Chapter 6: Your Use

Elana simply couldn’t make sense of this situation.

What on earth is he thinking?

But Calliod only looked down at her with those cold eyes.

It wasn’t as if he was enjoying any of this either.

He didn’t particularly relish the moment, but Calliod had every intention of using Elana for all she was worth.

After escaping the mines and crossing over into his mother’s homeland, he became the heir to Gladius overnight.

Calliod’s uncle, the now-deceased King Eglan of Gladius, had no direct descendants and had intended to pass the throne to his younger brother, Grand Duke Trandio.

However, the Grand Duke, who had never coveted the crown, ultimately declined after much deliberation.

However, upon relinquishing the throne, Grand Duke Trandio openly expressed his worries about his son Sedius, who had naturally become first in line to inherit.

Sedius was simply not suited for the crown.

It was at this exact time that Calliod crossed over into Gladius.

Eglan, still carrying the guilt of losing his beloved younger sister, was especially vulnerable.

He’d already been anxious over the misfortune that had befallen her only son, and when that nephew—stripped of everything and branded a traitor—showed up, Eglan didn’t hesitate for a moment.

He confided only in Grand Duke Trandio, and after much discussion, decided to pass Calliod off as his own illegitimate son and name him heir.

But as the stain of treason clung to Calliod, they couldn’t reveal his true identity.

Because of this, he seemed to have fallen from the sky—suddenly appearing, with no known mother.

In a kingdom where bloodline mattered, such a background made Calliod unpalatable to many.

The fact that he sent proxies to every official occasion only fueled the unease.

Every day, living as the king’s bastard, was nothing short of precarious.

To fortify his fragile support base, Calliod chose only one path: territorial expansion and continental unification—realizing the founding dream of Gladius.

That meant throwing himself into every battle, risking his life over and over.

He fought with everything he had.

He came closer than anyone to fulfilling that ancient dream, and in the process, gained a decent number of supporters.

But as he suddenly grew in power and reinforced the monarchy, there were just as many forces wary that he might snatch away their interests.

That’s why his marriage became a matter of significant concern.

‘Until the balance of power stabilizes, I’ll use you as my pawn for as long as necessary. You might as well accept it, since you’re nothing more than a piece to be played.’

Just thinking of these factions made Calliod’s head throb.

The ones who said, ‘You owe us the empress’s seat for the power we gave you when you had nothing,’ and those who argued, ‘If you want us on your side, you’d better give us the empress’s seat’—navigating between these groups was a constant mental strain.

He had no intention of explaining these pathetic circumstances to Elana.

He simply stared at her, lost and bewildered, then turned away indifferently.

His long legs quickly put distance between them.

Elana stood there, dazed for a moment, then hurried after him.

It took two or three of her strides to keep up with one of his.

“Wait, please, wait!”

Her path was blocked by knights in silver armor who stretched out their arms, forcing her to a halt.

“Move. Who dares stand in my way?”

But the knights only stared back at her with mocking, contemptuous eyes, as if to say, ‘And who are you?’

Even with the commotion behind him, Calliod didn’t so much as slow down.

Finally, Elana called out a name she hadn’t spoken in years—a name from a life long past.

“Killian. Stop.”

His footsteps, heavy and deliberate, came to a sudden halt.

Elana gazed at his thick, sand-colored hair and, holding her head high, fixed the knights with a steely look as she commanded them once more.

“Move.”

“……”

Even at her sharp command, the knights didn’t budge.

So, Elana opted for the most effective tactic available.

“Is Gladius always this barbaric? To treat your lord’s wife, the soon-to-be Empress of your nation, so rudely—do they not teach chivalry here? I suppose you will all need a refresher.”

“That’s not—”

“If that’s not the case, you must know what’s expected of you right now.”

With regal poise, she completely unsettled them.

In reality, she was gritting her teeth and barely holding herself together, but she would never let it show.

No matter how much she was a princess of a fallen kingdom, as the face of a nation, she could not afford to appear subservient before foreign knights.

She had spent her whole life ruling from above.

And, as expected, they caved to her birthright.

While the knights fidgeted, uncertain what to do with this haughty figure, Calliod, who’d been standing as solid as a post, finally turned and approached.

“Out of the way.”

His voice was cold, but the knights looked utterly relieved as they stepped aside.

Calliod took the place they’d vacated.

As his tall frame drew near, a heavy shadow fell over Elana’s head.

