130. Epilogue (1)

I pushed past the knights lingering at the door. Isella was lying on the sofa in the banquet hall’s waiting room, surrounded by physicians.

When she saw me, she slowly sat up.

She was pressing a handkerchief against her eye, trying to stop the bleeding. Around the sofa, physicians from the Snowa family were busily attending to her.

“What should we do, Miss… a scar on your beautiful face…”

Her ever-present nursemaid was tearfully lamenting, scolding the situation for ruining her fate through political strife. Isella smiled and gently pushed her away.

“What happened?”

I asked the elite knight from the Snowa family standing nearby.

“We lost her. And…”

One of the knights handed me a disheveled lock of red hair and a broken necklace. I snatched them from his hand.

It was Leonie’s hair.

There was no mistaking it. I had checked on her several times a day, caressing that very hair.

I clenched the lock of hair tightly.

We had lost her. In the end, we had failed.

“I am sorry, Your Highness. Things have gone awry.”

I couldn’t blame Isella. She was a loyal vassal and had rushed here despite Lady Arinne’s childbirth. She was a dedicated talent.

Isella had her face wrapped in cloth.

Blood she hadn’t managed to wipe off was trickling down her chin. Her dress and hands were a mess, soaked with blood.

“I have captured those who drew their swords at me. Interrogate them. They will know Lady Leonie’s whereabouts.”

Despite the blood pouring from her, she stood firm, unbecoming of a noblewoman. Her small face was full of arrogance.

Her posture showed no fear, no hint of reproach. Just like the day she had sent me that letter.

[We need a strong shield.]

Isella had cleverly exploited my weaknesses. I had requested aid from the Snowa family due to the ongoing threats, but standing before me was not the head of the Snowa family but his second daughter, Isella Snowa.

“I didn’t summon you.”

“You didn’t summon my father either. You asked for help from my family. I am also a member of this family.”

She responded calmly, unfazed by my cold tone.

The soldier sent with the response had not yet arrived. It was clear she had intercepted the letter and rushed here.

“I did not receive a reply to my previous letter, so I came in person.”

[If you wish to protect something, it’s not a bad idea to act as if it’s unnecessary.]

Her proposal to me was intriguing. While I hesitated to accept, Isella had donned a pink dress and rushed to my quarters in the prince’s domain.

The family crest, a deer, was embroidered on her chest.

She was undeniably beautiful. If I followed her proposed scenario, she could easily captivate everyone.

You came firmly without hesitation.

I glanced out the window. As expected, she had crossed the threshold confidently in a carriage bearing her family’s emblem. Her fearlessness reminded me of someone.

“I don’t understand why you’re making this proposal to me. If you want a title, you could become the head of the count’s family. A woman can inherit the position.”

“Unfortunately, my family elders are quite conservative… They prefer that I be absorbed into another family rather than become the head. When I expressed my desire to lead the family, they revealed plans to adopt my cousin as the heir.”

She was an uninvited guest. Nevertheless, she stood her ground and stated her intentions.

“So I intend to establish an independent family. If my achievements are recognized, it shouldn’t be difficult to create a new family by imperial decree.”

To become the first head of a new family. She was ambitious.

“Lady Isella, this is not a deal for you. It could be dangerous. If you leave now, we can pretend this never happened.”

“I am prepared.”

“You could die.”

“At least I would leave behind a family name on my tombstone.”

She had no intention of backing down. I had to admire her boldness.

“Just keep your promise. If I succeed, you must ensure I rise to that position.”

It was a proposal hard to refuse. And I needed something to hold onto as well.

Azanti kept missing the mark, but the noose was tightening. At this rate, Leonie’s true identity would be exposed soon.

Even with Edan as her guard, I couldn’t be at ease.

Setting up a distraction, something to divert attention from her, was the only solution.

“I hope you make an excellent shield.”

In the end, I took her hand.

“I will be your sword as well. Wield me as you wish. I offer myself to you.”

The contract proceeded quickly. It was an engagement devoid of emotion, so there was no reason to delay.

“Shouldn’t you inform Lady Leonie?”

She mentioned Leonie as she signed the engagement contract.

Her signature was crooked. It was a document that would be burned once this was all over anyway. I handed it to the priest without much thought.

“There’s no need to worry her. Once I secure the throne, everything will be resolved.”

If I failed to seize the throne, Leonie would need to be evacuated. She had to remain completely uninvolved in this plan.

“Do you think she’s noticed?”

“Do you think she’s like you?”

“You mean she’s quick-witted and aware of her surroundings? I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Isella bowed neatly.

After ensuring the engagement document was safely in the priest’s hands, she turned to leave but then spun back around at the door. She lifted her chin and met my gaze again.

“But is finding a shield to protect her really the only reason, Your Highness? Is it just because she’s a blood bag?”

Isella suddenly asked.

“Is there another reason that should matter?”

Isella’s eyes sparkled with curiosity and something else—maybe insight.

“Perhaps there’s more to it. Maybe you care for her beyond her role as a blood bag.”

The question hung in the air between us, heavy with implications I wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

“Enough. This conversation ends here. You have your role to play, and I have mine.”

