Chapter 3
Hyperion Sabrand Ferraro was what they called the Empress’s “child born out of wedlock.” He was proof of the Empress’s infidelity, without a drop of imperial blood in his veins.
And after Pheon, the Empress had no more children. There had been a time when the only children in the imperial family were Pheon, whom they kept hidden away, and Kaella, born much later.
That was when the two of them first met—as Pheon’s “little sister” Kaella and her “big brother” Pheon. Even if they only saw each other two or three times a year from then on, they were still brother and sister. At least until they married.
Kaella couldn’t catch her breath. Her heart was pounding wildly, and she was so short of breath that her throat felt not just parched but torn apart. Could a dream feel this vivid?
Left behind in the spot where the Emperor had abruptly departed, she finally came back to her senses too late. Her legs had given out, and she collapsed to the floor. She needed to get up quickly, but even that was an ordeal.
“Pardon the intrusion.”
A strong hand in a black glove grasped her arm and pulled her to her feet, accompanied by a voice all too familiar. It was a hand and strength she knew well.
Had this man ever been so kind to her? No, none of it mattered. In this dream or whatever hallucination it was, she just wanted to do as she pleased.
“Daddy, Daddy!”
The voice she squeezed out from her cracked throat was half gasp. Without so much as a thank you to the Duke, Kaella staggered toward her father like she was crawling.
“Kaella, why are you here…? It was so dangerous….”
The Ostein Duke reached out hastily to embrace his daughter, his hands trembling too. His face was pale as if he’d seen a ghost. It had already happened, Kaella realized instinctively. The Emperor must have pointed a pistol at her father and pulled the trigger.
Kaella clung to her father, checking him over and over, but there wasn’t a scratch on him. It was thanks to the protective magic artifact she’d made sure he took. Thank goodness. Truly thank goodness.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, of course. What about you? Don’t you know you’re not supposed to come here without His Majesty’s permission?”
And why had the Empress’s bastard son come here, and what was this about the Empress collapsing? Father and daughter, both ashen as blank sheets of paper, clutched each other, repeatedly asking if the other was okay.
“For now, both of you need to leave this place.”
A calm yet authoritative voice cut between them. The Lüsenford Duke, his massive frame wrapped in a long cloak, turned slightly toward the entrance they had come through.
“Please, this way.”
He was famous for his filial piety, yet he seemed remarkably composed even after hearing that his mother had lost consciousness.
’No, he’s probably just enduring it quietly, as always.’
Kaella guessed immediately. They’d never shared a bedroom, but he was still her husband. He rarely showed his emotions.
That exquisitely handsome yet coldly veiled face harbored a gaze sharp as icicles, dismissing any approaching attack with mere contempt. And amusingly, she was the one who had received the most of that contempt.
“Let’s go, Daddy. Can you stand?”
“I’m fine. You?”
“I’m okay too.”
She forced strength into her legs, which felt so realistically weak. She had to escape this cursed imperial palace. And when she woke from the dream, death would come.
But if the Empress had lost consciousness, wouldn’t it be rude to just rush home? After all, the Ostein Duke was a son acknowledged by the late Emperor, so when something happened in the imperial family, he had to stand with them as “family” regardless.
“Please wait in Altein Palace. I’ll join you.”
The Lüsenford Duke—Pheon—knew this well and made the suggestion first. Etiquette demanded it anyway.
‘Especially since the Emperor goes mad over anything involving the Empress, logic be damned. If they didn’t follow protocol, there’d be another uproar.’
She found it laughable. The Emperor criticized the Empress for her infidelity—betraying him with another man to bear Pheon—yet he was obsessively attached to his unfaithful wife.
He even continuously abused the illegitimate child Pheon, eventually banishing him to the north to fight the Evil Dragon Overlante, while clinging only to the Empress.
With such an Empress now unconscious, he was surely out of his mind. A madman not in his right mind—what a horror.
‘I’m jealous. How free the Empress must feel right now.’
But above all, Kaella envied the Empress who had lost consciousness. Her mind, sunk into pitch-black darkness, would be forever severed from the world, spared any pain.
She wished she could stop dreaming this unpleasant reality-like dream and just die. Was there something wrong with the poison Beatrice Lavalle had given her? She couldn’t understand why she hadn’t died but was instead here, leaning on her father and following her husband.
“You should sit and rest for a bit.”
Seated in the warm Altein Palace at last, she finally felt the chill seeping into her body, which she’d run here with only a thin shawl draped over it. Kaella pulled the shawl tighter.
“I’ll stay here, so why don’t you go home alone?”
Ostein Duke Adeo de Shaser gently suggested to his daughter, but she shook her head.
“No, no, Daddy. I want to stay here too. With you.”
His daughter, who had rushed in pale-faced, might have sensed something from the moment he’d insisted she take the protective magic artifact.
Adeo didn’t press further. It was a relief that the pistol the Lüsenford Duke had brought had no live rounds.
“Aren’t you cold, Kaella?”
The Lüsenford Duke, who had been standing silently, spoke to her. What an affectionate tone.
“No, I’m fine.”
