When the banquet ended, Theodor swiftly returned to his private guest quarters.

Someone was already waiting inside—his shadow knight.

“Your Highness.”

The knight greeted, emerging from a dimly lit corner.

As his title suggested, he was Theodor’s secret blade—a knight who remained hidden in the shadows and silently carried out covert, dangerous missions.

“Did you find it?”

Theodor’s voice was low but firm.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The knight reached inside his cloak and presented him with a bundle of documents.

“I retrieved these while Lord Carlo Shiren was meeting with Duke Crussian. I entered the Duke’s office without being detected.”

Earlier that day, Carlo had attended the banquet as Roselina’s partner. When he visited the Duke’s estate beforehand, Theodor had discreetly sent his shadow knight with him under the guise of a servant.

That had allowed the knight to move freely through the estate and uncover what others could not.

“……!!”

Disgust twisted Theodor’s features as he read through the documents.

Duke Crussian—one of the empire’s most respected nobles—had been exposed for what he truly was: a central figure within the empire’s criminal underworld.

He controlled trade networks that dealt in slaves, narcotics, and even deadly poisons.

Theodor’s grip tightened around the documents. Then something written on one of the pages caught his attention.

There was… something peculiar about one of the contracts.

The name written upon it did not belong to Duke Crussian.

Instead, it belonged to someone Theodor had never heard of—

“Crook Zegner.”

“As you can see, Your Highness, the market’s registered owner is Crook Zegner.”

Theodor clenched his jaw.

“The Duke must be using him as a front. He is cautious enough to ensure that someone expendable will take the blame if anything goes wrong.”

The documents rustled softly in his hands, but Theodor’s thoughts had already drifted away from the present.

Memories he had buried deep within himself clawed their way back to the surface—memories of the day his mother, the Crown Princess, was disgraced and cast aside.

It was a wound that had never healed.

Even now, he could hear the furious voices echoing throughout the throne room.

“The Crown Princess has been secretly distributing a lethal poison throughout the empire! A single drop is enough to kill a man instantly, Your Majesty!”

The accusation had come from Marquis Valency, Empress Scarlett’s father.

“Watch your tongue, Marquis! Theodor’s father, who was still the Crown Prince at the time, had roared. Do you possess any proof that my wife was involved in such a crime?”

But the Marquis had come prepared—far too prepared.

“Indeed, we do, Your Highness. The Crown Princess’s signature was discovered in the confiscated ledgers of the poison market. The man responsible for distributing the poison testified that he acted under her orders—and even her own lady-in-waiting confessed to assisting her.”

“My wife’s… lady-in-waiting……?!”

“Yes, Your Highness. Furthermore, the poison itself was discovered within the Crown Princess’s residence. What further evidence could possibly be required?”

That day, the truth had been smothered beneath fabricated evidence and political deception.

And Theodor’s mother had lost everything.

Now, as he stared at Crook Zegner’s name, Theodor felt that same icy fury rising within his chest—the unmistakable taint of Scarlet’s corruption, still poisoning everything it touched.

Every piece of evidence had implicated Theodor’s mother.

At the time, Marquis Valency’s influence had been absolute.

No faction had dared to defend the Crown Princess. Without a powerful family or political faction to support her, she was swiftly branded a criminal.

Worse still, the former Emperor—Theodor’s grandfather—had always disapproved of his son’s marriage to the daughter of a fallen noble family.

Therefore, when Marquis Valency presented his accusations, the Emperor readily seized upon them as an excuse to end the marriage he had always despised.

It was the perfect opportunity to rid himself of a daughter-in-law he had never wanted.

And so, within a mere three months, the Crown Princess was executed as a criminal, and Scarlett Valency—the Marquis’s own daughter—took her place as the new Crown Princess.

His mother’s sudden death.

His father’s despair after losing the woman he loved.

The new Crown Princess, who regarded Theodor with cold and disapproving eyes.

Everything had changed in an instant.

That day, Theodor swore that he would have his revenge.

Now, as he held the documents his shadow knight had risked his life to retrieve, he felt that solemn vow stirring within him once more—like an old wound being torn open.

“I discovered something unusual while investigating the Duke, Your Highness.”

Theodor narrowed his eyes.

“Something unusual?”

The knight handed him another document. As Theodor read its contents, his expression hardened before giving way to deep contemplation.

He carefully slipped the document inside his coat and murmured, almost to himself,

“Perhaps… the alliance between Empress Scarlet and Duke Crussian is not as strong as I believed.”

His heart, long frozen by bitterness, began to pound—steady and fierce.

For the first time in years, his revenge finally seemed close enough to grasp.

***

Carlo was finally enjoying a rare day of rest at his estate.

He had been very busy lately, so his sudden seclusion quickly became the subject of gossip.

Rumors spread that his relationship with Roselina had fallen apart — rumors that Carlo himself had deliberately started.

“My lord, Lady Roselina has sent another messenger.”

As he lounged in the garden, Carlo’s lips curved into a cold, amused smile.

Ever since the day after the banquet, Roselina had sent messengers to him without fail.

The once-proud noblewoman had abandoned every trace of dignity, reduced to a desperate woman clinging to a man who no longer cared enough to answer her.

“She appeared quite desperate… and rather pitiful. What shall we do?”

“Send them away.”

“Yes, my lord.”

After the attendant departed, Carlo chuckled beneath his breath as he recalled what had happened that night.

