Because of the wedding ceremonies that had drawn Ahazan away from the palace, and because Yuri had remained behind to fill the Emperor’s absence, Anna had been attending the Founding Day celebration of the allied Harrison Empire.

Charlotte had accompanied her in the procession. In truth, it was Ahazan’s way of extending courtesy to his former fiancée after their broken engagement.

Clodine had heard they were due to return today. It seemed they had only just arrived.

“You do not have time to waste here. You must receive the important guests.”

Anna spoke pointedly, as though Cecilia did not qualify as an ‘important guest’ in the least. Indeed, though addressing Clodine, her gaze was fixed coldly upon Cecilia.

Clodine noticed Charlotte subtly pinch Anna’s elbow from behind, a silent warning that too many eyes were watching.

Clodine agreed.

“Let us go together, Princess von Lernando.”

Without another glance at Cecilia, Clodine turned her back and walked ahead. But after a few steps, she paused and looked over her shoulder.

“Ah—Princess Hymera.”

Nadia flinched at the sound of her name.

Clodine pointed toward the dark window.

“Do you know what that is?”

At the end of her gesture hung a brilliant full moon.

Nadia let out an awkward laugh.

“Why… it is the moon.”

Clodine smiled kindly.

“I asked because earlier it seemed you struggled to distinguish between stars and moons. I thought it best to clarify.”

The remark cut sharply at Nadia’s earlier greeting.

‘The beautiful star of Van Helsing, Her Majesty the Empress.’

In the Empire, the Emperor was called the Sun. Thus the Empress was the Moon. A king in a kingdom was sometimes called the Sky, and accordingly, the queen the Star.

For Nadia to address Clodine as a ‘star’ before such a gathering was an inexcusable lapse for a princess of a sovereign nation.

Around them, nobles clicked their tongues in quiet disapproval. Nadia’s face flushed deeper crimson as she bowed.

“M-My apologies, Your Majesty. Please forgive my ignorance.”

“Anyone may err. It is only important not to repeat it.”

Clodine answered gently, resting a warm hand on Nadia’s shoulder before turning away.

Only then did Anna and Charlotte obediently follow her as she moved.

The atmosphere had shifted. Combined with what had just occurred, and with the visible proof that Clodine’s friendship with the two most influential women in high society remained intact, her previously uncertain standing began to recover.

Clodine led them into a curtained alcove, shielded from prying eyes.

Once alone, Anna spoke sharply at once.

“What did that Cecilia wench dare say to you this time?”

“Your Highness. You must mind your language before Her Majesty—”

“And what about that foolish princess? Who invited those two to the ball?”

Anna had always despised Cecilia. Since childhood, she had watched Cecilia treat Clodine without the respect due an elder sister.

Clodine felt a faint, bittersweet smile rise to her lips.

For a moment, it felt as though they had returned to childhood, when Anna had been nothing more than her playmate.

Charlotte seemed to feel the same. She smiled faintly at Clodine, and for a heartbeat, warmth passed between the three of them, enough to blur recent hardships.

“It was nothing. I am accustomed to such low tricks.”

It was both reassurance and truth. Compared to the cruelties of O’Neil’s mistresses, Cecilia’s scheming was child’s play.

Anna studied her closely.

“Clodine… are you no longer angry with us?”

Since being brought to the Empire, Clodine had swung between fury and exhaustion. To Anna and Charlotte, she must have seemed distant, untouchable.

Lowering her gaze slightly, Clodine shook her head.

“I was never angry at you. I understand now that there was nothing either of you could have done.”

At that, Anna clasped her hands tightly, tears brimming in her eyes. Charlotte looked at her with deep concern.

“You have grown so thin, Your Majesty.”

The formal address sounded strange from her lips.

Clodine looked at Charlotte with quiet apology. No one understood better than she that the grief of lost love surpassed all other sorrows.

“I still owe you an apology, Charlotte.”

“Please do not say that. I believe everything has simply returned to its rightful place.”

“…Its rightful place…”

Clodine murmured the phrase thoughtfully.

But Anna abruptly slapped the back of her hand, jolting her from her thoughts.

“Enough of that nonsense. Worry about your health first. As Charlotte said, your face is half what it used to be.”

“Your Highness, you must not speak so to Her Majesty—”

“Oh, hush. It is just us. Stop scolding me, Charlotte. After weeks at your side, my ears are about to fall off.”

Their familiar bickering nearly drew laughter from Clodine.

But only nearly.

As always, the thought of the Rotermann people darkened her expression.

Now that she was officially Empress, she understood that change was necessary. She could not remain chained to the past, weeping and raging, if she hoped to move forward.

