[To His Beloved Highness, the Crown Prince,

I send this letter to ask how Your Highness has been keeping in these unending rains.
It would be proper to speak to you in person, yet knowing how occupied you are, I beg your forgiveness for conveying my thoughts in this way instead.

Through the grace of Their Majesties and Your Highness, I have been living without discomfort. However, in my homeland of Callithea, years of poor harvests and the unrest caused by lawless men have brought grave hardship upon the people.

Thus, out of a small but earnest wish to share in the burden of my elder brother His Imperial Majesty of Calithea, I humbly plead for Your Highness’s permission.

I wish to sell a few of my personal jewels and possessions to send provisions that might ease my homeland’s suffering. Of course, these are not the property of the Royal House of Laxion, and I swear upon my honor that neither Their Majesties nor Your Highness’s good name shall in any way be compromised.

Yet, as I am well aware that in my position I can act on nothing without Your Highness’s consent, I therefore beg humbly for your approval.

I only hope that what I intend may not displease Your Highness, and with that wish, I end this letter with the greatest care.

With deepest respect,
Anita Fion]

··· ✦ ···

The autumn rains lingered, bringing with them an unusual gloom. All day, the rain came and went in bursts, beating insistently against the windowpanes while the wind rattled the frames. The damp air seeping in through the gaps carried with it the faint, decaying scent of fallen leaves, adding to the sense of unease already filling the room.

By now, Cedric would dismiss those around him several times a day and shut himself away in his chambers. Sometimes he would retreat for ten minutes, other times for hours or even half a day. No one dared to speak of the Crown Prince’s peculiar behavior.

Outwardly, the palace appeared serene as ever. Yet the servants moving quietly through the halls were on edge, their senses sharpened. Even the clatter of bowls was suppressed for fear of breaking the fragile silence. The air in the palace seemed laced with invisible thorns: taut, sharp, and ready to prick at the slightest disturbance.

Rumble.

Cedric, who had fallen asleep in his chair, was woken by a beast-like growl. His bloodshot eyes blinked wearily. Heavy clouds choked out the remaining daylight, plunging the room into darkness. Without so much as a blink, Cedric stared into the distance for a long moment. Then, tok, tok, tok, the rain began tapping against the window again, and he clenched his hand tightly around the armrest. The pressure made the wood creak, the sound trembling faintly through his body.

“I’ll give you a chance.”

The gentle voice of a woman was accompanied by the sensation of damp air brushing against his face. The faint metallic scent of rain brought back vivid memories, flooding his vision.

His breath caught. He sprang to his feet, his eyes snapping open, and yanked at the bell cord with a rough, urgent motion.

Before the rope had even stopped trembling, a servant rushed in. Cedric ordered the room to be lit and told the servant to summon his attendants so that he could resume work. His face was calm and expressionless once more, betraying nothing; it seemed as though nothing had happened at all.

Hours passed in this way. The rain continued to beat against the windows, the heavy air clung to his sleeves, and the musty smell of rotting elm leaves remained unchanged. Amidst all this, Cedric continued his routine of reviewing stacks of documents, hearing reports from his aides and issuing commands.

As always, his work was flawless and his demeanor composed. Yet his subordinates remained tense, wary of making even the slightest mistake.

Cedric’s duties as Crown Prince ended after midnight. Leaving only Dian behind, he stood gazing at the rain that had finally ceased. Its reflection in the dark window showed the silhouette of his subordinate.

“…You said she prayed searching for the goddess?”

Although the question lacked a subject, Dian instantly knew who his lord was referring to. He hadn’t intended to report the matter at all, yet it seemed that one of those eager-to-please servants had already gone and told the prince everything.

“It was nothing out of the ordinary, Your Highness. She made no offering, nor did she invoke any divine name. After waking up, she prayed for a moment in her chamber with a lady-in-waiting from Callithea. It seemed she’d had a nightmare, likely due to the situation in Callithea.”

It was an unfortunate time of year.