Calliod found himself idly wondering, ‘Was the princess always this small?’ His expression remained impassive as he blinked slowly, almost with boredom.

Elana let out a low sigh and spoke up.

“What are you thinking? Your wife? What is this really about?”

“To ask my intentions when you’ve lived your whole life on that throne… For someone supposedly schooled in statecraft, that’s a remarkably foolish question.”

A faint, mocking smile curled at his lips.

He stared at her probing gaze and stubbornly set mouth, then reached out.

The moment his long, elegant fingers brushed the corner of her eye, Elana’s face stiffened even more.

Yet there was the slightest crack in her once unwavering gaze.

His hand, unbothered, traced her tense skin.

“The beloved of the people. The kingdom’s precious daughter. There’s no one else like you. If I want to claim this ravaged nation, keeping you is far more profitable than discarding you.”

Momentarily thrown by the unexpected touch, Elana quickly regained her composure and turned her head to shake him off, stepping away with a look of disbelief.

“You never did this with any other country. Now you expect me to believe you’re marrying a princess for the people’s approval? I’m supposed to trust that?”

Calliod glanced at the hand left hanging in the air, then stuffed it deep into his pocket with a shrug.

“The other nations’ princesses are all already married. No matter how ruthless, I have no intention of stealing someone else’s wife.”

The situation in Gladius was already complex, but considering Gladius and Cliphes’ history, Elana’s value was considerable.

It might have been easy to absorb a nation much smaller than Gladius, but swallowing up Cliphes—a kingdom that once rivaled Gladius for continental dominance—wasn’t something he could do so carelessly.

In that sense, marriage among the ruling class had long been a convenient excuse to blend people who’d grown up with completely different cultures and ways of life.

‘With the internal politics already a headache, if I can smooth even one thing over by using her, then I’ll take full advantage. She’s a perfect excuse to fend off those eyeing the Empress’s seat, too.’

Even better if the woman in question was the only legitimate royal daughter of her kingdom—an unfortunate heir, ousted from succession.

That made her an even more valuable match.

“I’m already married.”

“You were.”

Calliod shot back, irritation unmistakable.

He didn’t bother to hide the mocking edge to his words.

After clawing his way out for his own survival, the first thing he’d done was seek out news of Elana.

Thanks to her severing ties with the Ridges family, she’d been cleared of charges of treason, but she’d lost her throne and ended up, according to rumor, marrying a man she’d never even met.

Calliod remembered how bitterly he’d laughed when he first heard that story—and his expression now was almost identical.

And she still called that a marriage.

To think she had the nerve to call a wedding barely held together by ceremony a real marriage was almost laughable.

Calliod had almost asked if she’d expected things to turn out any differently when she turned her back on his family—but he let it go, instead watching her as if waiting for her to say something.

“……”

But Elana had nothing to say. He was right, after all.

As soon as Calliod’s sentence of hard labor was pronounced, she had, under Robellina’s orders, been married off to a minor provincial noble.

The problem was, on the very day of the wedding, the groom had dropped dead—leaving Elana a widow before she’d even seen her husband’s face, let alone spent a wedding night.

She was forced into a convent, swearing before God that, whatever else, she was a married woman.

Even so, Robellina still wasn’t satisfied.

Using the excuse, “We can’t just abandon the late king’s daughter in such a barren place,” she’d had Elana all but imprisoned in the royal palace’s back gardens, keeping her under surveillance for eight years.

Outwardly, she pretended to treat her like a respected royal princess, but in reality, she hadn’t even assigned her a single maid.

Robellina truly intended to starve Elana out.

Calliod stared hard at her tightly sealed lips, then flung out a barbed comment.

“It’d be a waste to kill something useful right away. Oh! Don’t tell me you thought I had feelings for you?”

He twisted his brow as if he found the very idea troublesome.

“What—!”

“As long as you didn’t, then that’s a relief.”

He said, tilting his head with a crooked grin. But his eyes remained cold, utterly devoid of warmth.

He closed the distance between them again, step by step, continuing in that same dry, unfeeling voice.

“If you have any conscience left, you shouldn’t do this.”

As Calliod—imposing just by his presence—approached, Elana instinctively tried to back away.

But before she could even take a step, Calliod grabbed her by the back of her head and yanked her toward him.

“Ugh—”

She let out a small gasp as she was dragged forward by his unyielding grip.

He completely ignored her stifled sound, closing the distance until his face was mere inches from hers.