Previously
Cecilia falls ill with a fever following her baptism, prompting intense worry and overprotective care from her siblings and the Empress. During her recovery, she experiences a vivid dream or vision of a knight named Irina tending to a black-haired, red-eyed infant in a military tent.
Thanks to an adult’s intellect, I quickly mastered speech and daily habits, but I still had a long way to go.
My pronunciation was hopeless, and trapped in the fragile body of an infant, holding my bladder or enduring hunger for any length of time was practically impossible.
The biggest problem, however, was prejudice.
No matter how precociously I behaved, no one took the words or actions of a child under two seriously.
‘Just you wait until I’m grown up, all of you.’
I would out-argue every single person who looked down on me for being small! And in an imposing voice, just like Sister Grace!
‘Speaking of which, it’s already been two months since Grace left.’
My eldest sister, Grace, who had been invested as Crown Princess the year I was born, helped Father shoulder state affairs. Naturally, she spent far less time with me than my other siblings did.
To make matters worse, she had been forced to embark on an extended campaign this time.
“They say the battlefield was a bloodbath, wasn’t it?”
“It is quite rare in history for additional reinforcements to be deployed from the capital like that.”
“Still, the moment Her Imperial Highness the Crown Princess arrived, the front was brought under control immediately, was it not?”
No one offered me a formal explanation, but by piecing together the chatter between my nanny and the maids right in front of me, I could easily deduce the situation.
“A massive war broke out recently, and because it grew fiercer than anticipated, reinforcements had to be dispatched.”
It was said that Grace possessed holy power rivaling that of any emperor in history.
‘Come to think of it… is that baby doing all right?’
While Batisha brushed my hair, my thoughts drifted back to the child I had seen in my dreams.
That starkly striking baby—black hair, pale skin, red eyes—nestled in the embrace of his knight mother.
Ever since, he had appeared in my dreams time and again.
“Half a year has slipped by already.”
Every time, that child was either in the tent with his mother or completely alone, lying on his back and slowly rolling his crimson eyes.
‘Strangely enough, he hardly ever cried.’
Whether swaddled tightly or left sprawling, even when restrained from crawling away from his mother, the infant simply stayed put, moving nothing but his eyes.
And then, the last time….
‘That was the day before Grace marched out of the capital.’
The scene in my dream had shifted entirely.
Soldiers bustled in and out of the tent, while the female knight lay alone upon a cot.
She was bleeding profusely from multiple stab wounds across her chest, abdomen, and thigh. Yes… she was on the verge of death.
The wound across her belly was particularly….
‘Oh….’
Even though it was only a dream, a wave of nausea washed over me, and I frantically searched my surroundings.
‘Where is the baby? He shouldn’t be seeing this….’
The child was lying atop a small table that doubled as a desk.
‘So everyone knows about the baby now.’
A soldier stood by as if guarding the child, yet no one inside the tent paid him the slightest mind.
“Commander, please hold on just a little longer.”
“We heard the rest of the Imperial Knights have completely mobilized from the capital.”
“Even the priests are on their way.”
Several soldiers, seemingly her subordinates, crowded around her with faces etched in distress.
Every single one of them was wounded; not a man was whole.
A few knights in slightly better shape tried channeling their holy power into her, but the hemorrhage showed no sign of stopping.
From the hollow dryness in their voices… I knew no one truly expected her to survive.
“Aah….”
Beneath that suffocating shroud of despair, the baby let out a pitiful wail, his red eyes brimming with tears.
Yet not a single soul in the tent turned to look at him.
Even the soldier standing guard didn’t spare him a glance, merely patting him absentmindedly.
I stretched out my tiny hand—Cecil’s tiny hand—attempting to stroke the child’s head.
I couldn’t actually touch him, nor could I run my fingers through his hair, but I desperately wanted to offer him some comfort, even like this.
And I was certain that vision was tied to the very battlefield Grace had marched toward.
‘I don’t understand why I keep dreaming about that child….’
Yet on the very morning after that dream, Grace had set out for the war alongside priests from the Great Temple.
“Once Her Imperial Highness the Crown Princess arrives, order will be restored in no time, won’t it?”
“High priests are accompanying her, so if we can only hold out just a bit longer….”
On top of that, the words the soldiers exchanged in the dream bore an uncanny resemblance to reality.
‘If that knight died in the end… what became of the baby?’
The memory of the child’s tear-filled red eyes lingered persistently in my mind.
I finally reunited with Grace that night in Mother’s drawing room.
Though severe casualties had been sustained before her arrival, victory was still victory, warranting a small celebration banquet. It was late into the night, after the festivities had wound down.
“Those who remain must carry on living, lifting each other’s spirits… It was likely a banquet to bolster morale.”
Imperial protection laws barred members of the royal family from attending official functions before the age of ten, so I couldn’t attend the banquet. Thus, I only got to see Grace after it concluded.
“Cecil, do you remember your sister?”
“Sis-ter! Missed you!”
“Oh my goodness, your speech has improved so much. Just as expected, our Cecil is brilliant.”
When I reached toward her with outstretched arms, Grace scooped me up effortlessly with a bright smile.
Perhaps because I saw her far less frequently than my other siblings, I was perpetually awestruck whenever I laid eyes on Grace, the twenty-year-old Crown Princess.
Beneath sleek hair parted neatly to one side, a straight nose and thick brows inherited from Father lent her features an undeniable dignity.