As the day approached, Dian’s master became increasingly sharp-tongued. While he remained composed, his judgements turned merciless and cold. If the enemy before him was one he’d long kept in his sights, he would strike without hesitation.

“Too many words, Dian. I didn’t ask for such needless details.”

Perhaps his unintentional defense of the Crown Princess had annoyed Cedric. Cedric’s cutting tone caused Dian to lower his head at once. The prince stared at his subordinate’s reflection trembling faintly in the windowpane for a moment, then muttered under his breath.

“She never learns. I’ve warned her time and again… Why does she keep testing my patience”

“……”

“Then and now, always the same…”

Though his voice remained calm, the bitterness beneath it was unmistakable. Breaking off mid-sentence, Cedric turned around. Facing the still, rigid Dian, he spoke in a voice like ice.

“Increase the support to Callithea.”

The words landed like a blow. Dian’s mouth went dry as realization dawned. ‘Support to Callithea’—it was not an order to aid the imperial family to which the Crown Princess belonged. It meant to lend support to the rebels rising against them.

“Your Highness, that’s far too dangerous. If we continue at this pace… the Callithean imperial house could truly collapse. Should that happen, there will be massacres, countless slaughters like the one at Exegisio Fortress. It’s not the time yet.”

“It’s bound to happen sooner or later. The only difference is that it will happen a little earlier.”

Dian faltered, lost for words. He knew the plan as well as his master did: within a few years, the Callithean dynasty would fall. But something about this felt wrong. He felt a sense of duty pressing upon him, urging him to stop his lord, at least for now.

“But if His Majesty were to learn of this…”

“He won’t.”

Cedric’s interruption was calm but absolute. Dian hesitated, wondering if he should beg his master once more to reconsider. But when his eyes met Cedric’s, the words died in his throat.

“As always, you are more than capable of ensuring that.”

Perhaps Cedric had read something in Dian’s expression, because he drove the nail in further. At that moment, Dian felt his heart sink.

Although it was his lord’s command, he himself was one of the main architects of the plan to overthrow the Callithean imperial house.

He had even volunteered to take the lead. Logically, he should have been pleased that the plan was moving ahead of schedule. And yet, why did the words refuse to leave his lips?

At last, with great effort, Dian managed to speak.

“I shall obey, Your Highness.”

When his subordinate replied, Cedric shifted in his chair. He opened a small box of cigars and gestured for Dian to take a seat. When she took the seat opposite him, he lit a cigar and fixed his gaze on the darkened window. His eyes glimmered faintly as he thought of the letter he had recently received from Anita.

“One more thing.”

The faint smile on his lips was chilling. His eyes, devoid of warmth, turned toward someone unseen as he continued.

“Report to the princess. Every hour, if you must.”

As a shadow fell across Dian’s face, Cedric’s expression brightened. A tenacious, twisted and cold hatred leaked from his ashen eyes.

“Tell her exactly how Callithea is falling. One by one, tell her what becomes of those she once knew.”

There was no doubt as to who the pitiable person was. The Crown Princess, who was still ill and confined to her bed nearby, was under constant surveillance and knew nothing.

“Don’t leave out a single thing that might cause that woman to suffer. Not one.”

But what could be done? From the moment she stepped forward beneath the wedding roses on that warm spring day, her fate was sealed.

By choosing to abandon her title as Princess of Callithea in order to become Crown Princess of Laxion, she had put her neck on the line.

··· ✦ ···

[…My dear sister. The situation here is gradually improving, so do not be anxious or afraid. Rumors are always exaggerated, darker than the truth. I have found peace again, and our whole family lives without fear.
The fact that things have come this far owes much to you, your life in Laxion has surely helped us. I am always sorry for that, and grateful.
So, rather than worrying from afar, take care of your own health. I shall write again soon.
With all my love,
—Ern.”]

By the time she had reached the end of the letter, her slender hands were trembling. A moment later, heavy tears started falling, one by one.