She had to secure her position in this imperial court.

She had to build power.

But how?

What drove her now was not ambition. It was responsibility.

Responsibility for the Rotermann people who had lost their homeland and been dragged into a foreign empire.

Since returning to the palace, she had thought of little else.

‘How should I proceed…? From here on…’

With her former prestige in ruins, how could she gain the strength to protect herself, and those around her? Whose hand should she take? Which path forward would secure safety for the innocent?

What must she correct first, so that the unjust deaths of the precious would never repeat?

Lost in thought, Clodine did not notice Anna suddenly clutch her arm and tilt her head.

And then Anna spoke.

 “Still, look at him coming alone and acting as if he owns the place.”

Clodine followed Anna’s gaze.

In the center of the grand ballroom stood a well-dressed man, surrounded by several guests, conversing with effortless ease. His face felt strangely familiar, yet distant, as though from another lifetime.

“He came over with us from the Harrison Empire this time, but no one seems to know exactly who he is. Isn’t that right, Charlotte?”

“He is too solitary to be a proper envoy, yet he is treated far too grandly to be a mere casual guest. The Empire granted him an entire detached palace to himself.”

At that, Clodine’s attention sharpened.

In the aftermath of the imperial wedding, the Van Helsing Empire had been flooded with dignitaries. The palace could host only a limited number of guests, so accommodations were inevitably determined by rank.

‘An entire detached palace… for him?’

Clodine’s eyes narrowed.

The most prestigious residence, reserved for the highest of guests, had been assigned to a man who had arrived last. What did that imply? And the fact that the detached palace had remained empty for days after the wedding—

‘It must have been reserved for him from the beginning.’

No mere nobleman could receive such treatment without the Emperor’s direct approval.

‘Ahazan’s doing.’

Naturally, that made Clodine all the more curious.

“What is his name?”

Anna and Charlotte exchanged uncertain glances.

“He appeared on the very day we were leaving Harrison, there was barely time for introductions. He insisted he had been invited and must attend the wedding in Van Helsing, then produced an invitation out of nowhere. It was absurd. By the time we arrived, the ceremony would already be over. But we could hardly ignore a man holding an imperial invitation.”

She widened her eyes, reenacting her disbelief.

“What was his name again? Airos? Haios? Something like that.”

“I believe it was Haimos.”

The moment the name left Charlotte’s lips, Clodine’s expression changed.

“Was it… Ashton Haimos?”

“Yes—that was it.”

‘So that is why he seemed familiar.’

Clodine turned sharply toward where the man had been standing, only to find him gone.

“I did think the name sounded familiar, but how do you know it, Your Majesty?”

Clodine looked from Charlotte to Anna, momentarily at a loss.

“Charlotte… don’t you remember? Long ago, we—”

“Good evening, Your Majesty.”

Clodine turned at once.

Ashton Haimos stood beside her, gently parting the crimson curtain.

His hair was black as ebony, his eyes a deeper blue than Anna’s. Pale skin, striking red lips. He was beautiful, almost dangerously so.

‘He seems taller than before…’

Though his features were soft, even delicate, his broad shoulders and commanding height carried a quiet intimidation.

“Haimos.”

Clodine said calmly, masking her surprise.

Ashton smiled, clearly pleased to hear his name from her lips.

“You remember me? I am deeply honored.”

“How could I forget you?”

“It has been more than a decade. Long enough to erase someone without leaving a trace, would you not say?”

As he spoke, his gaze shifted subtly to Charlotte.

Clodine followed it, meeting Charlotte’s confused eyes. Charlotte straightened unconsciously, sensing the attention but not understanding why.

“I had not realized you would all reunite so quickly.”

Ahazan’s voice cut in before Clodine could explain.

She turned to see him approaching, flanked by Cal and several knights. His presence carried its usual authority.

Most of the knights were familiar faces.

‘The Pantheon Order…’

Relief flickered through her. They had survived.

Memories of their departure for war resurfaced, the long years of brutal campaigns. Seeing them now, whole and unbroken, stirred something bittersweet in her chest.

Ahazan stepped to her side and wrapped an arm firmly around her waist.

“Do you remember Ashton, Your Majesty?”

His tone was formal, elevating her publicly. It felt slightly strange to Clodine, but she responded in kind, maintaining imperial composure.

“Yes. I remember him, Your Majesty.”

She lifted her gaze to Ashton Haimos once more.

The sole heir of the Grand Ducal House of Haimos, whom she had met at fifteen in the snow-covered Duchy of Arabel.

The tragic young duke who had vanished without a trace after his duchy’s fall, his fate unknown.

That very Ashton Haimos now stood before her.