“His Highness the Crown Prince may be young, but he is by no means someone who should be underestimated. He keeps us close not out of affection, but because he finds us useful.”

Cedric was not the sort of man to shower rewards or favoritism upon those who helped him. Nevertheless, he had believed that the position of Empress would undoubtedly be given to his daughter.

“I thought the matter of the Empress’s seat would at least be easily settled, yet he hasn’t said anything about that woman.”

No one was better suited to be empress than Katrine.

With her gleaming silver hair and intelligent, piercing eyes, she bore a striking resemblance to Empress Ines. In every respect, she was a perfect match for Cedric.

Even if the Emperor turned against him, if his daughter became Empress and bore the heir, he would never be able to disregard the maternal family of his rightful successor. Even if the emperor turned against him, the duke could still secure his future through his daughter’s heir.

“I worry for you, Katrine, that the place which rightfully belongs to you is still being occupied by someone who should have long since disappeared.”

But things had taken a strange turn. Although she may have seemed insignificant, the Crown Princess was still Cedric’s official and lawful wife. If things continued as they were, she would inevitably ascend to the throne as Empress. Even if she were to die a tragic and untimely death, his daughter would still bear the title of second empress — a fact that irked him.

“Why worry about something like that, Father?”

Katrine laughed, easily discerning the reason behind his concern. Unlike her father, who was preoccupied with matters of precedence and propriety, she found them meaningless.

“You might think me foolish for saying this, but I actually rather like the fact that His Highness hasn’t cast the Crown Princess out.”

“…….”

“Do you recall how much His Highness despised her? And he’s not exactly a man known for warmth. I always believed he was someone without a heart.”

“…….”

“But now, watching how he treats her, I can tell His Highness is more human than I thought.”

“And that is what worries me. If His Highness has truly grown attached to the Crown Princess…”

“Father.”

Katrine cut him off gently, laying her hand over his in quiet assurance. Her tone brimmed with confidence.

“That’s why it’s OK. The presence of emotion means there’s movement and change. When something changes, more change is always possible.”

“…….”

“Don’t worry. I’m confident.”

“…….”

“The Crown Princess is nothing more than a powerless woman. If she has any redeeming features, it’s her looks but those will fade over time. What else could possibly make her worthy of notice?”

In Katrine’s eyes, the Crown Princess was not worth considering.

A fallen woman on the brink of ruin could never be her rival.

“Yesterday, I saw the loveliest porcelain doll at the Lerule market. It’s been on my mind ever since — it was truly exquisite. The price, though — oh, Father, you’d be shocked to hear it.”

“…….”

“Of course I wanted it. But even as my hand reached for it, I couldn’t bring myself to buy it. It’s a pretty but useless thing, good only for display. I considered buying it for its beauty alone, but how many ornaments do I already have? There’s no space for another one and I have no real use for it.”

“…….”

“The Crown Princess is exactly like that doll. No matter how pretty she is, no one truly loves a doll.”

“…….”

“What we should really be concerned about is the civil war that the late empress started. Victory is not in question, but everyone is already clamoring to take the credit for themselves.”

Katrine’s green eyes gleamed with ambition as she envisioned what would soon be within her grasp. The duke watched his daughter with both pride and unease.

“The grandest prey should be yours, Father. When His Highness ascends the throne and begins his reign, you must be the one standing closest to him, the one whose counsel carries the greatest weight.”

“…….”

“The matter of the Crown Princess should be addressed afterwards. Honestly, even if she does become Empress, it will be nothing but a farce.”

Katrine’s voice dripped with arrogance as she referred to the Crown Princess as “that woman”.

However, for someone who had just begun to emerge into a position of power, that arrogance suited her perfectly.

··· ✦ ···

It was a battle with no future.

The outcome was already clear, the cause far weaker than the opponent’s. And so, Gerard’s war was doomed from the start, a rebellion without victory, without honor, without even a proper pretext.

“Gerard, let’s leave this place. We can start anew somewhere else.”

“Mother, please. We must stop. At this rate, we’ll lose even our lives…”

“No! No, you are the one true prince! The only true son born of Laxion’s rightful Empress! You, and you alone!”

But he could not abandon her.

If he yielded to his half-brother and accepted his father’s dying words branding him a b*stard, he knew it would break his mother’s heart.

She had already been betrayed by the man she loved for a lifetime. How could he inflict another wound from which she would never recover?

“Ahh! Why! Why again! Ah—ahhh…!”

Her anguished screams tore through him. His pity for his mother held him more firmly than any chain could, and so, despite his better judgement, he followed in her footsteps.

He knew his decision would lead to many deaths, including his own. But he lacked the strength to do things differently.

The result was as inevitable as it was cruel. He never tasted victory. He had no justification, no supporters, and not even the backing of the Asterian Church, whose members had turned their backs on him the moment his father’s will had declared him illegitimate.

His mother, the woman who had broken the sanctity of marriage to seize the Empress’s throne, lost the last of her respect when she was condemned for bearing a illegitimate son.

“The Goddess watches over my rightful son. Even a single soldier in her holy army can defeat a hundred of those corrupted by the impure one who defiles her sacred throne.”

Since leaving the palace, his mother had clearly gone mad.

Only a few fanatics remained by her side, people who had also lost their sanity.

By now, everyone was whispering. They said that the fallen empress, branded a traitor to the crown, had lost her mind completely.

Ever since the battle a month earlier, when Marquis Sez her brother and Gerard’s uncle was killed, even the lowest-ranking soldiers had spoken of it openly. And, as the days passed, more men slipped away under the cover of darkness. No punishment or reward could stop them.

