TEWRIT 11

Episode 11

After time had turned back, Eliano kept her ears open to the voices of high society. Before long, she heard the harsh words the Crown Prince had once said about her. But she wasn’t hurt by it. Yes, it stung—but only because it was true. Even she agreed that she had been foolish at that time in her life. And more importantly, the Crown Prince meant nothing to her.

Crown Prince Heraith Bianteca was the emperor’s most beloved son—born very late in his life and the only remaining heir to the empire. Emperor Leopold, though old, had ruled for a very long time. But his children had all died early—on battlefields, from illness, or by various tragic fates.

So when Heraith was born, it was like a gift from the heavens. Emperor Leopold adored his one and only surviving heir.

Seven years ago, that precious prince went to Zacador as an envoy, only to be captured and held in Ringsgen. He was declared missing, then presumed dead. When news of his “death” reached Bianteca, the aging emperor fell into deep despair. He couldn’t eat or drink, overwhelmed by grief—especially since he never even saw his son’s body.

Having lost their only heir, Bianteca declared war on Zacador. A massive war broke out between the two great powers, and the continent was drenched in blood. It lasted three years, and people came to call it the Three-Year War.

While Leopold fought Zacador from outside, inside the palace he wept blood, desperate to name a new heir. The House of Rosana took the lead in that search. And eventually, the Duke of Rosana did it. He found an illegitimate son of the emperor.

Luckily, the Crown Prince returned just before the new heir could be crowned. And not only did he come back—he returned as a war hero, putting an end to the very war that began because of him. He won a great victory, and the angry, exhausted citizens of Bianteca quickly turned their frustration into praise.

Even better, he brought back with him a noble relative who had been held hostage in Zacador. It was a beautiful story.

“Hmph.”

Eliano scoffed, thinking of Heraith’s handsome, bright face. He had made her stand for far too long, even after she bowed respectfully.

“He must really hate me. So it wasn’t just that he thought I was foolish?”

She already knew he looked down on her. But she hadn’t expected such childish behavior—to outright ignore her greeting. If he could forget that she was a Rosana, then this wasn’t a small dislike. It was something deeper.

“Well, he has every reason to hate me. I’m the daughter of the man who tried to replace him.”

Heraith had even cast out his own half-brother from the palace. But that sibling was still a thorn in his side. And in the future, Eliano’s father would use that “thorn” to not just oppose the Crown Prince—but to threaten him. In her past life, Heraith was dragged into that trap and crushed. Knowing that, Eliano wasn’t surprised by how coldly he acted toward her.

“What is Father doing this time, that even sly old Heraith acts like this toward me?”

He didn’t dare go against her father—but took out his anger on her instead. And all he did was… ignore her greeting? That was petty. Way too petty for someone who called himself a gentleman.

Especially since that “gentleman” was the empire’s heir. It made Eliano worry for Bianteca’s future.

“No wonder he died before he could ever wear the emperor’s crown.”

As she was thinking this, a voice called out.

“Eliano of Rosana.”

The low, deep voice made her turn automatically. The first thing she noticed was his towering frame—so big and broad that it felt intimidating. His shoulders were wide, his build firm, and Eliano had to tilt her head up just to see his face.

Flint Howard…

He had sharp, handsome features like a man drawn with bold strokes. His jaw was strong and clean-cut, almost like it could slice something. His tightly closed lips looked firm and stubborn. The mix of black and grey in his appearance made him striking. He was, without a doubt, a very handsome man.

Seeing him again like this stirred old feelings.

“Please don’t be formal. Consider it an apology on the Crown Prince’s behalf.”

He was still so straightforward with his words. Eliano found herself smiling before she could help it.

“But I’m guessing that’s not the only reason you called me—oh.”

Flint held out his hand. In his large palm sat Eliano’s hairpin. His hand was so big that the small pin looked almost tiny.

It was a finely crafted butterfly-shaped pin, but one of its antennae had broken off. And now, the second one was gone too. It must’ve broken while Flint was holding it or chasing after her. If that butterfly were real, it would’ve screamed in pain.

It clearly looked like it had been broken in his hand. For the first time, Flint’s face showed a flicker of awkwardness. Catching that expression unexpectedly lifted Eliano’s mood. She even forgot the Crown Prince’s childish behaviour for a moment.

While Eliano’s posture remained perfect and elegant, Flint’s face hardly ever changed. That calm, cold expression made many women feel the urge to break through and see passion underneath. A man like that—falling deeply in love—seemed like a dream.

Unfortunately for them, now or in the future, no woman would ever capture Duke Howard’s heart. No matter the charm or the effort, he never wavered. The girls who had been rejected by him whispered behind his back, calling him a cold-blooded warmaniac.

Even Eliano, when she was Empress of Zacador, had heard of that reputation.

“I’m sorry. I offer my apology on behalf of the Prince.”

“It’s fine. Your gentlemanly kindness has made me forget what happened before.”

Flint tried to cover his friend’s mistake like a true gentleman. Eliano responded with the grace of a noble lady, choosing to forgive. If Heraith had overheard, he would’ve thrown a fit from how unfair it all sounded.

Eliano didn’t take the hairpin from his hand. Flint didn’t move either, his hand still out. 

Eliano spoke first.

“I thought you’d laugh at such an old-fashioned trick.”

“I know it wasn’t intentional.”

His honest answer made Eliano smile slightly.

It was an old trick: dropping something in front of a man you like. Many young ladies had done it to Flint Howard, tossing down everything from jewellery to scarves. At first, he’d politely picked them up one by one. But now, he just ignored them. He could tell the difference between an accident and a trick.

“But I doubt the gentleman carrying the ‘little sun’ would see it that way.”

Unlike you, the Crown Prince probably thinks I did it on purpose.

That implied Eliano knew Heraith disliked her. But Flint replied with his usual expressionless face.

“That doesn’t matter.”

Eliano was briefly overwhelmed with emotion. She remembered their encounter from her past life. Back then, he had spoken to her in the same way.

— “That doesn’t matter. Forget about Damian Rosana. Just think about your present and future.”

Back then, she had found it annoying and difficult. But now, she realized his face had been full of sincerity. Compared to his expression now, there had been much more emotion.

Now again, Duke Howard spoke with a steady, clear tone.

“Because I don’t think so.”

He gestured slightly, as if telling her to take the hairpin. But Eliano shook her head. She looked down, almost embarrassed.

“I don’t want to remember something shameful between us. Instead… please lend me your wisdom and strength, sir.”

Her voice was gentle, yet her words carried weight.

—

 To be continued.