“…Lord Kailos?”

Her lips parted helplessly and trembled as the name slipped out: Kailos Laharden.

Was the master of the vast northern lands really going to have her burned at the stake?

Her unfocused, shaken sky-blue eyes drifted down towards the floor.

She could not claim to have had any kind of personal connection with the Grand Duke of Laharden. Still, she had encountered him often enough in the past when she served as a lady-in-waiting to Princess Consort Camella. Camella was Alix’s aunt — and Kailos’s maternal aunt as well. Each time the Grand Duke visited the capital, he would stop by the Princess Consort’s palace, and they had at least become familiar with each other’s faces over time.

His features surfaced with unsettling clarity in her mind: dark violet eyes that gleamed faintly, a sharp, defined jawline and hair as black as polished ebony. The last time she had seen him was several months ago at a banquet. Although they had never exchanged more than a few polite words, she had always considered him to be a man of quiet restraint — stern, upright, and principled.

Because he had always inquired after her well-being with measured courtesy, she had believed him to be a good man.

And yet it was Kailos himself who was now calling for her execution.

‘Does he truly believe I am a witch?’

The light drained from her eyes, fading as if engulfed by night. Lost in despair, she failed to notice that Alix was studying her face closely.

“He’s probably lashing out because he’s held a grudge against the Empire for a long time. It’s giving me a headache. I don’t understand why he blames me for his autonomy being threatened when it was his own incompetent governance that led to this.”

She was familiar with the situation in the ducal territory, having heard him talk about it countless times. After the former Grand Duke died in a young age in an accident, Kailos inherited the title, and it seemed he struggled greatly to rule his lands. There had been friction with the Empire for years, and more recently, he had openly expressed his strong dissatisfaction with the newly imposed taxation system. Not long ago, Alix said that the autonomy secured by the previous Grand Duke was in danger of being reclaimed by the Empire.

If Kailos, with no way forward or back, turned his anger towards the Empire — and towards the Emperor himself? Was that why he had obstructed Alix’s efforts to save her?

Biting down hard on her lip as these thoughts spiraled through her mind, she only lifted her gaze when a hand raised her chin. Alix looked down at her damp eyes, tears pooling on the verge of spilling, and seemed almost pleased.

Wearing his usual gentle smile, he spoke softly, as if to soothe her.

“There won’t be any trouble. I’ll do what I can, so don’t worry too much.”

His fingers, which were still beneath her chin, slowly brushed her closed lips. Once again, she was unable to resist. The only thing left for her to cling to was her lover’s embrace. When she obediently parted her lips, Alix — as though he had been waiting for that moment — slipped inside and drew her into a lingering, entangling kiss.

A sharp, stinging sensation followed, but her heart ached far more than her body, to the point that the pain barely registered. By the time he finally pulled away, she felt hollow, as though something vital had been scraped raw inside her. He brought his hand back towards her lips.

“Selie.”

Alix’s voice had dropped low and rough. Seeing the flicker of gold in his eyes, Selonia opened her mouth without thinking. Seemingly satisfied, Alix smiled faintly — there was something twisted beneath the gentleness — and moved to undo his belt.

For a long moment, Selonia stared blankly at his face, openly filled with desire for her. But was it truly a good thing that he still wanted her so desperately, even in a moment like this? The question took root in her mind, heavy and unshakable.

Whether he failed to notice the unease trembling in her eyes or simply chose to ignore it, Alix reached for the back of her head and began to deliberately and slowly guide her downwards.

“Hah… that’s good.”

“Mm—ugh…”

Once, even the lightest of his touches would have warmed her body, but now it felt utterly cold. Yet she could not possibly refuse him now. She knew that Alix was Selonia Brinne’s only remaining ally in this world.

Nausea rose in her throat, but she endured it. She clung to the faint hope that, if Alix were in a good mood, he might try harder to save her. Deep down, she knew it was wrong to think this way, but now was not the time to dwell on it. As she looked up at him, suppressing her nausea, he groaned briefly, and she finally felt air return to her lips.

“I’ve always said it — when you’re like this, you’re especially beautiful, Selonia.”

The cold gleam in his golden eyes soon darkened. Satisfied by the sight of her breathless and marked by him, Alix let out a sound thick with desire. Gripping her thigh with rough hands, he pulled her closer and entered her without restraint.

