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The people of the empire were unable to hide their fear and anger at the news of repeated prison breaks. Damon was on the verge of insanity, overwhelmed by the astronomical number of petitions and reports directed at him, along with the frenzied media debates.

‘Bang!’

His hand slammed onto the desk, no longer feeling any pain. Countless desks had been broken by his inhuman strength, and his hands were covered in small wounds from the repeated actions.

Beatrice always worried about his condition, but Damon found no comfort in her concern.

Reality was too harsh to allow for complacency.

“Fuxk it to the end!!”

The unspoken curse amplified his single outburst. As always, Kestiel stood obediently behind him, subtly furrowing his brows. Beatrice, too, held her mouth shut, her blue eyes brimming with tears. The atmosphere in the office was so tense that no one dared to enter besides them.

It had started well. He had loved, removed the hindering villainess, and wanted to give his beloved complete happiness. With favorable conditions, he even reached for the throne he had long dreamed of. But why?!

“Utterly useless to the end.”

The venomous sentence escaped, laden with pure hatred directed solely at Florencia .

He had anticipated difficulties with the leading noble family, but the Marquis family proved to be more troublesome than expected.

The business dealings of the Eilish sisters were particularly problematic. Damon had to worry about how much information the nobles aligned with the emperor’s faction would sell.

Not to mention the escaped prisoners.

Damon simmered in his rage for a long time, only noticing after some time had passed that his lover was trembling, her blue eyes filled with tears. Her expression was unmistakably one of fear.

“…I’m sorry. I apologize.”

Sigh. Even controlling his breath seemed difficult. Beatrice could not find relief.

Damon calmed down after a while. He returned to a more social expression, enough to hold a conversation, and gently held Beatrice’s hand, trying to reassure her.

Even in her terrified state, his one and only love looked so beautiful to him.

The images of his former fiancée and her sister flickered before his eyes. All of them appeared languid, indifferent, and mocking.

Damon didn’t care that he had forgotten Florencia ‘s bright smile directed at him. All he felt was anger.

It was supposed to be just a visit to see her sister. It was supposed to be.

The former grand duke had escaped. The assassin too.

Clark had been right. Damon had to admit it. He had been ridiculously complacent.

Should have killed her sooner? Yes. He should have. He should have done so for Beatrice’s sake, but he had temporarily forgotten his goal.

‘Yes, I must have been mad for a moment.’

Even with such thoughts, Damon didn’t erase the smile from his face. Despite not being completely satisfied, his love for Beatrice Rosen was sincere.

“Tris.”

Her nickname, as always when it passed his lips, sounded sweet. Beatrice glanced at him, still unable to hide her fear, then bit her lip and, mustering courage, stood beside him.

“Your Highness…”

The title that emerged from her lips sounded unfamiliar. Damon frowned.

“…Damon.”

She had the sense to catch on quickly.

Beatrice immediately corrected her address, and only then did Damon, with a languid look, bury his head in her neck.

“There’s so much to tire me out.”

As he spoke, his voice was muffled. Beatrice giggled softly as if tickled and gently stroked his head. It seemed like the least she could do to offer some comfort.

She knew well. The people of the empire openly criticized them both.

They should have killed her. They should have. Does he even have the qualities of an emperor? Isn’t it all that woman’s fault? What was the mercy for?

Balancing the power of the noble faction itself was already a huge stressor, and such rumors only exhausted them further.

Everyone continued a fight from which no one would benefit. Beatrice uttered a sentence, unsure if it was meant for herself or Damon.

“I understand.”

“You must be struggling too.”

“I’m… It’s all right. I was prepared for this.”

“I didn’t approach you to scare you. I wanted to make you happy…”

At his words, Beatrice fell silent. Her expression was complicated.

Damon, looking at her with a pleading gaze, kissed her cheek.

Now say it. Tell me it’s okay. Say you feel safe by my side.

His inner thoughts almost escaped his lips, forming a sigh. Beatrice, looking down at him, cautiously whispered.

“No. The truly scary person is gone now… and there are things I can do too.”

I promised to be a woman who could help you, Your Highness. Her eyes were filled with sorrow, almost like tears of resignation. Damon pulled her slender frame into his arms and growled fiercely.

“…I’m really sorry.”

I’ll handle it. Me. You just stay by my side.

The promise, forced through clenched teeth, was stronger than any knight’s oath.

Kestiel watched his master with a peculiar expression, not noticing the deeper despair spreading across Beatrice’s face.

“But Damon…”

“The grand duke doesn’t matter.”

He didn’t let her finish. The hand clutching the crumpled letter showed bulging veins.

The letter from the grand duke, demanding Margaret’s release from probation, made his feelings toward the recipient absurdly clear. An assassin too?

“The warden of Alcatraz committed suicide?”

“Apparently, he was too harsh on the prisoners. It seems the shock of an escaping assassin drove him to stab himself.”

