“Nell! Where is Nell?!”

Contrary to what anyone might have assumed, Lorelei’s ‘confinement’ to her chambers was like a prison sentence.

Meals were delivered three times a day, but she had no say in what she ate and had to accept whatever the attendants placed before her.

Snacks and tea were completely forbidden.

If she threw a tantrum because she disliked a dish, nothing would be brought to her until the next scheduled meal.

She no longer had a personal maid at her side. She had to wash her own face, dress herself, and do everything else by herself.

Water was only provided twice a day, in the morning and evening, so the luxurious baths she used to enjoy were no longer an option.

Aside from lying down and covering herself with a blanket, she was not permitted to do anything else. The surroundings were lavish, yes, but life inside was no different to life in a cell.

Lorelei was slowly losing her mind.

If they wanted to punish her, they should have exiled her from the palace or demanded a public apology. This was nothing short of slow, deliberate t*rture.

She clutched at her brittle, neglected hair and stared at the room. It had once been luxurious, but was now stripped of its former splendor.

She had shattered everything within her reach. In the past, anything she broke would be immediately replaced with something even finer.

Now, whatever she destroyed simply stayed broken.

That was the end of it.

No one answered her screams anymore. When the maids came in to clean, they moved in cold, efficient silence and left as quickly as possible.

Having lived her entire life surrounded by attendants, companions, and constant chatter, Lorelei now realized how precious that had been.

There had always been someone to talk to, someone who responded to every unreasonable complaint and careless word. But this realization did not make her wiser or kinder.

It didn’t change her heart. It only made her think of the one person who had always responded to her without fail.

From that day on, Lorelei began searching for Nell.

She screamed Nell’s name until her throat burned.

She asked the maid who delivered her meals.

She questioned anyone who entered her room.

Where was Nell?

The arrogant little thing who had blocked her path and who Lorelei was certain she could tear apart with her bare hands—where was she?

But no one answered.

Not a single person.

In that silence, Lorelei began to wither.

She almost wished they would simply throw her out of the palace. Being locked in a room, unable to do anything or go anywhere, would be unbearable for anyone. For someone who had been pampered all her life, it was t*rture.

She had already given up halfway through. It felt like everything would end like this: unseen, unheard and forgotten.

Most of her days were spent lying down: on the bed, on the sofa or even on the floor.

The carpet was soft enough that she could fall asleep there without any discomfort.

And often, she did.

If she slept through mealtimes, the maids would come and go quietly, leaving food, fresh clothes and wash water. No more than that.

As a result, Lorelei became increasingly lethargic. She spent most of the day lying on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling.

She ate once a day, twice if she happened to be awake. But most of the time, she slept straight through mealtimes. But now, she could no longer tell if any of it was wrong.

Her days had become repetitive: waking up, eating, washing, changing clothes.

Then lying in bed all day.

Just when that hollow routine began to feel normal, the door suddenly opened.

***

“Lorelei is practically in prison already.”

Late at night, Kieron and the Marquis of Peyton went to see the emperor. They wanted to discuss the treatment of Princess Lorelei and offer their recommendations.

They had requested a private audience, which was granted.

Even at this late hour, they walked through a hidden passageway that led directly to the Emperor’s office, where they were received in silence.

When they mentioned Lorelei, the emperor responded that, for all intents and purposes, she was already imprisoned and that leaving things as they were was punishment enough.

Lorelei was confined to her chambers with no attendants, cut off completely from outside information, and forbidden to speak to anyone who entered.

She was isolated in every sense of the word.

The Emperor had locked her inside the most luxurious prison imaginable.

“So Your Majesty intends to keep her in the palace like this indefinitely?”

“…I wish for the child to repent on her own.”

The emperor responded heavily to the Marquis’s question. His hesitation was understandable: he wanted his daughter to reflect on her actions, repent, and make a fresh start.

However, given Lorelei’s condition, this seemed an unrealistic hope.

Kieron recalled Sylvia’s maid saying that Lorelei looked like a soulless doll.