But Kaella answered so quickly it might embarrass him, then promptly averted her gaze.
Right now, Pheon wasn’t important—her father being alive was. Her body trembled like an aspen leaf from the thrill that her horrific past of cold, hunger, and humiliation had partly changed, though she didn’t notice it herself.
And she had no idea that Pheon was watching her intently. Nor that his eyes, which had gleamed with a dark purple instead of their clear violet, had shifted back to that clear violet.
“Kaella, you’re shaking.”
Her reaction was slow. Or rather, she had no attention for him at all. The girl who had always chased after Pheon calling “big brother, big brother” now just clutched Adeo’s collar, trembling.
“Oh dear. Kaella. It’s okay, it’s okay.”
Adeo patted his daughter’s back repeatedly. In his arms, Kaella looked especially small to Pheon. So small, so young. Twenty-one, with baby fat still clinging to her cheeks. She looked so fair and lovely, it was hard to believe she’d starved to death so miserably.
‘She’ll catch a serious illness like that.’
In Pheon’s memory, Kaella had a frail body that caught cold easily. Her slender frame made him doubt if she’d eaten properly—it was only natural. So she must have suffered terribly even in death.
She must have agonized because of the husband who knew she was sensitive to cold and needed good care but neglected her anyway. A dull ache throbbed inside his ribs.
If I’d even placed a restraint spell on you, you should have shut up and obeyed—why get swayed by that stupid bitch, rebel against the restraint, and end up like this!
The poison clouding his mind cleared, and the noise filling the world faded. Seeing Kaella with a clear, pristine mind and senses made everything crystal clear. He quietly undid the knot securing his cloak.
“Your Grace, may I have a moment?”
At the offer for a private word, the Ostein Duke nodded and carefully seated Kaella on the sofa.
“Of course. Stay here a bit, Kaella.”
Leave her alone with her father and husband? No way. As Kaella twitched to intervene, her husband’s thick, overly long cloak was suddenly thrust toward her. Startled, she looked up at Pheon.
“Hold my cloak for a moment.”
“Yes. Drape that over yourself. You’re shaking too much.”
Before she could refuse, her father chimed in, leaving Kaella clutching the burdensome cloak—which was too big for her anyway—and watching the two men round the corner.
It was too vivid to keep dismissing as a dream. Yes, excessively so.
The cold sweat, clammy palms, ragged breathing from tension and excitement, and heart pounding as if to shatter her ribs proved she was alive, no matter how she tried to ignore it. No dream could feel this real.
If it was vivid reality, then hunger would mean an empty stomach, injury would mean pain. Her weary mind, hating that endless torment, turned on its own. So what exactly should she do now?
‘…In the original course, the Emperor would have killed Daddy and seized Ostein. It’s a land where gold rolls in the streets. But now, Daddy’s alive.’
Yes. It was joyous, but the timing was poor. The imperial palace was on high alert from rumors of the Empress’s collapse, security tighter than ever.
‘In this situation, that man has the highest chance of getting attacked by the Emperor for no reason.’
The Lüsenford Duke would have to tread carefully now too. After all, he was the Empress’s only son and eternal proof of betrayal.
She didn’t want to abandon this reality after barely saving her father.
And she didn’t want to live in pain, hardship, and sorrow anymore. It was instinct, so Kaella decided to seize this day. Survive today first. Then she had to eavesdrop.
Kaella crept over to the sofa nearer the corner where her father and the Duke had gone. Far freer now than during her Duchess days when all information was blocked, she had to hear everything she could.
But the first words she overheard were shockingly stunning.
“Did you forget the live rounds when you gifted the pistol, my lord?”
Kaella clapped a hand over her mouth. Pheon had forgotten the bullets?
‘So the protective artifact hadn’t activated?’
Who gifts a pistol without the bullets? They go together. At least Kranian Empire nobles didn’t make such sloppy presents.
Kaella shifted closer, pressing against the wall. This was the imperial palace—words had to be cautious, always. She scanned for anyone else who might overhear. Pheon’s calm reply came.
“I deemed it safer to forget them.”
Adeo was in a position to stay in the palace to console his half-brother, who had pointed a gun at him and pulled the trigger. But he knew this young Duke was in an even harsher spot.
“…His Majesty will surely reprimand you for it.”
The conqueror of the north. A knight who knew no defeat. The empire’s greatest warrior, standing alone against the Evil Dragon Overlante to guard the north—his thick brows shaded mysterious violet eyes that turned courteously to Adeo. A steady gaze that knew everything.
“His Majesty will completely forget there were no bullets. It’s the same reason Your Grace and I can have this conversation freely in the palace.”
Pheon asserted confidently. As Adeo knew, Pheon had been sent north because the Emperor clung tightly to his mother the Empress and his childhood friend Beatrice.
Only twice a year, he had to devote everything to protecting the empire just to see those pitiable women.
Yet strangely, he remained eerily calm even after hearing his cherished mother had collapsed. Like a cold-blooded man with no stake, or someone who had foreseen this.
“Your Grace, I believe you’ve realized one thing today. His Majesty was quite bored today.”