She smiled, a knowing, almost triumphant smile.

“Yes, Your Highness. I understand.”

She turned and finally left, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Her words lingered, unsettling but impossible to dismiss.

“Hmm.”

She wore a mysterious, languid smile on her lips.

“No, unnecessary emotions are a luxury we cannot afford for the greater cause.”

She was clever and cunning. She had perceived my feelings even before I did.

—

The blood of demons was a symbol of strength.

Rulers of the continent, usurpers. The power to overwhelm everyone easily led us to authority.

But as time passed and the empire was established, as we rose to nobility and my mother was chosen as empress, it became nothing but a curse.

A hybrid lineage was bound to be rejected in a civilized society. However, the bloodline that descended through generations could not be hidden.

When it became known that I had manifested as a monster, my mother frantically searched through ancestral records. As she gradually lost favor, she thought the only way to protect her young son was to find a blood bag and gain power to protect herself.

She scoured the old ancestral homes, clinging to the blood bag’s whereabouts as her last hope.

Unaware that this act was gradually dragging her into ruin.

As the bloodline passed through generations, it became diluted, causing significant problems. The red hair that still remained in the lineage was the only trace of the blood bags.

Some called it a destiny linked by blood. To justify their blood-sucking nature, our ancestors wrapped us in a plausible narrative.

The old books of our ancestors detailed how to manage blood.

They described how to seduce them and how to prevent them from escaping, in meticulous detail.

In those records, prisoners were never treated well, and the structure was clear-cut between rulers and the ruled. There were no instances of them retaliating against their captors.

The records were hazy, but my capable subordinates found the blood bags hidden throughout the nation. Just as I couldn’t erase my lineage, they couldn’t hide their red hair.

And most unfortunately, after the fourth blood bag died on the battlefield, the soldiers dispatched to the south finally knocked on the door of the Sien family.

That was the beginning of the tragedy.

Capable knights, excellent secretaries, outstanding maids responsible for prisoners.

The duchy was filled with elite people I had gathered. Every action was for my safety and the stability of the duchy.

The war was brutal, and a world without blood bags was even darker. The more pressure Azanti exerted, the more desperate the need for a blood bag became.

On the day they brought in what must have been the nth blood bag, they, as always, kept her out of my sight.

It was only natural. Their master was me, and trash and impurities were to be kept out of the master’s sight.

To them and to me, the existence of blood was nothing more than that. Something to be hidden and covered.

And the blood bags were no different. They came, having received money, sacrificing themselves for their families. It was their fate to offer their bodies in exchange for the financial security of their loved ones.

The high price they fetched was a hefty sum exchanged for their family’s lifelong security. The inconvenience of maintaining their bodies was a burden they deemed reasonable to bear.

But then…

“Return the money sent to the baron’s family. Make a deal with me.”

She refused her fate. This was the North, and it was just another workplace for them. No one in the duchy had ever refused the role assigned to them.

“You act as if you were dragged here forcibly. Quite a bit of money was given to your territory.”

“That wasn’t given to me.”

She looked me straight in the eye and made her demand boldly. Her deep brown eyes were clear and bright.

To survive as a deposed prince, there were many emotions I had to discard.

Compassion, pity, sympathy.

To someone like me, she was demanding the luxury of emotion.

I had to turn away.

Yet, my eyes kept drifting toward her. Before I knew it, I was watching her.

Over the hills, I saw her struggling to carry a scarecrow. The sight was so endearing that a small smile escaped my lips.

Her hair shone like the setting sun, framing a delicate jawline and slender wrists, her skin pale and fragile.

She seemed so frail that she might collapse if touched, yet she boldly made demands of me without any fear.

Didn’t she value her life?

Perhaps because I had been surrounded by those desperate to live on the battlefield, I found myself wanting to understand her purpose.

Just a few weeks ago, she had turned the estate upside down, claiming to have hidden an antidote as leverage for her life.

She discarded a sword she had picked up, opting instead to grab a scarecrow. She had an uncanny knack for choosing the most unlikely weapons to protect herself.

“Your Highness?”

I heard Viter’s voice calling me. The smile I had been wearing vanished as I turned to face him.

Viter handed me the list of attendees for the banquet. As he flipped to the last page, he murmured softly.

“You don’t need to indulge the whims of the blood bag. She was offered as a sacrifice in exchange for a fair price. She’s no different from the others.”

His words, spoken as casually as the harsh northern winds, pierced my ears sharply.

Viter was an excellent secretary and a loyal subject. Normally, I would have agreed with him, but this time, I found it hard to respond.

As I hesitated to answer, I realized something was wrong.

I felt a twisted fracture.

I shouldn’t have accepted your proposal in the prison.

I shouldn’t have let curiosity about the defiant prisoner lead me down the stairs to the underground.

No, from the very beginning, I shouldn’t have sent soldiers to the baron’s household, exploiting their dire finances to offer a deal of becoming a prisoner.

A blood bag is a weakness, and the monstrous blood flowing within me is also my weakness.

I thought my desire to hide her away was solely because of that.

But then, I realized.

Leonie. She herself had become my weakness.

Once I started to understand this, there was no stopping it.