BWG - 7

The city remained as it always had been—its glittering, prosperous façade still intact.

Even after Eleanor had gone for her convalescence, a few banquets were held in rotation among the noble estates.

Crown Prince Leonard, however, rarely attended any gatherings without her. Lately, he’d become quite scarce in social circles. People praised him for being so distraught over his fiancée’s illness, elevating his image as a devoted and caring man.

Of course, it was true that Leonard felt genuine concern for Eleanor’s condition. He had even questioned Edwin in detail about how her health had changed after his visit to her recuperation spot at Rubellon Hills.

But the real issue lay in the root of his emotions. His desire for her to recover quickly so she could fully belong to him only grew stronger with each passing day.

Moreover, he didn’t overlook anything suspicious about her either, relentlessly digging into every detail.

The last time he had someone tail Eleanor, they reported that she spent an entire day at a hotel in the city. Leonard heard from his informant that she was tracked entering and leaving the hotel, noting the exact times.

Afterward, he instructed them to find concrete evidence while devising ways to catch her red-handed. But Eleanor never slipped up under their watchful eyes. Now that she was tucked away in the countryside for her recovery, the chance to catch her in the act with another man had vanished.

‘I thought she was a docile little kitten, but this is how you stab me in the back? Eleanor, after all my love for you, how dare you…’

Leonard’s face twisted in rage as he read through the investigative reports on her, his complexion pale with fury.

He had no intention of letting this go.

He scoured anyone who might have seen Eleanor meeting with a man.

First, he interrogated the hotel staff who were working the day she visited. Since there were only a dozen or so employees on duty, it wasn’t hard to grill them one by one.

He also investigated the servants of the Rolland household. It was easy to get information since he had long planted a spy among their maids.

Yet, no matter where he looked, no useful information surfaced. No one seemed to know about Eleanor’s supposed secret lover. The guards and carriage driver who accompanied her were the most likely witnesses, but both claimed they stayed in the hotel’s first-floor cafeteria drinking tea. Based on the circumstances, it seemed as though she had simply gone to the room alone to clear her head.

‘There’s no way that’s true. Why would Eleanor go to a hotel by herself?’

His investigation dragged on without progress. Even after stationing an informant permanently outside the hotel, nothing came of it.

In truth, the reason Leonard failed to gather more intel was due to a hidden factor.

The hotel manager, Herod, was fully aware of where the informants were hiding. As a result, Eleanor took extra precautions whenever she visited, and countermeasures were put in place to mislead the spies.

But Leonard wasn’t the type to give up easily. His obsessive tendencies knew no bounds, and his ultimate target was Eleanor. Determined to uncover the identity of the man she met at the hotel, he continued his relentless pursuit.

Rather than sending thoughtful gifts or letters to Eleanor, who was bedridden, he became consumed with finding out who she met at the hotel.

Eventually, Leonard’s frustration boiled over, and he acted recklessly.

Summoning the leader of his intelligence organization, he ordered them to kidnap someone—anyone—at random.

The group known as Diloc, composed of foreign mercenaries, depended on Leonard’s funding for survival. They had no choice but to obey his commands, no matter how unreasonable. Even the order to abduct and torture indiscriminately had to be followed.

With no other leads, the organization decided to snatch someone who might provide answers. Among the hotel staff who worked there at the time, they chose the easiest target: the manager of Bluewing Hotel.

Leonard received a note from Diloc.

“The hotel manager who was at the front desk surely saw Lady Eleanor. We’ve brought him in. If you wish, we can interrogate him and extract a confession.”

It had been over a month since Eleanor visited the hotel, but Leonard nodded grimly to himself.

At this point, his temper was such that he wanted to twist someone’s neck just to feel better. Whether or not the manager remembered a guest from weeks ago didn’t matter; the man was already as good as dead.

“Leave him untouched. I’ll handle him personally.”

After sending the note, Leonard slipped out of the palace unnoticed that night.

As he entered the safe house, Leonard scowled. The place reeked like a sewer.

Despite receiving advance notice of the Crown Prince’s arrival, the organization had prepared what they considered their finest location—but to Leonard, it was unbearable. His irritation spiked further when the musty smell of mold hit him as he was led to the basement. Unable to tolerate the stench, he eventually moved the operation upstairs.

Shortly afterward, a man with his hands tightly bound was dragged in and tied to a chair. Leonard’s mouth watered like a hungry predator eyeing its prey.

“Are you the hotel manager?”

The man trembled in fear, lowering his gaze. He appeared to be in his early thirties, small-framed. Though somewhat young for a hotel manager, his unremarkable features made him blend in seamlessly.

“Yes, I’m Herod.”

Hearing the quiver in his voice, Leonard felt immense satisfaction. This was going to be fun.

Before beginning, he dismissed everyone from the room. He preferred doing dirty work in private and hated showing off his methods to others. Besides, watching someone die alone was far more entertaining.

While waiting for the guards and operatives to leave, Leonard examined Herod’s body piece by piece.

On a nearby table lay tools he’d brought from the palace.

Herod, huh?

Muttering the name of a man he cared nothing about, Leonard scanned the toolbox. Selecting instruments gave him a thrill akin to sexual climax. Since he needed to finish before dawn, he opted for something quick and brutal. It was unfortunate he had to rush back to the palace, but rules were rules.

“So, you were at the hotel counter on April 23rd, weren’t you?”

A terrified, stuttering reply came.

“Y-yes, yes!”

Various skewers were neatly displayed in velvet compartments inside a wooden case.

Some were thin as needles, resembling medical tools from distant lands.

“Hmm, I’ll save this one for Eleanor later.”

Humming to himself, Leonard skipped over the smaller skewers. These caused great pain but left little visible evidence—perfect for disciplining his future empress.

