“You little rascal. Escaping again? What will you do if you lose your way?”

The woman didn’t seem to mind the dew on the grass getting her dress hem wet. With easy grace, she reached into her long, lustrous hair and pulled out a simple hairpin adorned with tiny pearl blossoms. She waved it playfully in front of the cat.

The delighted kitten leapt and tumbled, chasing the pin’s glimmer, while the woman laughed softly a sound light and warm enough to stir the morning air.

It was only then that Gerard noticed the small collar around the cat’s neck, proof that it belonged to someone.

He stood frozen to the spot, unable to tear his eyes away from her. The way she bent to stroke the little creature, utterly unafraid and gentle, held him in place.

It was only after the woman and the cat had disappeared down the misty path that he finally blinked, his breath catching as if he were waking from a dream. For a moment, he wondered if the scene had been a mirage.

Yet he saw her again, this time at the coronation he had been reluctant to attend.

While his half-brother sat near the dais among the nobles and foreign envoys, Gerard had chosen a seat at the far end of the room, away from the court’s gaze. But when his gaze wandered and found her seated among the Callithean royals, his breath caught in his throat in stunned recognition.

“Is that woman the Princess of Callithea?”

“Yes, Your Highness. Isn’t she beautiful? There’s a reason they call her the Goddess’s incarnation and Callithea’s most radiant jewel.”

“Every man here seems just as entranced as you, Your Highness. Unfortunately, it seems the princess’s heart already belongs to our crown prince. Apparently, she has admired him ever since they first met. It’s a pity, really. His Highness has never shown much fondness for Callithean women.”

“……”
“Or perhaps I’m mistaken. Last night, His Highness seemed… surprisingly gentle toward her.”

“……”
“Your Highness? Are you listening? You haven’t forgotten what Her Majesty the Empress said, have you? This is your chance to build ties with the Callithean royal family. It would be best if you grew close to the princess.”

Upon hearing those words, Gerard hesitated.

If he befriended the princess, his mother would certainly approve. However, despite the temptation, he held back.

He had to suppress the temptation before it took root. If he grew close to the Callithean princess, the struggle for Laxion’s throne would become even more vicious.

Not wanting to oppose his half-brother, Gerard simply watched Anita from afar during the coronation banquet.

He tried not to look at her, but it was impossible.

She was a woman of many expressions, he realized. Yet no matter what expression she wore, her gaze remained fixed on his half-brother, unwavering.

“How can my brother… not even glance her way? If it were me…”

Feeling a strange heaviness in his chest, Gerard quickly drank several cups of wine and slipped out of the banquet hall.

Evading his attendants, he walked wherever his feet carried him.

His head was hazy with drink and he could not find his bearings.

Eventually, he stopped in an unfamiliar courtyard, leaning against a cold stone wall to steady himself. The cool night breeze brushed against his flushed skin as he sighed with weariness.

“Your Highness!”

A small voice called out sharply and loudly.

He turned towards the sound instinctively, his eyes widening in surprise.

Stepping quickly back into the shadows, he peered around the corner.

There she was — Anita — standing outside with one of her maids.

Despite the hint of sadness on her face, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright with restless emotion.

“I told you not to be like this, Your Highness. If you show the Crown Prince of Laxion how anxious you are, he will only look down on you further. They say that a woman should carry herself with dignity and a hint of cool indifference. That’s what makes her truly captivating.”

The starlight pouring from the heavens was caught in her pale blue eyes and scattered like frost.

Gerard couldn’t look away.

He forgot to breathe, gazing at her in silence.

“I won’t. I don’t want to do that.”

Her voice was gentle yet unwavering, striking a chord deep within him. As its warmth travelled through the night air, he realized with a start that it was hitting him right in the heart.

“No matter what Cedric is like… I love him. I mean, I love him.”

Her eyes shone as she spoke, dazzling in their sincerity.
A soft, voiceless sigh escaped him. Ah.
It was love.

In that fleeting instant, Gerard understood Anita’s feelings and at the same time, he became certain of his own.

‘A cough, smoke, and love… none can be hidden. No matter how one tries to disguise it, the truth always reveals itself.’

But the sudden love that had overwhelmed him was both fleeting and futile. It was a feeling he would never express, and it passed without meaning for either of them.

However, knowing that the heart she cherished belonged to someone else and that her love was deep and true was unbearably painful.

‘Time is already too short. I can’t waste what little I have. So I’ll just look as I wish—freely, honestly.’

Gerard had never envied Cedric before, but the idea of someone else being loved instead of him was difficult to accept.

He had always believed that he neither had the right nor the strength to resent Cedric.

His mother’s constant urging him to oppose his half-brother merely tired him.

But that night, for the first time, Gerard hated Cedric.

Jealousy flared within him like fire and a cold, sharp ache tore at his chest.

Something heavy and knotted deep inside him pressed against his heart until he could barely breathe.

Lost in that memory, Gerard slowly came back to himself.

He carefully held the pearl hairpin in his hand, staring at it as if he were looking at Anita again that night.

