Previously
Irenia examines the lavish imperial gifts, realizing they represent a dangerous trap set by Empress Cornelia. Meanwhile, at the Flores estate, Giovinetta fumes over the news that Irenia survived, having already planned her mourning outfit to gain social sympathy.
Countess Elvira’s intervention had not been entirely unwelcome; in truth, it brought a needed change. From that moment on, life within the palace grew noticeably easier.
At my request, many of the old servants were replaced. Whether their successors were truly trustworthy remained to be seen, but they performed their duties with sharp efficiency.
The palace was thoroughly cleaned from corner to corner, and the raucous atmosphere that had weighed upon me for so long finally settled.
Yet far more servants had been assigned than I had asked for. The palace, once quiet to the point of utter loneliness, was suddenly filled with bustling movement.
Even so, it felt entirely devoid of warmth. If anything, it had grown colder, more somber.
They worked in absolute silence—no raised voices, no quiet chatter. Nothing but soundless movements and lingering eyes following my every step. The weight of their gazes felt suffocating.
For all their insolence, the previous maids had at least felt human. There had been some warmth of life about them.
Even the guards who had persistently harassed Caesar had been replaced.
The new detail belonged to the Second Division of the
White Rose Cross, an elite unit under the Empress’s direct command, staffed entirely by sons of high nobility.
They bore no resemblance to the men who came before them. Even to someone like me, with little knowledge of martial matters, their exceptional skill was unmistakable.
Their movements were deliberate, their composure icy, and their restraint absolute. Like polished steel, they acted only when strictly necessary.
“…Everything is fine.”
Despite telling myself so, an inescapable unease took root in my chest.
Though clad in armor, they made no sound, watching our every move from all sides.
It was framed as protection, but it was impossible to mistake it for anything other than tight surveillance.
At times, a cruel thought crept into my mind: at the first misstep, the servants’ watchful eyes would betray me, and those cold swords would be drawn against my throat.
Perhaps the Empress already knew everything. Perhaps she had stationed them here to uncover the truth—that I was subduing Caesar with my own blood.
Perhaps they were sent to spy, not to protect…
“Your Highness, you look quite pale.”
“I’m… fine.”
Delfina placed a cool cloth over my eyes. The chill was soothing,
yet the persistent dizziness from restless nights refused to fade.
“Truly, I am….”
I murmured under my breath, trying to steady myself.
We began my morning preparations. Delfina lightly applied powder to my pale skin.
“Your Highness…”
She hesitated for a brief moment before mentioning that the Empress had sent new garments, and that measurements needed to be taken for tailoring.
Such lavish court attire was always crafted to exacting proportions.
Delfina had begun altering my dress yesterday, but the problem lay with Caesar; he would not permit anyone near him to take his measurements.
“What about Caesar?”
Delfina gave a slight shake of her head.
“Lady Aronso attempted to enter his quarters a short while ago, but she had no success.”
“As I thought…”
The sounds of cleaning echoed throughout the palace, whether due to the sheer number of servants or the sudden, icy atmosphere that had settled over the halls.
In truth, I could not pinpoint the cause.
Caesar had not left his room in days. He had ceased eating, and no longer slipped into my bedchamber under the cover of night as he once had.
“I’ll go to him myself.”
Delfina slowly braided my hair, weaving a ribbon through the strands, but I could not bring myself to put on the dresses sent by the Empress.
Dressed in a simple gown with subtle embroidery, I made my way toward his chambers.
For the first time, I stood directly before his door.
Mercedes stood guard outside, flanked by knights of the White Rose Cross.
As I drew near, the Knight Commander offered a silent, respectful nod.
“How is he?”
Mercedes’s expression immediately hardened. Caesar was not the only one shaken by the recent changes; she, too, appeared deeply troubled, and…
“His Highness will not leave the room at all.”
She had rejoiced more than anyone at the glimpse of Caesar’s humanity, yet she seemed to tremble whenever he retreated into the beast.
“All of this came from your meddling, Your Highness…”
She had spoken those words to me more than once, her resentment mounting with every passing day.
“Did you not foresee that His Highness would end up like this?”
Her sharp glare stung like a lash.
“Still… Caesar needs this.”
I wet my dry lips. The words caught in my throat, refusing to emerge.
Perhaps none of this had been for his sake at all, but merely for mine.
“Let me go inside.”
The knights immediately stepped forward, blocking my path.
The commander advanced, his tone heavy and warning:
“It is dangerous.”
Hearing him speak came as a surprise; I had almost believed them incapable of speech.
I gave a firm nod. “I will be fine.”
Yet he held his ground, unyielding.
It was then that I noticed the bandage wrapped tightly around his arm, seeped through with dark crimson, hinting at a deep wound underneath.
I had heard whispers of a skirmish between him and Caesar, and now the truth stood plainly before me.
“More than one of us has already been injured. It is not safe to enter.”
I looked into their eyes in silence.
They knew as well as I did that they could not truly bar my way.
“I am going in.”
As my hand settled onto the latch, a quiet sigh escaped behind me.
“If anything happens, we will breach the door immediately.”
They instructed me to cry out at the first sign of danger.
I nodded once, then pressed the door open.
Though bright daylight lingered outside, the chamber within was draped in heavy darkness.
Torn drapes blocked the sun, though faint slivers of light filtered through the shredded fabric with the passing draft.
Once my eyes adjusted to the dimness, a small gasp escaped my lips.
The room was in complete ruin. Furniture and walls had been smashed to splinters; not a single piece remained whole.
Gouges from claws, deep scratches, and ragged furrows scarred every surface.
I began to scan the gloom, searching for him. Where had he gone?
Suddenly, a faint brush touched my forehead, and I turned around.
There he was, wedged between the dressing table and the bed frame, curled tight like a hardened mass of dried clay.
I called out to him softly:
“Caesar?”
He raised his head slightly, saying nothing.
His crimson eyes burned with the same deadly chill as they had on the day we first met.
“Are you all right?”
“Grr…”
A low, gravelly growl rose from deep in his throat.
When I took a single step closer, he shrank back until his spine pressed hard against the wall.
I turned my open palms upward, showing I meant no harm.
“I won’t come any closer.”
He stared at me with wide, trembling eyes, his entire frame shaking violently.
I slowly lowered myself to the floor, sweeping aside fragments of broken wood and smoothing down my skirts.
He watched without blinking, coiled as if ready to strike at the slightest provocation.
“Grrr…”
In the end, we had slipped straight back to where we started. He wore the exact same expression as that day—gazing out at the world with bared fangs and fierce, hunted eyes.
A creature terrified by nature itself, howling at thunder and shivering at the flash of lightning, more beast than man.
I had believed he was making progress… but perhaps I had only been fooling myself.
If the mere presence of more servants and an altered surroundings were enough to push him this far, how could he possibly endure a grand ball? Even I no longer believed it possible.
The ballroom would blaze with countless chandeliers. The brilliant lights, burning through day and night, would dazzle and overwhelm the senses.
Lately, it had become customary in the capital to burn heavy incense at such gatherings, filling the hall with dense fragrance alongside the smoke of gentlemen’s cigars and ladies’ perfumes.
And the noise of the crowd? It would be deafening. Plates would clatter and shatter across the floor, wine would spill, glasses would roll, and laughter would boom from every corner… How could Caesar ever bear such madness?
A tangle of conflicting emotions swept through me, and Mercedes’s cutting look flashed across my memory.
What if she had been right all along, and all of this was nothing more than my own selfish vanity?
What if everything I had done had only brought Caesar more pain?
FADE OUT