“K*ll them! Sl*ughter those hypocrites!”
“Food! Give it up—now!”

The city gates were firmly closed and the surrounding loyal territories had reinforced their defenses in anticipation of a prolonged siege. They were ready to withstand an ass*ult and strike back in order to one day restore the goddess’s honor.

But the collapse came from within. The unyielding gates were torn open, and the starving masses rose with torches in hand. The knights tried to suppress the chaos, only to watch their own soldiers disappear one by one — or turn their weap*ns on them.

Like a dam bursting, the chaos spread with devastating force. Was this fate decreed by the goddess, or had someone   or perhaps many fanned a dying ember into a roaring blaze?

Whatever the cause, the Callithean throne was ruined. The rebels moved as though they had been waiting for this very moment. The Emperor, the Empress Dowager, and several of their closest aides were taken captive. With only a small group of people, too few to be called an army, they seized the emperor and used him as bait to force open the gates of other strongholds, sweeping across the land with frightening speed.

Count Yuz’s letter recounted these events and conveyed news of the Empress and her twin children. Having fled with them, he sent the letter with all the strength he had left. The heir had not yet been captured by the rebels.

[Please help us]

He begged.

How could anyone remain sane after reading such news? It was better to be trapped in that hideous nightmare — at least it would only be a nightmare.

Holding the letter tightly, Anita ran, barely holding herself together, determined to reach the one person she could cling to.

··· ✦ ···

Cedric already seemed to know that she was coming. Even though she was being shadowed by guards within the Crown Prince’s palace, it would have been impossible for her not to have heard the news by this point.

The reason Count Yuz’s letter had reached her so swiftly, unlike the others was precisely because of that.

“The date of execution’s been set, I just heard. Two weeks from now, so your brother is still alive for now.”

The captured Emperor of Callithea had been tried swiftly under the control of the rebel faction. Anita’s brother, Ernst Hardyde, had been imprisoned and sentenced to death about a week earlier.

“I’ll say this so there’s no misunderstanding: you can’t save him. Even if you could, it would be fitting for him to die. What could be more disgraceful than a foreign power freeing an emperor? He wouldn’t be able to live with the shame.”

Hearing her brother referred to by name alone, and not as the Emperor, Anita understood the truth at once. Under the rebels’ unlawful tribunal, her brother had already been stripped of his throne. Other nations including Laxion had accepted that the dethroned Ernst Hardyde would not live long, and were already acting on this knowledge.

Nevertheless, he would be referred to as Emperor in foreign lands long after his death. Callithea had once been an empire, and even in its broken state, there was still much to covet.

Laxion and the other neighboring nations had probably been waiting for this moment. They had been debating whether to recognize the rebels’ rule, but then they saw the perfect chance to slip in, bargain, and profit from the chaos.

“And what about my mother?”

Anita asked Cedric, her face pale and her body barely able to stay upright. He nodded towards a chair, urging her to sit down. But she remained standing, meeting his gaze head-on.

“She won’t be dragged before the crowd. Her past generosity had finally paid off. It seems she used something she had received from someone that day.”

Suddenly, the world went dark. Despite the death sentence, her brother was still alive. But her mother was already…

She was a mother who had always condemned s*icide as the gravest of sins. Now the root of everything Anita was or had been torn out. She staggered, unsteady.

Unable to watch any longer, Cedric stepped forward and held out his hand. Anita flinched and swatted his hand away before it could reach her shoulder. Struggling to breathe, she managed to force out a trembling, strained voice.

“The children—Karl and Belle.”

“……”

“M-my niece and nephew… please. At least save them and their mother. Please.”

Carlos and Isabelle, her twin niece and nephew, were only six years old. Knowing in her heart that her brother could not be saved, Anita clung to Cedric’s sleeve in desperation. If nothing else, she wanted his wife and children to survive.

Cedric looked down at her, taking in her pale, trembling face and the way she held onto him, as though she might crumble to the floor at any moment. The twins, innocent and born of royal blood, were far too young to understand any of this.

But they were royalty and those born to such a throne were destined to pay the price, no matter how short their lives might be. From what he knew, the fleeing Empress of Callithea and her children had probably already been captured, or would be soon.

And who, after all, had ruined their chance to escape? Who sent twenty-two ships, each carrying envoys prepared to negotiate with the rebels? Who had incited hatred among the starving masses and hastened Callithea’s downfall? Who could now observe the collapse of a kingdom from afar when news should have taken weeks to arrive?

“You saw it, you knew all of this already!”

Cedric’s thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sound of a piece of paper hitting his chest. Anita had thrown a letter at him; her sobs had turned into cries.

She was overwhelmed by the weight of loss and guilt. Being alive itself felt unbearable. Her insides twisted until she thought they might tear apart, yet he remained silent. He wore that same calm, expressionless face.

“You knew about all of this before it happened, didn’t you? Is that why? Is that why you said nothing to me all this time?”

“……”

“Were you afraid I’d beg you to save my brother? Is that it? Why… why! You knew everything, how could you! How could you!”

Her voice cracked, turning into an unrecognizable, raw scream. She was no longer aware of what she was saying; she was only aware that the sound was being forced from her throat, as if her grief was being clawed into the air. And yet, this outburst was something she had fought to hold back for too long.

“Your Highness…”

Her breath came in short, frantic gasps. The focus began to fade from her eyes. Between broken sobs, her expression shifted, first dazed, then hollow. She released Cedric’s sleeve and looked from her trembling hands to his face, repeatedly shaking her head. A strange, broken sound escaped her lips, halfway between a gasp and a whimper. She looked on the verge of collapse, as if her mind was about to give way.

“…I—I’m sorry. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Anita seized Cedric’s arm and lowered herself until her hands rested on his boot. Glancing up once, she then bowed her head at his feet in such a submissive manner that she might have kissed them, begging desperately.

“Your Highness.”

“……”

“They’re only six. They’re just children. They don’t understand, they’ll be left fatherless and trembling—”

“You mean the direct line of Hardyde.”

Cedric cut her off before she could finish. He pronounced the name ‘Hardyde’ as if to declare, albeit indirectly, that he would not lift a hand for the twin prince and princess. The words hit Anita like a blow. Her pale face, clinging to his in despair, froze, and then contorted. The hatred she directed at him was unlike anything he had ever experienced from her before. Instinctively, he clenched his fist. The secret he kept about the twins tightened like a noose around his throat.

“I don’t understand why you blame me.”

He said, looking at her hands instead of her eyes. Her grip trembled violently. Seeing this sparked an odd emotion in him, which was quickly followed by irritation.

“It was your brother and House Hardyde who failed to put things right in the first place. They took Callithea’s throne, and then it crumbled so easily. Pathetic.”

“Stop!”

This time, it was Anita who interrupted him. For the first time, Cedric fell silent unintentionally. She withdrew her hand, which she had raised towards him.

“Must I bear your reproach even now? Must I stand here and listen while you insult my family?”

She staggered to her feet and glared at him. What had she expected from a man like this? Despite sharing a terrible night together, had she really hoped for anything? He was the kind of person who would say such things in front of someone who had just lost family members.

Anita clenched her fists, forcing down the urge to strike him. There was no time to waste on such things. Rather than clinging to someone with no hope, she would seek out others and beg them for help.

Without hesitation, she turned to go. Without a moment’s pause, Cedric’s hand shot out and caught her arm. Anita twisted hard to pull free.

“Let go.”

“……”

“Let go! Let go!”

“…Where do you think you’re going?”

Cedric pulled his wife close, grabbing her forcefully. He twisted her face around, forcing her to look at him, but she kept looking behind her.