Chapter 6
A change of heart is betrayal.
“Hyperion, I trust you.”
The emperor, who had briefly lost his mind due to the empress, spoke with utmost seriousness, but Pheon didn’t believe a word of it. He had learned through his body that such tiresome words were all blatant lies.
The emperor, who claimed to trust him, possessed several legendary magic tools known as mirrors that could see anywhere. He constantly monitored Lüsenford through those mirrors and had spies planted densely everywhere.
Thus, Pheon distrusted everything, just like the emperor. Kaella was naturally included in that suspicion. No matter how hard she worked for Lüsenford, he refused to see it properly, blinded as he was, and suspected her from beginning to end.
If it had been anyone else from Lüsenford—even if they were secretly acting as a spy for the emperor in exchange for money—he would have given them one more chance and shown mercy. But he had never once given her that opportunity.
For her to die so miserably in that cramped tower, pierced by the sharp spears and arrows that rained down—that end was far too good for the grand duke. To dare die by her side when she didn’t even have the right to have him there. It was truly excessive.
“They say Keruzhan is sending Prince Elcanan. He’s no ordinary man.”
Elcanan of the Keruzhan Kingdom. Second-in-command after the king, his brother.
Pheon, who had already experienced the prince’s visit before his regression, remembered his handsome, refined face, lightly tanned.
Unlike Pheon, Elcanan appeared sociable on the surface and smiled easily, sharing quite a few conversations with Kaella. It must have been a great comfort to her after suddenly losing her father, but in the end, her husband was decided to be Pheon, not Prince Elcanan.
“Of course they’d send the outstanding Prince Elcanan, since King Hügel trusts him.”
Pheon replied indifferently. Before the regression, the emperor had arranged his marriage to Kaella to leash him once more and inflict endless defeat upon him. It was to teach him that he could never have what he truly desired.
The emperor was cunning. He had laid out bait before the young Pheon—or rather, the brainwashing that it was only natural. That he would one day live with his mother, and that he would marry Beatrice Lavalle, his childhood friend and first love.
The memories of his childhood days with his mother and peers were his happiest, so Pheon could only instinctively chase after those times.
The faint memories with his mother and his first love at seven years old had long since sunk into an absolute duty of “it must be so” and vanished.
“So you and Adeo will have to handle him.”
Even the Duke of Ostein furrowed his brow. Pheon replied flatly.
“It would be an honor, but please assign Crown Prince Gregory instead, Your Majesty. This is no role for a mere grand duke.”
In the past, whenever such things arose, he had desperately tried to prove his own worth. But no matter what, he had merely struggled within the life the emperor had designed, never knowing what he himself wanted, just floundering as ordered. It had all been futile.
“Indeed, Your Majesty. It’s only proper for Your Majesty’s heir to take this on rather than this unworthy younger brother.”
Pheon let Adeo’s words flow past him. Having died once properly and come back to life, he had finally found some leisure.
The leisure to be angry, to wait and endure, to let things slide appropriately and speak honeyed words, and above all, the leisure to quietly observe where his own heart turned.
All his nerves flowed toward the petite Duchess of Ostein, who now stood silently with her lips sealed. He was intensely aware of this calm, elegant, and intelligent lady, to an absurd degree.
Was it guilt? No, if it were just guilt, he wouldn’t have paid attention before their marriage to how healthy Kaella was or how nicely her cheeks had filled out.
“That boy is still too young.”
The emperor cut him off ruthlessly. He probably thought Pheon would be even more grateful for that. It was like tossing a bare bone to a dog leashed on a chain, without even a scrap of meat.
“He needs to be retrained in basic etiquette first.”
If the crown prince had waited at Altein Palace when the empress collapsed, he wouldn’t have heard such words. The emperor’s voice was thick with displeasure.
“But he is still Your Majesty’s blood.”
Not mine. Pheon drew the line just as the emperor always had, only more politely.
“There must be parts of him that take after Your Majesty.”
Kaella, who had no choice but to listen quietly, looked at Pheon as if he were strange.
‘He wasn’t one to speak so smoothly?’
To be precise, Pheon had been taciturn. He expressed his opinions clearly but couldn’t win against the emperor’s pressure. Each time, he couldn’t help recalling his mother and Beatrice, held in the emperor’s grasp.
Even after marriage, when he went to Lüsenford and faced the emperor’s envoys or letters, it was the same. Whatever the emperor demanded, he refused with reasonable excuses, but the emperor was unreasonable, and Pheon ended up bearing even greater sacrifices himself.