Today, the Ostein Duke had learned clearly that the Emperor saw people—his own half-brother—as mere amusements to kill when boredom struck.
Having died miserably once himself, Pheon silently watched the Ostein Duke’s shock, shame, and rage.
“You must live long, Your Grace.”
Pheon glanced toward the corner. A woman clutching his overly long cloak haphazardly and creeping closer was eavesdropping. He lowered his voice further.
“You must live long for your daughter’s sake.”
Adeo had to be Kaella’s steadfast protector and sole family support. Pheon knew all too well what fate befell her without him.
“And I’ll align my story with the attendant who came earlier, so His Majesty won’t reprimand the Lady for coming to the Monster’s Garden.”
“Thank you. I owe you greatly.”
Adeo didn’t know why the Lüsenford Duke was helping him and his daughter, but he had his guesses and held his tongue.
Everyone tied to the imperial family was the Emperor’s prey. Especially the Lüsenford Duke, who had endured the Emperor’s obsessive torment since birth.
“With the Empress collapsed, are you all right?”
Adeo eyed the young Duke who had struggled to survive abuse since childhood. But he was no longer looking at the Ostein Duke.
“I’m fine. Your Grace, excuse me for a moment.”
Pheon rounded the corner again. Someone new had just arrived.
“Ah, Pheon.”
The person who looked up from intently examining the cloak draped over the pretending-to-sleep Kaella called him gladly.
Pheon’s brow twitched involuntarily. Beatrice Lavalle smiled her signature smile.
The beauty of the century with pristine, glamorous silver hair and pale pink eyes—Pheon’s childhood friend. On the surface, pure, shy, and polite, she set every man’s heart ablaze. Pheon had once mistaken his feelings for her as love.
“How awful. What should we do?”
Or perhaps he’d been brainwashed into thinking it was love. Beatrice chattered on, but Pheon shifted his gaze to Kaella, pretending to sleep to hide that he’d been overheard.
I saw Lady Lavalle coming from the Aquitel Palace side just as I arrived.
He was the Empress’s son, and Kaella the Ostein Duke’s only daughter, so they’d crossed paths often since childhood.
Pheon had played with Kaella a lot. She’d followed her seven-years-older “big brother” devotedly, calling out to him. Now they were adults and didn’t meet as often, so her speech could be excused generously.
‘Why isn’t she telling me to go to Beatrice?’
The girl who would never do such a thing had run up, clung to him desperately, and begged.
With the beloved of all men, Beatrice Lavalle, here—go to her. Get lost. Even though she’d always yielded to Beatrice since childhood without giving up, always forcing a smile before him, she told him to leave.
You’re the product of filth, Hyperion. A filthy mongrel who betrayed an unbreakable vow. Rotten from birth! You couldn’t know trust, loyalty, such virtues!
The words the Emperor spat at young Pheon whenever he could—pointing fingers—were ultimately true.
To prove otherwise, he’d ignored Kaella in the name of loyalty to Beatrice, but he was rotten from birth. Charging toward ruin ensnared by such flimsy brainwashing proved it.
“Is the Empress all right? Are you okay, Pheon?”
Beatrice fretted over him intensely, and he’d mistaken a single word from her for kindness, swallowing it whole. Even when he sensed something was wrong, his foggy mind swallowed more poison, growing foggier.
His only friend, first love, sole ally—he could never voice wanting to end it. He’d been conditioned to see that as lacking trust, loyalty, righteousness. Pheon had been controlled that way.
“Guards.”
Pheon looked down at Beatrice coldly and called the guards.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Why has an outsider entered Altein Palace, restricted to imperial family only?”
Kaella, startled by the man’s low, stern voice, cracked open her weary eyes.
“Do you not know etiquette, Lady Lavalle?”
Something utterly impossible was happening. The cold, contemptuous expression and tone always directed at Kaella were now aimed at Beatrice Lavalle.
“Non-royals may not enter or exit Altein Palace freely. You must show respect first to the Ostein Duke and Lady. And mind your words in observance of the strict rules of His Majesty’s palace—do you not know this?”
Kaella had never seen Beatrice Lavalle so shocked. Her beautiful pink eyes widened, lovely cheeks paling. In a situation where all society would pity the queen of high society, the Lüsenford Duke pressed on mercilessly.
“Escort this unauthorized person to the exit.”
“Yes, Your Highness. My apologies. This way, Lady.”
“Phe… Pheon.”
Pheon. The pet name Kaella had always longed to use but was denied—Beatrice could call him that casually.
It stung with envy, a misery of being unpermitted, as she watched blankly while high society’s flower was half-dragged out. An unthinkable event in society.
“I apologize for the unseemly display, Your Grace. Sorry, Kaella.”
“No, it’s not your fault.”
“No. For now, Kaella seems exhausted—she should rest separately.”
Kaella watched Beatrice, draped in the latest watery-blue gown she could never dream of wearing, dragged away; Pheon, who had personally issued the dismissal order, now worried for her. Blinking, she raised her hand high.
‘She still hasn’t come to her senses.’
Even with her father right there, acting so foolish and pathetic.
A loud smack echoed as she slapped her own cheek.