“Anything found on him or traces of poison?”

“A sword was found. It’s under investigation.”

“See if it’s connected to Florencia . And it’s better to keep monitoring Margaret. The social circles are about to turn upside down, so take care of Tris.”

With that, he let go of Beatrice. As his arms fell away, she gazed out the window as if lost in thought. Kestiel followed her gaze to the detached palace where Margaret was imprisoned.

“…Yes.”

His delayed response fell from his lips. Beatrice looked at him before whispering softly.

You’re still watching me, aren’t you?

Her green eyes softened.

As if.

Beatrice, appearing to have made a decision, walked towards Damon. Her blue eyes shone with resolve.

“…Let me do it.”

“What?”

“Let me meet Lady Eilish, Damon.”

The crown prince’s expression hardened.

That wicked lady? With his beloved?

“…Tris.”

“I’m scared too. Damon, I know I can live here safely because of you. I know my place. I’m just a girl with deep faith; compared to the marquis, I’m nothing. Just a weak lady, as everyone says.”

“The marquis family…!”

“Shh.”

Beatrice smiled angelically, calming her lover. Damon couldn’t take his eyes off her, as if blinded by her beauty.

She was someone who couldn’t receive anything unless it passed through his hands. A fragile, delicate being. The only person who understood his past, someone who hated evil yet protected him. The woman who chose him despite countless threats…

“I don’t want you to meet her.”

“I know. She said you would say that. But Damon, now…”

Now, I want to do something on my own. I want to be someone who achieves something, not just a clever girl.

Her blue eyes fixed on the newspaper headlines. Incompetent prince, farcical articles involving his villainous fiancée, satirical noble newspapers criticizing her, and the grand duke’s threatening letters.

She clenched her fists. Margaret’s mocking words echoed in her ears.

“So the beloved lady should just watch the situation and pray fervently like a pretty doll next to her lover. Bad ties are bound to lose. Stories of good triumphing over evil are the most beautiful, after all.”

‘…No.’

Beatrice repeated it as if to deny it. No.

“I’ll do it myself.”

Damon grew uneasy. The blonde, blue-eyed woman who finally became his was slipping away before his eyes. His golden eyes darkened, and his lips formed frosty words.

Ah, this can’t be happening.

* * *

As Taylor had predicted, the debt collection proceeded swiftly. It seemed that as the family’s prestige dwindled, my sense of detachment from the Eilish family only grew stronger.

The Marquis failed to secure any significant influence in the noble council, a fact that left me quite satisfied. Initially, he seemed utterly humiliated, as if he wanted to die from the shame. However, his greed soon overtook him, and he began demanding more and more from me.

Satisfaction didn’t last long.

“You said you would pay me back for raising you as a father. Look at this situation now!”

I shook my head. The nobles had yet to inform the Marquis that I had a hand in Florencia’s business.

A wise choice.

Those with more to lose were always more strategic than desperate nobles. With this thought, I looked up at the sky. Another uneventful day was coming to an end.

Sir Hyzen visited me a day later.

“Sia told me to come to you personally.”

He looked determined, his face clearly showing the torment of knowing the woman he loved was about to be executed.

“Of course.”

I smiled and offered him the usual sandwich and some light snacks. Though I hadn’t made them myself, I considered it my treat since I hired the person who did. We sat in silence for a long time.

“…Did you meet with the assassin?”

Unable to endure the silence any longer, he asked first. I shook my head.

Taylor, ever the perfectionist, would likely ignore my instructions to keep it simple and would dig deeper for more information. It wasn’t irritating, but given my growing impatience, I smiled wistfully.

“I once sent a letter to the palace.”

He spoke calmly.

“Oh.”

“It was a simple message: ‘It will end soon.'”

“The Crown Prince acts as if he will end it himself.”

“He is waiting for the Marquis to harm you directly.”

I laughed. Of course.

That’s why I transferred all the assets assigned to me, excluding the amount accumulated for my sister.

Being under threat of assassination wasn’t something I wished to experience.

Furthermore, knowing that its effectiveness would soon wane, Sir Hyzen’s visit was more than welcome.

I widened my smile and continued questioning.

“So, my sister often accepts visitors? Doesn’t she mention me?”

For a moment, his lips tightened. His eyes clearly reflected jealousy.

“I realized she does it a lot. Tell her thank you.”

Feeling a sense of victory, my smile grew. Sir Hyzen clicked his tongue in annoyance before correcting his rudeness, and I easily forgave him.

He advised me to carefully monitor the Marquis’s movements and elaborated on his warning.

“You’re aware that His Highness executed many nobles after suppressing the rebel forces.”

“Of course.”

“Doesn’t it seem odd to you? Why is he only now moving up the date of her execution while maintaining his silence?”

“…I’m not sure.”

Wasn’t it because the Eilish family was a leading figure among the noble faction?

As I pondered, Sir Hyzen roughly ran his hand through his hair and declared with certainty.