Tears slipped silently down her cheeks, between her trembling pink lashes.

***

How many days had passed? She no longer knew. At some point, her sense of time had slipped away entirely. Until a decision was made about her future, she was not permitted to leave Velua Palace. All the servants who had once worked there had naturally been reassigned elsewhere, leaving just one person to deliver her meals.

How long was she meant to wait like this? Would a witch trial really be held? If she could appear in person, she would at least want the chance to defend herself. But Alix insisted that it would only worsen the situation, assuring her that he would take care of everything himself.

The only thing offering her even the faintest glimmer of hope was the fact that Alix continued to visit her every day.

‘If only I could know something—anything—about what’s happening.’

Clinging to nothing but his love, she had spent the past six years living comfortably in the secluded palace, content to do nothing more than that. She had never considered the need to gather allies or build her own strength. Now, she regretted her complacency.

Lying on the bed, she forced herself to eat the thin soup placed before her and slowly rose to her feet. Perhaps a short walk would lift her spirits, even if only slightly. Access to the garden was forbidden, but surely walking along the corridor at a leisurely pace would be acceptable?

After choosing a simply designed dress from the wardrobe and changing into it, she carefully turned the doorknob. It was the first time she had left the bedroom since being accused of witchcraft. Although she knew she was innocent, the thought that the oppressive gazes she had endured for over six years had now turned into unchecked condemnation sent a shiver through her.

Contrary to the courage she had forced herself to summon, the corridor was completely empty — not a soul was in sight. She stepped into the hallway, where a chill lingered in the air as the weather grew colder. The sharp contrast between the warmth of her bedroom and the frigid corridor seemed to clear the fog from her mind, if only slightly, as the cold air brushed against her cheeks.

Compared to the years she had spent in this place as the Emperor’s mistress, why did confinement here now feel like freedom? Perhaps it was because all the eyes that had once watched her every move — those of the Emperor’s bewitching mistress — had finally disappeared. Or maybe it was because, with no way forward or back, she was no longer expected to do anything; this helplessness brought with it a strange sense of relief.

Staring absently at the frosty windows along the corridor, Selonia took off her velvet slippers and placed her bare feet on the marble floor. The bone-deep cold jolted her sluggish body awake. She knew that walking like this for too long might make her ill, but what did it matter? If she could borrow that piercing chill to clear her mind, even for a moment, it would be enough.

Pale feet moved softly, one step after another, along the corridor. The silence, which she had thought would endure, was broken sooner than expected. The sharp echo of high heels striking the floor shattered the stillness, drawing steadily closer from afar.

“Oh my. What a coincidence, meeting you here, Miss Brienne.”

A familiar voice — though hardly a welcome one — reached her ears. Selonia, who had been staring at her pink hair spilling over her chest, lifted her head and tried to hide her troubled expression.

Of all times to be caught wandering around barefoot like a madwoman!

The woman standing before her was Vanessa Bernac, daughter of the Duke of Bernac. Marriage negotiations had once been underway between her and Alix, when he was still the crown prince. However, after Alix ascended the throne and began keeping Selonia at his side, those plans naturally fell apart. Ever since then, Vanessa had despised Selonia with barely restrained ferocity, as though she might tear her apart if given the chance.

In stark contrast to Selonia, who was gaunt, simply dressed and barefoot, Vanessa was flawless. Her glossy golden hair was neatly plaited and secured in place, and she wore an immaculate, ornate green velvet gown.

“…Aren’t you the Duke of Bernac’s daughter? This area should be off-limits.”

Although all of the staff who had worked in the detached palace had been transferred elsewhere, there should still be imperial guards stationed outside to prevent her from escaping. How, then, had Vanessa Bernac managed to pass through them and enter this place? Masking her puzzlement, Selonia spoke calmly. Seemingly displeased by her composure, Vanessa raised her eyebrows.

The sharp click of her heels echoed as she stepped closer to Selonia.

“Selonia Brienne.”

Her name was drawn out between lips curled into a spiteful smile. Vanessa looked down at her with an expression far more relaxed and confident than ever before.

“I hear the execution by fire is on the day after tomorrow. How unfortunate. I won’t be able to attend.”