“My lord! P-Please, wait!”

Roselina had desperately seized his arm as he turned to leave, but Carlo had shaken her off without hesitation.

“I do not wish to see you again. Loving you has already caused me enough pain… Do not make this any harder for me than it already is.”

Her tear-streaked, pleading face had appeared pitiful. Yet to Carlo, it was merely the final act of a performance he had meticulously planned.

Carlo had left Roselina behind without the slightest hesitation.

Everything was unfolding precisely as he intended.

He planned to leave her drowning in desperation a little longer—to make her pursue him and beg for his affection.

To Carlo, a woman’s heart was pitifully easy to manipulate.

As he sat in the garden, quietly mocking that very thought, Laila returned to the mansion.

She had just come from the imperial palace, where she had been preparing for her imminent deployment to the battlefield.

Upon reaching the front gate, she noticed a man pacing anxiously nearby.

“Another messenger from Lady Roselina?”

“Yes, Commander.”

The moment Laila approached, the messenger dropped to his knees.

“Commander, please—please deliver this letter to Lord Carlo Siren!”

Laila frowned slightly. She had been in a pleasant mood only moments earlier.

Although the date of her deployment was fast approaching, her heart had felt light because Carlo appeared to have honored his promise—to stop playing with Roselina’s affections.

After all, the lady’s continued attempts to contact him every day proved just how desperate she had become.

‘So Carlo truly meant what he said.’

The thought lifted Laila’s spirits, filling her with pride and relief. But when she saw the man kneeling and trembling before her, that pleasant feeling quickly faded.

Fear filled his eyes, and his hands shook violently as he held out the letter.

“Did Lady Roselina order you not to return until you had delivered it?”

Laila had merely asked to make certain, yet the man immediately flinched and looked up at her with frightened eyes.

“N-No, that is not it, my lady…….”

He could not bring himself to explain, but Laila could easily guess the truth.

‘She must have threatened to dismiss him—or perhaps even harm his family if he failed.’

It had already been a week since Roselina began sending messengers to Carlo. For a woman as proud and vain as her, such relentless pleading could only mean that her patience had reached its limit.

“……Give it to me.”

Laila extended her hand.

She did not want to deliver the letter, but she could not bear the thought of leaving the man to face Roselina’s wrath.

Some might call her softhearted, but this was hardly a trivial matter. If Roselina was sufficiently enraged, the man could be beaten or dismissed—or his entire family might suffer because he had failed.

“Thank you! Thank you so much, Commander!” the man cried, bowing deeply.

“Tell the lady that you delivered her letter to the commander of the knights—not directly to Lord Carlo Siren.”

“Y-Yes, Commander.”

“And if she takes offense and dismisses you, come and find me.”

The messenger blinked in astonishment at her unexpected kindness, but Laila did not look back. She simply passed through the gates and disappeared into the estate.

She had no intention of giving the letter to Carlo, but neither could she stand aside and allow an innocent man to be punished unjustly.

Besides, the letter had technically been delivered.

That was enough.

“Where is the young master?”

“In the garden, my lady.”

Without hesitation, Laila headed directly toward him.

She wanted to see Carlo—the man who had kept his promise, the man who had finally chosen her.

“Carlo.”

“Oh—Laila. You are back.”

He was resting leisurely in the garden when she rushed toward him and suddenly threw her arms around him.

“Laila? What is wrong?”

Carlo froze, startled by her unexpected embrace.

“Did something happen?”

He asked gently, genuine concern filling his voice. His tenderness filled Laila’s chest with warmth. Her eyes began to sting as tears threatened to spill.

“Laila, look at me. What happened?”

Instead of releasing him, Laila tightened her embrace and buried her face against his chest.

“Nothing, I just… love you so much.”

“…….”

“I love you, Carlo.”

In truth, Laila wanted to thank him. She wanted to thank him for ensuring that she would no longer have to watch him smile at Roselina—and for finally allowing her to have his heart entirely. Although she had practically sold her soul to wring that promise from him, she was still grateful. As always, the one who loved more deeply was destined to lose.

“I love you too, Laila.”

When Carlo spoke those words, Laila nodded with confidence. The certainty that she could finally trust him caused her heart to swell.

“Laila, how did everything go at the palace? Your deployment is only a few days away, so the preparations must be hectic.”

Carlo said as he gently swept back her golden hair.

“Yes. Everyone is busy preparing.”

“And what about you?”

“Hmm?”

“How do you feel?”

He was not asking whether she feared the war. He wanted to know whether she was prepared to enter a battlefield and take human lives.

“Will you truly be all right?”

Laila was the sort of person who would undoubtedly suffer afterward.

Hurting another person—even in battle—would weigh upon her heart until she could scarcely breathe.

Only moments earlier, when the trembling messenger arrived with Roselina’s letter, she had told him to seek her out if the lady dismissed him.

She already knew how Roselina would react once she discovered that the letter had passed through Laila’s hands instead of reaching Carlo directly. Yet Laila had worried about the man’s safety before her own.

That was simply who Laila was—gentle, compassionate, and incapable of turning away from someone in distress.

If someone like her were forced to kill, it might destroy her completely.

And yet Carlo said nothing to stop her.

“I am fine, truly, I will be fine.”

‘Because you chose me. Because once the war is over, we can finally be happy.’

Holding him tightly, Laila closed her eyes—ignoring the fear, the guilt, and the faint ache in her heart that warned her otherwise.