying desperately to say something.

But Elana, face frozen with determination, continued reading the verdict.

“However, treason is a crime that destroys entire families. All rights and titles belonging to Killian Clian Ridges are hereby revoked, and he is to be sent as a slave to the Altine Mines, to serve a life sentence of hard labor with no hope of pardon.”

Elana spat out the last words as if chewing and tearing them apart, then immediately left the courtroom.

She couldn’t bear to look at them—couldn’t stand to remain in that place even a moment longer.

With every step she took, her heart seemed to collapse, over and over again.

And that night.

“Master, I wanted to let you see Killian, but I don’t think I can. I’m sorry.”

Father and son never saw each other again, kept strictly separated to the end.

Elana had done everything she could to arrange a meeting, running around in secret, but Robellina’s interference made it impossible.

Above all, in his current state, there was no way to meet Killian.

Unable to accept the verdict, he had reacted violently, so they had sedated him.

Killian was now imprisoned, unconscious.

“It’s all right. Just… please deliver my letter to him.”

“Yes… I did. I gave it to him.”

Elana lied, her words coming a beat too late.

In the letter the Duke of Ridges wrote to his son, he explained that everything that had happened today was by his own will and plan.

But Elana hadn’t delivered the letter to Killian.

It was a unilateral decision—perhaps even a selfish one—but if that letter served as her own pardon, then all the pain would end up falling solely on Killian’s shoulders.

She couldn’t allow that.

‘Even if this means he’ll hate and resent me for the rest of his life, I failed as both a ruler and as a human being. I deserve whatever punishment he wishes to give me.’

Elana, knowing her own shortcomings had led to the sacrifice of someone dear, resolved to bear whatever anger or blame Killian would hurl at her.

And if that letter ever reached him and, in his heightened state, drove him to lash out at Robellina, it could very well cost him his life.

He needed time to process and regain his composure.

Above all, how could she ever tell him that his father gave up his own life to save hers?

So, more than likely, Killian would never receive that letter.