“When he postponed the execution before, he already had a set order. Is there anything specific that comes to mind? Anything at all?”

“Well…”

Well… I started to reply but stopped. Goosebumps prickled the back of my neck, and I shivered.

“…Ah.”

My eyes widened as a hypothesis formed. I stood up immediately.

Why didn’t I think of this before?

‘You just realized now?’

I must have been insane. Looking down at my trembling hands, I recalled Kestiel’s words from a corner of my memory.

“He wasn’t as evil as people think.”

Ha. A hollow laugh escaped me. Nearly a hysterical laugh. This was madness.

In the Empire, most of those condemned are executed immediately upon capture.

Indeed, as the rebel forces quieted down, the Crown Prince’s first act was to delay the high-ranking nobles’ trials and purge the mid-to-low-ranking ones. Even those with justifiable reasons couldn’t avoid near-torturous interrogations. The timing of their executions varied, but there were no exceptions.

Nevertheless, there were instances where a condemned individual was kept alive if they were a high-ranking noble or had the potential to rally opposing forces. My sister’s case was one such instance.

In the original story, the reason they kept her, a founding member and leader of the noble faction, in prison for so long was to show the villainess’s emotional breakdown.

Here, however, the justification I observed was to strategically unite forces while dealing with the head of the rebellion, or to flaunt Beatrice’s so-called mercy, as she often claimed.

When her execution was postponed once, there had been a clear rationale.

I cursed myself for only realizing this now and thought of one man.

Carlix Fernand de Hamel. Leader of the rebels. A man with the potential for further rebellion, and…

The former first prince.

I glanced around, unable to regain my composure.

“Sir Hyzen.”

“Yes, My Lady.”

“…Can you kill someone?”

He remained silent for a long time, clearly expressing his reluctance. But that didn’t matter to me.

It was irrelevant. Ignoring his hesitation, I whispered,

“…The mansion is dangerous. My father always tries to monitor me. So, at the very least, make sure he doesn’t hear this conversation. If you see any eavesdroppers, kill them immediately. By any means.”

He nodded heavily, likely recalling how my father easily turned a blind eye to my sister while cursing his daughters.

I leaned on the desk.

The pieces were falling into place. The Crown Prince Damon knew about the usury with Glacies that my sister was involved in. Therefore, he must have known that defaulting on the loans would lead to revealing crucial information.

Damn it. I muttered a curse under my breath.

There was no guarantee that the information didn’t include something about the Grand Duke.

The Crown Prince acting like the de facto ruler, even sidelining the Emperor, could mean more than just the protagonist’s narrative buff.

Indeed, the story was about the female lead Beatrice and her entanglements with four male leads. A tale of a savior heroine and obsessive male leads was now becoming clearer.

One was a mistreated assassin, another a typical and devoted knight, a discarded Grand Duke who was a former prince, and finally… the third prince born of a concubine, who seized the throne, outstripping the Grand Duke.

Yes, the Crown Prince became the heir by ousting the legitimate first prince, Carlix Hamel.

Beatrice had saved the discarded Grand Duke from the third prince, so Carlix’s rebellion was, in a way, his own fight for succession.

“Incredible.”

I repeated words I had once said to the Crown Prince, covering my eyes.

The Empire did not recognize an emperor not born of the Empress. This had been an unbroken creed since its founding, unless one chose the path of a tyrant, eliminating all other siblings.

Both in the story and in reality, people viewed him as cruel but ‘good,’ ‘heroic’ (at least before the series of prison break incidents).

And this image allowed him to effectively rule, even over the weakened and aged Emperor.

Sir Hyzen’s argument was within this context.

An argument I couldn’t help but agree with, allowing me to piece together my hypothesis.

“He needed a reason to kill the Grand Duke.”

“Exactly. While he used Beatrice to provoke a rebellion, he must have known.”

“Rebellion was just an excuse. The close nobles must have known that much…”

“Right.”

“So, the information Florencia has, provided by the noble faction…”

Damn it. I recalled the Crown Prince referring to his second victory and felt anger rising.

“…You are correct.”

Sir Hyzen bowed his head.

Once again, I muttered. The struggle for imperial power and love. Damn it. My voice trembled, searching for any last hope.

“Then why hasn’t he killed my sister yet?”

“Sia would pass the information to the Grand Duke. It’s more effective to eliminate the Grand Duke after he presents the evidence himself, rather than Sia alone sharing what she knows. That’s Sia’s theory.”

“Damn it, seriously…”

“…I agree.”

Only hollow laughter escaped me. Sir Hyzen watched my pale face before suddenly standing and drawing his sword toward the opposite side.

A sound like a crushed snail echoed through the air. I stared blankly at the black-masked figure collapsing behind me.

“And now, the Crown Prince.”

Sir Hyzen whispered.

“He will target you. You’re easier to deal with than the Grand Duke.”