He shook his head.

“If that is Your Majesty’s wish, shouldn’t she be exposed to more? If you keep her locked away without direction, she will only nurture unreasonable hatred.”

People learn through action, movement and experiencing new things.

Although there are epiphanies that can be reached through stillness, these come after life has moved, not in an empty void.

Simply staring at a blank page would never generate new thoughts.

Kieron had no trust whatsoever in Lorelei’s nature.

All her life, she had used those beneath her as tools to achieve her own ends.

She had never understood the importance of other people’s lives or realized that their reputations mattered as much as her own.

She was selfish and greedy.

Keeping someone like that isolated in a luxurious palace room would never change her.

Never.

So Kieron advised the emperor to remove her from the palace.

“Assign her one loyal maid or knight. That would be far better for the princess.”

“She has never once set foot outside the palace gates.”

Even after Kieron offered a reasonable solution, the emperor’s expression only darkened. His lingering affection for his daughter was plain to see.

Kieron had never been a parent, but he could still understand that feeling.

Even so—

“We cannot leave someone unpredictable in this state forever.”

“I will handle that myself. Let us speak no further of it.”

The emperor’s tone made it clear that the discussion was over.

He was firm.

He said that he did not wish to torment his daughter any further and that he had already done enough. He told them not to press the matter again.

However, everyone present knew that this alone was not enough.

“Your Majesty, at times the world outside is safer for a child.”

Parents could be an unconditional shield, but not always the best one.

The Marquis of Peyton quietly supported Kieron’s words.

“And besides Princess Lorelei, Your Majesty has two other children who also require protection.”

“Are you really going to abandon the other two just to protect one?”

The Marquis’s blunt question caused the Emperor’s face to tighten. It seemed he had not considered how his two youngest children felt while he was focused solely on Lorelei.

Seeing that expression, Kieron spoke softly.

“His Highness the young prince told me he is afraid of his elder sister.”

“…The prince said that?”

The young prince was still a child in need of the imperial family’s absolute protection.

Hadn’t the emperor appointed Lorelei as the future crown princess precisely to ensure her safety by placing her at the heart of the imperial household?

The emperor buried his face in his hands, unable to answer. He had believed he was acting in the prince’s best interests, yet everything had turned sour.

In that moment, he didn’t look like a ruler at all.

He looked like a troubled father.

Kieron had always seen him as a cold, calculating sovereign, but watching him struggle with the consequences of his decisions made him realize that the emperor was human, too.

Kieron spoke again, his voice firm and calm.

“Unlike Princess Lorelei, Her Highness Princess Sylvia will remain by the prince’s side as he grows. What matters now is deciding who is in the greatest need of protection.”

As long as Lorelei remained in the palace, the young prince would continue to live in her shadow. Even if she was confined to her chambers, it was impossible to predict what would happen once the emperor had left.

People could not speak freely in her presence.

They could not celebrate without restraint.

Earlier, when Kieron had spoken with the prince and empress before coming here, they had confessed their fear that they would never be free of her.

Her presence terrified them.

The emperor was visibly shaken by their admission. He had always thought that Lorelei was just a little spoilt — nothing more. He had never imagined that the situation had become so serious. He had not realized that the prince feared his own sister.

After all, whenever the two of them were around each other, they acted as though they were the closest of siblings.

“Does the empress feel the same?”

“Her Majesty also places her trust in Princess Sylvia rather than Princess Lorelei.”

“…I see.”

Despite spending the most time with his family, he had not known the truth about them.

This realization left him feeling bitter and ashamed.

As a father.

As a husband.

Had age clouded his vision and dulled his hearing?

Then he heard Sylvia’s voice, raised in frustration before she left for her honeymoon, echoing through his mind again.

“Father, I am your child too. My sister isn’t the only one.”

At that moment, he wondered why that particular memory had come to mind.

After a long silence during which he wrestled with his thoughts, his face shadowed by conflict and weariness, the emperor slowly opened his mouth.

“Princess Lorelei is…”