‘Perhaps it wasn’t only because of Mother…’

A sudden thought struck him. Was all of this truly for his mother’s sake? Or had it been because of pity for Anita—because of the quiet, forbidden feeling he held for her that he had come this far?

Thud.

Just as he tried to shake off the thought, a sharp sound split the air outside the tent. Something tore through the heavy canvas; a quivering shaft remained where it had struck.

The arrowhead gleamed coldly; its edge was so sharp that it made his skin crawl. If it had pierced just a little deeper, it would have gone straight through his skull.

“Your Highness!”

Before Gerard could fully grasp what had happened, Duran burst back into the tent. His voice was taut with urgency as he grabbed Gerard by the arm.

“An ambush, Your Highness! You must leave at once!”

Even as the words left his mouth, the enemy’s battle cries rang out. With so few soldiers left, a raid of that scale meant disaster.

“Mother!”

Gerard’s voice cracked as he ran, calling for her, the pearl hairpin still clenched tightly in his hand.

[In the name of Cedric Fion, the late sovereign’s sole and rightful heir, and crown prince of Laxion, I proclaim that all titles, fiefs, estates, and rights held by those who have committed treason against the sacred imperial authority and the honorable crown are hereby revoked. Those who have broken the law and endangered the rightful succession and the peace of the realm shall forfeit all that they have seized; it shall all be confiscated for the imperial house. People of Laxion, arrest the traitors!]

The Crown Prince’s formal edict, backed by the full force of the law, spread throughout Laxion. Having cornered the late Empress and Gerard and all but ended the civil war, Cedric proclaimed that the accused rebels were stripped of all titles, privileges and possessions. He vowed that their forces would be annihilated without mercy.

Who would dare to challenge the rising sun? Even Marquis Sez, the former rebel leader, had surrendered after his successor took command. The late Empress had been stripped of her rank and her son, Gerard, branded a b*stard and condemned as a traitor. On the same day that the decree was announced, the date of the coronation was set.

It had been a long time in the making, merely waiting for the right moment amid the chaos. In ten days, the empty throne would welcome its new sovereign. The chosen day, just before Laxion’s hottest season, was perfect for the ceremony, and the palace was abuzz with activity as servants worked tirelessly to ensure every detail was perfect.

The nobles who had already gathered in the capital were urged to prepare their finest attire and offerings for the new emperor, and their households were alive with anticipation for the endless banquets to come. Meanwhile, commoners poured into the city, eager to catch a glimpse of their new ruler. They sighed with relief when they found rooms and carriages before prices soared, and the streets of Laxion hummed with rising excitement.

Yet, despite everything, Cedric showed no sign of elation. He seemed preoccupied only with business and preparations. Even after the late emperor’s funeral, he no longer displayed the overt hostility towards his political opponents and the Asterian clergy that he had once displayed as crown prince.

“His late sovereign declared the crown prince to be the rightful heir. Besides, the late empress and the second prince, the traitors, are, for all intents and purposes, already dead. With the majority of the realm supporting His Highness, why create new enemies?”

“If that’s true, then does that mean his recent composure is all an act? But I don’t believe that. He cannot have forgotten the fate of his mother, the former Empress. Even if the late emperor spoke of unity in his final moments, how much weight does a dying father’s wish truly carry with his son?”

“Think of how he behaves, before he draws his sword, he grows unnervingly silent. It’s the stillness before a storm. Indeed.”

Some whispered that, by absorbing his former rivals and shedding the ostentatious hostility he had once displayed to rally his allies, Cedric was merely consolidating his power. Yet those who had long stood close to him spoke in hushed tones of warning, he was calm only because something vast and irreversible was about to begin.

“Very well. I will carry out the order as directed.”

Cedric paid no heed to the whispers that followed him. Even while walking, he gave clear instructions, each word measured and each gesture precise. It was only when he reached the corridor leading to his private chambers that he lifted a hand to silently dismiss the officials trailing behind him.

He crossed the sun-drenched hall with only a few attendants and guards remaining at his side.

Beyond the arched windows lay the palace garden, serene and untouched by the realm’s turmoil. The late afternoon light poured over the white blossom, gilding its delicate petals in gold as a soft breeze stirred through it. Cedric paused mid-step, his expression unreadable, watching the flowers tremble — fragile, yet unbroken, beneath the wind’s touch.

Then, without a word, he turned and continued forward.

With every hallway he traversed, his retinue thinned. Some veered off at one junction, some at another, until, upon crossing the final doorway, he was alone. Not a trace of his escort remained.

“Your Highness.”

Three maids greeted Cedric outside his bedroom. He nodded briefly in acknowledgement before stopping at the door. One of the maids stepped forward, knocking softly before opening the door with practiced care.

Cedric entered in silence. The moment he stepped inside, the maids including those already inside bowed deeply and withdrew.

Click.

The door closed behind him.

The setting sun shone dimly through the gauzy curtains, bathing the room in a faint, sombre light. Cedric frowned at the haze and moved towards the window. Reaching out, he pulled one of the curtains wide open.