‘Is it because the empress collapsed?’
That could be. For Pheon, the most important person in his life might no longer be able to serve as a hostage.
Compared to his precious mother, Beatrice carried a bit less weight, so perhaps he was drawing a line with her too. That would make things easier for Pheon. As Kaella thought this, she lowered her eyes.
For so long, she had no one on her side. Information coming in was scarce, and she always had to watch carefully, analyze, and think for a long time.
That habit lingered even now. Of course it did. In her memory, it had been less than a week since she drank poison and died in the cold North Tower of Lüsenford.
“Learning comes first, no matter what.”
The emperor, who had pondered for a long while, shook his head as if he couldn’t see any other way.
“You set the example first, and Gregory will learn plenty from you.”
As if Pheon had learned anything himself. Etiquette and necessary education had been crammed in as best as the empress could manage during their once-a-year meetings, but it was never enough.
The rest—social graces and politics—he had barely picked up through fierce struggles under the harsh gazes of the emperor and nobles, learning from direct experience.
Even so, he remained clumsy, and the obsessions and sense of duty implanted in him prevented more adept actions. He hadn’t even realized he was shackled by his own restraints, so in the end, he could only die.
“I am still too lacking myself to set an example.”
“Ah, enough with the humility. You do it. You’re the right man for the job. Have Kaella handle the banquet. Ask Adeo if there’s anything you don’t know, not me.”
The emperor waved his hand as if he wouldn’t hear more. Since the empress’s collapse, he suddenly looked several years older these days.
“The three of you handle it together. Right now, you three are the only ones I trust.”
When he put it that way, there was no room to refuse further.
“Understood, Your Majesty.”
At the Duke of Ostein’s words, Pheon bowed his head alongside Kaella.
*
Suddenly thrust into discussions about the delegation’s visit, Kaella returned to Altein Palace instead of going home and bit her lip hard as she stared at the table.
No matter how grave the times, the Kranian Empire was immensely wealthy. With vast lands, its food culture had developed diversely, and the imperial palace’s table could never be modest or frugal. Even the famously picky emperor was a gourmet.
Having set aside her appetite amid the recent shocks and tensions, Kaella felt the hunger lurking deep in her stomach—no, in the depths of her heart—stirring wildly.
Today’s menu included onion soup simmered long for deep flavor, a thick potage loaded with potatoes and plentiful vegetables, crispy grilled sea bream with roasted vegetables, thick beef with asparagus, apricot torte laden with cream, and three kinds of beverages.
She could eat as much as she wanted of what she craved. Kaella squeezed her eyes shut against the impulse to devour the entire table.
‘I need to pull myself together. I can’t lose my dignity in the imperial palace.’
Starving was utter agony. When locked in the tower, she had tried to endure the hunger by drinking water melted from snow, but later she wanted to stuff anything into her mouth—rotten wood, stones, dirt.
By then, thankfully, she lacked even the strength to pick anything up. She lay curled in pain on the cold stone floor, wracked by squeezing coughs, waiting for death to come.
All the while, she kept thinking of these warm, soft, richly flavored foods—over and over.
“Let’s eat first. A full stomach makes the mind work better.”
Pheon glanced at Kaella, who stared uncomfortably at the soup. With her hair tied back with a ribbon and sitting primly, she seemed to be regulating her diet like any other lady.
“Eat plenty, Kaella.”
“Ah, yes… sure.”
He simply hoped that Kaella, who had mumbled something like informal speech belatedly, would eat deliciously and heartily. He had seen her corpse only in a flash, but that moment was etched into Pheon’s memory forever.
Her lustrous platinum hair had turned brittle and fallen out in patches, and her exposed skin bore no unmarred spots from malnutrition and frostbite. He wanted the Kaella who had died with her gaunt, bony face and vacant eyes to have eaten well.
But he apparently lacked the qualification. Kaella averted her gaze as if facing a difficult person and picked up her utensils.
“Your return to Lüsenford will be delayed, I suppose.”
“Yes, Your Highness. Especially now, I should remain in Kline longer.”
Kaella began her meal with this strange man in this strange world. The thick potage that enveloped her tongue was so savory and delicious.
Before she mindlessly scraped the bowl in an undignified manner, she made sure to glance at Pheon once or twice. Seeing the man who had left her to starve to death helped her regain her senses.