Furthermore, likely due to what she had recently endured, the depth in her eyes seemed far beyond her years.
Her commanding presence, which had captivated readers with every appearance in the original novel, made seeing her in her youth a true privilege.
‘It feels like watching a fledgling sovereign, hehe.’
Grace planted a firm kiss on my cheek before taking a seat across from Mother.
As drink trays were set before Grace and Mother, and a plate of assorted fruits was placed upon my small table… Mother spoke.
“Something weighs heavily upon your mind.”
Though Grace had come to visit me, her youngest sibling, the sight of her twirling her wineglass with a deeply sorrowful expression prompted Mother to speak in a meaningful tone.
“In any event, you quelled the storm and secured victory. What troubles you to such an extent?”
“Too much innocent blood was spilled.”
Grace made no attempt to conceal the somber look she had been forced to hide during the victory banquet.
Perhaps she could let it show only because she was before Mother.
‘Even if she was groomed as an heir to the throne, taking to the battlefield firsthand must have been a tremendous shock.’
She wasn’t even twenty-one yet, and factoring in my previous life’s age, she was only around twenty-three….
I speared small bites of melon with my fork, carefully observing Grace’s face.
“If only I had made the call a little sooner….”
“Grace.”
Mother made a quiet sound laden with sorrow.
“That was not a decision you could have made alone. Above all else, have you forgotten that the supreme commander of the army is your father?”
“Even so, His Majesty granted me discretion.”
“And thanks to your swift advance with the priests, you suppressed the storm before further losses could occur. What happened was simply unforeseen. If we record it in the history books so those who follow can prepare, it will not have been a mere tragedy.”
“…”
Despite Mother’s reassurance, Grace could not shake off her gloom.
‘My sister really carries a heavy sense of responsibility.’
I didn’t know the exact details of what had unfolded on the battlefield Grace went to.
Yet bits of conversation had reached me, confirming that her intervention was the turning point that tipped the scales of victory.
“Regardless, you will become the next Empress, and each of your siblings is walking a path carved out to support your reign.”
At Mother’s words, I was reminded of Roselia, destined to lead the Holy Knights, and Rebecca, who would become a high priestess and eventually the Pope.
There was also Theodore, who had spearheaded relief efforts for the impoverished from a young age as a beacon of the Imperial Family.
‘Come to think of it, I need to carve out my own place as well.’
If I possessed no holy power, I had to formulate some plan to secure the love and favor of the Imperial Family.
Listening to them speak, I quietly hardened my resolve.
“It is enough that you do your best. While the position of Emperor is spoken of as infallible, no human being is devoid of flaw or error. Even if the Imperial Family is deemed chosen, that does not make us mythical deities, does it? After all, mortal blood courses through their veins, just as it does through mine.”
In the confident cadence of Mother’s voice as she counseled Grace, she sounded less like the Empress and more like the woman Theresia.
I looked on between the two of them, feeling as though I were watching an exclusive off-the-record interview with a famous actress.
“I know you can speak like this only because you are before me. You cannot show weakness before His Majesty.”
“…”
Mother’s words were no mere guess; they hit upon the plain truth.
I stole a sideways glance at Grace’s face, which still seemed consumed by thoughts of what had transpired on the battlefield.
Her expression remained shaded, but she looked a fraction more at ease.
‘I wonder what truly happened out there… Was that child really there?’
Grace failed to catch my gaze, however. After lightly touching her lips to her wineglass, she broached another topic.
“Another matter weighing upon me… is honoring the fallen.”
Hmm, this sounded like sensitive business as well.
It seemed Mother and my siblings all assumed I couldn’t understand much, which was why they frequently discussed matters in front of me that ought never to leave this room.
“Why? Do you fear the Hall of Glory will lack the capacity?”
“Because the Sea of No Return remained open for so long, the remains of the fallen….”
Grace’s gaze drifted toward me for a second.
I had been listening intently, but that sudden glance put me in a bit of a quandary.
Should I pretend to understand? And if I did, was I supposed to burst into tears at the mention of corpses…?
‘Even though I saw that female knight in my dream, it didn’t feel repulsive so much as a noble sacrifice….’
Because my expression gave nothing away, Grace evidently concluded I hadn’t grasped anything, offering a soft smile and shaking her head.
‘I really do understand and I’m paying close attention… but I suppose that’s hard to believe.’
They were always astonished by my ability to focus despite my tender age.
Grace resumed speaking.
“The number of dead far exceeded the capacity of the Hall of Glory, which is a dilemma in itself… but the truth is, we couldn’t even retrieve all the remains.”
“I see.”
“The casualties vastly outnumbered the survivors, leaving us no choice. At first, only the bodies of noble-born knights were recovered and transported to the Great Temple.”
“I understand… particularly since they fell within the Sea of No Return….”
“Yes, so they must be purified. But those who fell early were already tainted with demonic energy and could not be consecrated, so they were buried on site.”
The ‘Sea of No Return’ was a place featured in the original novel as the setting for the climax.
“It was described merely as a chaotic battleground crawling with monsters, but apparently it’s a recurring nightmare in this world.”
From what Mother and Grace said, the highest honor accorded to the dead was having their remains brought to the Great Temple, consecrated, cremated, and finally interred within the Hall of Glory, a collective mausoleum.
“Therefore, this time, we had no choice but to leave behind the remains of commoners and lower ranks….”
“Nooo!”
Listening to her words, the cry burst from my lips before I could stop myself.