The army’s downfall was visible to all as its ranks thinned.

The only reason it still resembled a functioning force was Gerard himself. At first glance, he appeared to be blessed by the Goddess; in truth, however, he was the son his father had cast aside. There was something haunting about him that kept others from drawing near. Yet he led from the front without hesitation, and each time he returned alive from battle, the army’s morale lasted a little longer.

But even that endurance was nearing its end.

Following Marquis Sez’s death, his cousin, the new marquis, surrendered to Cedric. That had been four days ago. Now, they no longer had the strength to delay the inevitable.

“Your Highness.”

“Duran.”

Gerard was reflecting on his own demise when someone entered the tent and dropped to one knee before him.

Duran McWill, heir to the illustrious House of McWill, had forfeited all he had by following Gerard. He had been stripped of his inheritance and disowned by his father for choosing loyalty over blood.

Duran had been Gerard’s friend ever since the prince took up residence in the palace.

But that very friendship had ruined him.

Once a respected knight, he was now a rebel branded a traitor, his engagement broken and his family turned against him.

Gerard could not bring himself to meet Duran’s gaze as he knelt before him.

“Your Highness knows me well enough to understand. I do not cling to my life.”

“…….”

“When I followed you from the palace, I already foresaw the end. I have no regrets now. Even if I were to run to save myself, my name and face are too well known. Death in disgrace would be the only fate left

to me.”

“…….”

“Even so, I must speak.”

“…….”

“Your Highness, please surrender.”

These were the first such words to come from a truly loyal subordinate.

Gerard had heard them countless times before, but never like this.

Previously, such pleas had merely been an attempt to save their own lives, urging surrender while preparing to flee.

Now, for the first time, the words carried weight.

“Bow your head before the Crown Prince and beg him to spare your life. Humble yourself — plead, even if it shames you.”

“…….”

“It will be difficult, I know… but you must leave your mother’s side now.”

“…….”

“That is…”

“…….”

“…It is the only path left by which Your Highness might find some measure of peace in the life that remains.”

“…….”

“And the only way to save even one more soul.”

But the knight kneeling before him had a different expression to the others.

Grief and torment burned in Duran’s eyes as he pleaded desperately with his lord to abandon honor and choose life instead.

He spoke of the many lives Gerard carried as a burden of guilt, naming each one in the hope that it might pull his master back from the brink.

Gerard regarded him in silence for a long moment before helping him to his feet. Without a word, he gave a small gesture: go.

Duran parted his lips as though to argue, but the moment he met Gerard’s pale, silver eyes, his resolve faltered. He tightened his jaw and bowed deeply before stepping out of the tent.

Gerard stood still, watching the tent flap sway closed behind him. For a long time, he didn’t move.

Then, as if he had finally made a decision, he turned towards the small desk in the corner.

The faint rasp of a pen scratching against parchment filled the quiet. His hand trembled as he wrote, but eventually the motion stopped.

After reading the letter carefully once, he rose to his feet and exhaled a shallow, weary breath.

“Ah…”

Something slipped from his sleeve pocket and fell to the floor with a soft clink.

It was a simple hairpin, adorned with tiny pearl flowers.

His gaze lingered on it, his eyes growing distant and wistful. When was it…? Ah, yes: the coronation of the Callithean Emperor, which marked the end of his mother’s regency.

He hadn’t wanted to go.

When his half-brother announced that he would be going, Gerard tried to run away, but his mother caught him and made him go.

“Show your face there. Let the people of Callithea remember you.”

But Gerard did nothing of the sort.

He didn’t properly attend a single banquet, allowing all the attention to fall on his half-brother instead. He spent those days shut away in the guest villa, wandering through the palace gardens just to pass the time.

On the third or fourth day, the morning of the coronation arrived.

Having gone to bed early the previous night, he set out walking at dawn, just as the first light touched the horizon.

And there, along the fog-draped path, he saw it: a small black cat, the very image of misfortune.

“You look fine for now, but you won’t last long. What a shame to be born in the Callithean palace of all places.”

The Asterian Church considered black cats to be abominations. The priests killed them on sight, believing them to be cursed creatures.

Gerard had witnessed this horror before, when he was a child. While living with his maternal grandfather before the curse of his lineage took hold, he had secretly raised a kitten called Néa.

She was a black cat, shunned by everyone, and perhaps that was why Gerard loved her so much. She reminded him of himself: unwanted and avoided, yet still alive. He kept the tiny creature hidden in a box, feeding her scraps of food and whispering to her as if she were his only friend.

But his secret didn’t last even two weeks.

One day, his mother who had given birth to him out of wedlock and clung desperately to the Goddess for salvation found the cat.

The moment she laid eyes on the creature, she screamed. Servants came running, tore the cat from his arms, and carried it away.

Gerard never saw the cat again after that.

If that was how things were in Laxion, then in Callithea, where the Church’s influence ran far deeper, the fate of a black cat was obvious.

He stood there for a long time, watching the little animal bat gently at the swaying grass, blissfully unaware of the cruelty of the world.

“Néa!”

He froze.

He had heard a voice call out the name of his long-lost cat.

The black kitten pricked its ears, turned towards the sound, and began to meow softly as it padded eagerly towards the newcomer.

Following the cat with his gaze, Gerard stood completely still.

Even in the dim light of dawn, the woman in front of him shone so brightly that she was almost blinding. She stopped in front of the cat, then gracefully dropped to her knees.