Anita quickly wiped them away, afraid that the precious letter might get wet. But she could not stop the flood within her. Overwhelmed, she finally put the letter down and turned away, unable to bear the ache in her chest.

The letter from Ernst, the Emperor of Callithea and Anita’s elder brother, had taken more than a month to reach her.

In it, he briefly wrote about the current state of Callithea, repeatedly emphasizing that there was no cause for concern. He had even filled the margins with light-hearted anecdotes, seemingly to put his sister’s mind at ease.

However, a week earlier, Anita had received another letter from Adele, her brother’s wife. Delivered secretly and without Ernst’s knowledge, it described the deteriorating situation in Callithea and her brother’s failing health in painful detail.

Adele, who was both empress and Anita’s sister-in-law, had set aside all imperial dignity to beg for help; her words were filled with fear and desperation.

What broke Anita the most, though, were the names of her twin nieces, mentioned near the end of the letter, the lines marred by visible tear stains. Seeing this tore at Anita’s heart.

“Why… Ernst. You fool.”

She felt hurt and betrayed. She was upset that her brother had not been honest with her about how bad things were in their homeland, and that he had not asked for her help.

However, this resentment was misplaced. Guilt, helplessness and fear for her family, especially her brother, truly filled her heart.

Beneath the voluminous folds of her gown, her chest heaved violently. Unable to steady herself, she buried her face in the bed and wept.

··· ✦ ···

“The Crown Prince has said… Her Highness may visit whenever she wishes.”

The unexpected message from the attendant came as a shock to both Anita and Renee. Anita, who had requested an audience with Cedric, could hardly believe her ears — nor could her maid.

The man who had ignored all her previous letters and never replied, not even with a simple ‘I am busy’ or ‘We cannot meet’, had now granted her an immediate audience.

Anita, who had expected to wait for hours as usual, felt her heart sink at the thought of being received so easily.

She told the attendant that she would come at once, quickly straightened her clothes and got up to leave. However, as she walked through the corridor and across the colonnade towards Cedric’s chambers, her steps became slower and heavier.

‘Still… there’s no one else I can turn to but Cedric.’

Although her brother had told her not to worry, every rumor she heard suggested otherwise; the Callithean imperial family was in grave danger.

Despite his plea for her to look after her health and do nothing more, Anita had resolved to act in order to ensure the safety of Callithea and her family.

Initially, she had considered appealing directly to Gerard, or even to the Empress herself rather than to her husband. However, the Emperor had recently been unwell and was not receiving visitors, including the Crown Prince and the Empress.

As for Gerard, asking him was no simple matter. Although he had shown her personal kindness, like the Empress, Gerard was politically opposed to Cedric. Besides, the recent rumors she had heard about him left her feeling uneasy.

“They say the Crown Princess has been meeting with the Second Prince in secret.”

“In secret? I’d say quite openly. Why else would the Second Prince suddenly take an interest in politics and start siding with Callithea? Who knows, perhaps he means to follow the example of his ancestors and make his sister-in-law his wife.”

“How disgraceful.”

The rumors had spread so widely that even Anita, an outsider to the imperial court, had heard them.

How could she possibly ask Gerard for help in these circumstances? Although she was grateful for his previous help, she felt an underlying sense of obligation towards him that she could not shake off.

Thus, there was only one person left to whom Anita could turn: The man bound to her by marriage, regardless of his opinion of her, whose fate was entwined with hers: Cedric.

Just thinking of his name made her heart pound, and before she knew it, she was outside the Crown Prince’s office. The attendant waiting outside bowed deeply and gestured for her to follow.

“This way, Your Highness the Crown Princess.”

To her surprise, he led her not to the office but to Cedric’s private reception room. It was the first time she had been treated as a proper guest, and for a brief, fragile moment, a spark of hope flickered in her uneasy heart.

“His Highness is waiting inside.”

The attendant opened the door. Leaving Renee and the maids outside, Anita swallowed hard and stepped in.

Thud.

The door shut firmly behind her the instant she crossed the threshold. And there standing alone in the well-lit room was the man she had come to see.