The Emperor’s audience chamber stood empty.

Grand Duke Yuri von Lernando gently traced the arm of the throne placed at the highest point in the room with his pale, delicate hand.

The back of the chair towering several heads taller than a man was lavishly adorned with red silk and gilded ornaments, always ready to glorify whoever sat upon it.

He wanted, at any moment, to take that seat to show the world how perfectly he belonged upon the Emperor’s throne.

But Yuri suppressed that burning desire deep within his chest and released a quiet, restrained sigh through his narrow lips.

“Have you been well… my Emperor?”

Without a sound, someone approached and stopped below the steps where Yuri stood.

It was Cecilia Ramier the half-sister of the current Empress, Clodine.

Looking down at her flushed face so vivid it rendered her makeup meaningless Yuri gave a faint smile that masqueraded as warmth but carried the edge of mockery.

“Please refrain from such insolent titles, Lady Ramier.”

“Then and now, to me, only Your Highness is my Emperor. Please, accept my devoted love.”

“My, Cecilia… you truly are impossible.”

With eyes feigning emotion, Yuri gestured for her to come up.

As though receiving a great blessing, Cecilia clasped her hands together and climbed the steps one by one, almost crawling like a creature ascending a slope.

Yuri made no move to stop her or suggest she walk properly.

Instead, like a god granting an audience to a mortal, he remained seated at the very top—

and gently placed his hand beneath her chin as she finally reached him.

“No matter how I think of it, I cannot imagine a woman more suited to the position of Empress.”

“Yuri… do you truly mean that?”

Tears spilled instantly down Cecilia’s cheeks.

She had longed to hear those words again never believing she would.

The years of patience and sorrow she had endured now surged back as overwhelming joy.

“How could I not mean it? If not you, then who could possibly stand at my side?”

“Ah… Yuri. Of course. No one could ever love you more than I do. For you, I would gladly give my life.”

“Truly?”

Yuri smiled, unable to hide his delight.

He cupped her face gently in both hands, caressing her.

“You would give your life for me?”

“Yes, Your Highness. My heart belongs only to you.”

As if to prove it, Cecilia began unfastening the buttons of her dress as though she might tear out her heart and offer it to him.

Yuri watched her calmly, like one appreciating a work of art.

Then, reaching out, he pulled her into his arms.

“Yuri…!”

A cry of bliss escaped her lips.

He pressed his lips against her pale neck, leaving a deep mark.

Lost in the fervent touch and lips of the man she adored, Cecilia could barely hold onto her senses.

She wrapped her arms around his golden hair, pouring what little reason she had left into that single act failing to notice that even as he burned against her with heat, his blue eyes shone cold as ice, filled with a chilling, merciless intent.

***

Wrapped from head to toe in a thick outer garment, Clodine lifted her head and looked up at the blazing sun.

Feeling suffocated, she tried to lower the hat covering her head but from behind, riding alongside her, Ahazan scolded lightly.

“The sun is too harsh, Clodine. Keep it on.”

His large hand adjusted the hat again, pulling it down securely over her head.

“It’s too hot, Ahazan. Are you trying to suffocate me?”

Clodine’s voice, slow and weak as though truly worn down by the heat, made Ahazan reluctantly allow her to remove the hat.

They had departed at dawn from the territory of Aselda and were now on their way to their next destination the Porto territory.

Riding through the barren plains from morning until noon, battered by the sandstorms stirred up by the marching army, had drained her strength in no time.

Even just sitting still on horseback was exhausting so she couldn’t help but wonder how tiring it must be for Ahazan, who was riding while holding her in front of him.

“Ahazan, prepare a horse for me now. It must be exhausting for you to carry me like this the whole time. I’ll ride separately.”

Clodine raised her voice slightly, just in case he hadn’t heard.

Riding no longer frightened her as it once had thanks entirely to Ahazan’s lessons.

From behind, Ahazan lowered his head over her shoulder, still holding her, and let out a quiet laugh.

“It’s fine. I get to enjoy myself while we travel.”

Because he spoke right by her ear, even the smallest sound felt as though it echoed through the ground.

As if to emphasize his shameless words, Ahazan tightened his arm around her waist, pulling her closer until his chest pressed firmly against her back.

Clodine felt more flustered by the pounding of her own heart than by the pressure that nearly took her breath away.

‘It’s a relief he can’t see my face right now.’

If she hadn’t been facing away from him, he might have seen how deeply flushed she had become.

Trying to distract herself, Clodine slipped her hand into her coat.

She pulled out the cold metal object that had been hanging against her chest.

It gleamed in the sunlight like a jewel a fragment of what had once been called the sacred sword of the Kesen family.

Its edges had been carefully dulled and polished, and upon its surface was engraved an intricate laurel pattern, crafted using the specialized weapon-making techniques of the Kingdom of Tylutan.

‘This is a token that we are no longer bound by the past, but will walk together toward the future as brothers.’

At dawn that very morning, just before leaving Aselda, Harbat Kesen had spoken those words as he placed the necklace made from his own broken sword around the necks of Ahazan and Clodine.

A new emperor.

A new empire.

A past stained with blood and injustice, sealed away forever and a future to be built together, rising from the ashes of war.

As Clodine gently traced the gift, thinking of Harbat Kesen the first to stand beside them in this new path she found herself no longer afraid of what lay ahead.

With a faint smile, she slipped the metal piece back beneath her clothing.

“We’ll arrive in three days. Porto has a lake as vast as the sea.”

“That’s the territory assigned to the people of Desalon, right?”

“That’s right.”

The Queen of Desalon had been the elder sister of Elizabeth of Lyrgaon who had once been Empress of the Van Helsing Empire.

Thus, just as Lyrgaon was considered a sibling nation to the Empire, Desalon was also tied to it through that connection.

Even so, no one had expected Desalon a long-standing ally to stand alongside the rebellious nation.

The shock at the time had been immense.

“You’ll be able to spend more private time there with me… so just be patient a little longer, Clodine.”

“Who said I wanted that in this situation…? Stop joking around.”

Clodine, finally snapping at his teasing, tried to turn and glare at him.

But in that brief moment, she lost her balance atop the horse and staggered.

Ahazan immediately steadied her.

“Who behaves so recklessly on horseback like that?”

“But you were the one who started teasing—!”

“Teasing? No… I’d call it love.”

Clodine had been about to argue that he was the one toying with her but his words cut her off.

Her unfinished sentence scattered into the empty air.

And just like that her lips, which had been so ready to argue, fell completely silent.

‘What… did I just hear?’

She had heard it clearly and yet, it was a word she could hardly bring herself to acknowledge.

There was no chance she had misheard.

And that only made it worse.

‘Teasing? No… I’d call it love.’

‘…love.’

It was a word she had never once imagined hearing from Ahazan’s lips.

Perhaps that was why everything else faded away,

while that single word grew louder, clearer filling her mind entirely.

Her heart began pounding even harder.

Clodine pressed her trembling hand against her chest, as if trying to calm it but the frantic beating would not stop.

The cold touch of the metal pendant against her skin sent a shiver through her entire body.

“Y-you… what did you just say…?”

She forced the words out, one by one but they barely formed a proper sentence.

Embarrassed, shaken, she couldn’t even bring herself to lift her head.

Ahazan leaned his chin lightly against her slender shoulder, wrapping her in his arms.

“It was nothing. If you didn’t hear it, then forget it.”

Those hollow words settled softly into her ears even as the horse carrying them continued its steady, powerful stride toward their destination.

And in that moment Clodine found herself wanting to run, far away, from the man holding her so close.