“How has the Evil Dragon been lately?”
“Quiet.”
Pheon answered confidently.
“It’ll stay quiet for the next few months. The north is at peace.”
“Is that so? That’s welcome news.”
Others would glare suspiciously if Pheon said things were idle, implying he was neglecting his duty as guardian of the north, but Adeo alone was genuinely pleased.
“That’s a relief. With the north quiet, everyone can enjoy peace. Most fortunate. Did you prepare in advance?”
“We must always be prepared. There are no unusual movements from monsters or spirits, which is why I report it.”
“His Majesty must be pleased.”
“His Majesty doesn’t know.”
Unlike Kaella, who had already cleanly finished her potage, the gentlemen ate very slowly.
“He doesn’t know?”
The emperor was extremely sensitive to the movements of the Evil Dragon Kaslante, who had suddenly started rampaging in the north.
Because the Evil Dragon was a colossal being who could annihilate the empire at any moment. The only silver lining was the millennium-old pact between the Evil Dragon and Crania, which prevented the dragon’s magic from affecting the empire.
But the massive flames the Evil Dragon unleashed and the monsters and spirits under his command were another matter entirely. Thus, the Grand Duke of Lüsenford had no choice but to confront the Evil Dragon directly.
If the north fell, the empire would be in peril. For the emperor, who poured his heart into northern defense, to not know of this?
“It didn’t seem like the right time to report it. There’s no need to worry if it’s safe.”
“That’s true, but…”
Adeo nodded. His half-brother’s abnormal obsession with his wife was infamous. It had been that way from the start, to the point of overlooking even illegitimate children—so how sane could the emperor be now?
“There are many things His Majesty can’t concern himself with. We must handle them well in his stead.”
Kaella, busily eating her second onion soup, hurriedly covered her mouth. A startled cough threatened to burst out. Wasn’t that an extremely dangerous statement? It sounded like they would handle matters under the emperor’s authority on their own.
Of all people, the Grand Duke of Lüsenford—who would never say such a thing—uttering it. Kaella, who had been possessed-like in eating and suffered this mishap, tried to cough very softly, very quietly.
“His Majesty’s health is a concern right now as well. He mustn’t overwork himself.”
Pheon calmly offered her a napkin to the suffering Kaella making strange noises, smoothly pushed a glass of water toward her, and provided a reasonable justification for words that sounded like treason.
Kaella couldn’t even say thank you politely; she snatched the napkin, covered her mouth, and left her seat.
Only after exiting the dining hall did she cough loudly and compose herself, gasping for breath as she glanced back at the dining hall.
‘Is he mad?’
To make such a bold statement with the serving attendants present.
Kaella imagined the emperor’s reaction upon hearing those words. During her time as grand duchess, it would have been grounds for the emperor to rage immediately, summon the Grand Duke of Lüsenford, and cause an uproar.
With his hobby of surveilling his every move, picking fights, and nitpicking, the emperor wouldn’t stay silent. Pheon always had to grovel before him; otherwise, support for the barren Lüsenford would be cut off abruptly.
And yet? Because they worried about the emperor’s health, they would handle well the things he couldn’t concern himself with?
Who was this man so casually uttering words no one in the empire would dare voice? She looked down at the napkin clutched in her hand.
‘Why did he give me this?’
Did he pity her like a younger sibling he knew? Victimhood suddenly surged within her, and Kaella hurriedly regulated her breathing before reentering the dining hall.
‘Pity? Too far. Get a grip.’
The man, eyes bearing the emperor’s lilac hue, stared piercingly at her.
“Are you all right?”
At her kind father’s question, Kaella nodded quickly and sat back down.
As she absentmindedly reached for her water glass, she noticed it wasn’t in its original spot but placed very close. From the direction, Pheon had pushed it over.
Kaella sat in the sunlit dining hall and recalled the dinners she had shared alone with him in wind-swept, dim Lüsenford.
Your mouth is used more for talking than eating, it seems.
It was a remark that had sealed the lips that chattered during meals about how his day had been, how her day had been.
In the Duke of Ostein’s dining hall, father and daughter chatting amiably over meals was the most important part of daily life, but in the desolate north, silence filled the table between husband and wife.
Kaella gazed down at her soup bowl. Even though she had starved to death, the memory gripped her more fiercely than the maddening hunger.
Her appetite waned. Was that a blessing, perhaps?