After much deliberation, Leonard selected a large nail, similar in size to those used in construction. Holding it along with a hammer, he turned toward Herod, burning with the urge to vent his frustrations. Still, he asked a question for formality’s sake.

“Eleanor entered the hotel in the morning. You really don’t remember?”

“I’m sorry, but no matter how many times you ask, I can’t recall.”

“She’s a striking beauty—most people would remember seeing her.”

And indeed, almost everyone did, especially younger men. There was some logic to Leonard’s persistence.

Herod begged pitifully, tears streaming down his face.

“Please forgive me! Please spare my life!”

“How many guests usually check in during the morning?”

“Not many.”

“Then why don’t you remember?”

Leonard rarely resorted to physical violence himself—he disliked the feeling of sore hands. Instead, he relied heavily on tools.

Standing before the bound Herod, he brandished a two-span-long nail.

Herod’s face turned ashen.

“Ugh… Please, it’s my terrible memory that’s the problem!”

Leonard didn’t expect much from the terrified man’s screams. If he couldn’t remember, so be it. Twirling the nail between his fingers, Leonard grinned wickedly.

Where should I drive this in?

The thigh seemed like a safe bet, but perhaps somewhere more shocking would do.

He wasn’t particularly invested in the interrogation. His mind was filled with thoughts of amusing games to play with Herod instead. His questions lacked sincerity.

“By the way, I’ve never stayed at a downtown hotel, so I’m curious—”

This was mere curiosity, nothing more.

“As the manager, isn’t your position relatively high-ranking? Better than bellhops or cleaners, right? So, is manning the reception counter considered important work?”

“……”

Herod stared back blankly, as if he didn’t quite understand the question.

“I’m asking whether it’s normal for a hotel manager to personally handle guests at the front desk. Is that something you usually do?”

“Uh? Y-yes, well… that is…”

“Why are your answers so vague? Is there something you’re hiding?”

“It’s not normally my job. We were short-staffed at the hotel, so I was covering the morning shift at the counter.”

“The morning shift only? But I heard you were there until the evening that day.”

“That…”

Herod had been stuttering and trembling ever since they met. Even though his words came haltingly, Leonard hadn’t noticed anything particularly unusual about him.

Still expecting another meaningless answer, Leonard tightened his grip on the hammer.

“That day was unusually busy.”

“Yeah, sure it was.”

With an indifferent shrug, Leonard positioned the nail over Herod’s thigh on the chair.

He stared directly into the man’s eyes. By now, Herod should have been panicking in sheer terror.

Herod continued to beg for mercy in a quivering voice, tears streaming down his face.

But upon closer inspection, Leonard noticed something unexpected in his expression.

When Leonard had toyed with people from the palace before, he’d never seen this kind of look. Everyone always flipped their eyes in fear, overwhelmed by the prospect of death. He’d never encountered anyone who remained defiant in the face of mortal danger.

But this man was different. For the briefest moment—a flash so fleeting Leonard almost thought he’d imagined it—Herod glared sharply at him.

“What are you?” Leonard muttered under his breath.

At that exact moment, a sharp pain exploded across his forehead.

“Ugh!”

Herod had suddenly headbutted him.

Lightning seemed to flash before Leonard’s eyes as he collapsed backward.

The nail and hammer clattered noisily to the floor. Since Leonard had instructed the guards outside not to enter unless they heard more than simple screams, no one came in.

Herod, still tied to the chair, toppled over onto Leonard’s prone body. What followed was an unexpected brawl.

Surprisingly, Herod’s hands, which should have been bound behind his back, were free.

Though small in stature, the man’s movements were incredibly swift.

First, he tore a piece of Leonard’s clothing and stuffed it into his mouth before Leonard could react. There was no time to resist as he was quickly subdued.

Without even throwing a punch, Leonard found himself effortlessly overpowered. Within moments, his limbs were immobilized.

The room echoed with the sound of violent scuffling, but no voices emerged. Gagged, Leonard could only listen as Herod leaned in close, breathing heavily, and whispered into his ear.

“I won’t harm you. After all, you are the Crown Prince. Just stay quiet here for a while.”

Since Herod hadn’t bothered to conceal his identity, it seemed he didn’t intend to kill Leonard. And true to his word, he didn’t inflict further harm. Instead, he tied Leonard to the same chair Herod had been bound to earlier, adding an extra precaution by securing the chair legs to a heavy bedpost.

Leonard was now completely isolated. Even if he struggled and tried to call for help, the most he could manage was kicking his feet weakly.

The gag dug painfully into his mouth, and saliva dribbled uncontrollably down his chin.

Leonard glared fiercely at Herod.

“Shh.”

Herod placed a finger over Leonard’s gagged lips, feigning panic and trembling as he spoke.

“Phew, luckily… the ropes around my wrists were loose. Maybe it was fate telling me not to die here.”

During the move from the basement to the second floor, the atmosphere had been chaotic, giving Herod the chance to loosen his bindings unnoticed.

But to Leonard, it merely looked like a desperate hotel manager trying to escape death. Herod had successfully concealed the fact that he was one of the Empire’s top intelligence operatives.

As he gazed out the window at the dark night sky, Herod fidgeted nervously, pacing lightly and pretending to bite his nails.

“Well, um… the problem now is getting out of here. Should I jump?”

Leonard groaned through the gag.

“Your Highness, don’t waste your energy. It would be best if you just rested for a bit. Someone will come eventually.”

“…”

“Sigh… Even if I manage to escape alive, I don’t know where to go.”

Herod put on an exaggerated act, pretending to be an ordinary person gripped by fear and uncertainty.

When Herod hesitated at the second-floor window, seemingly afraid to jump, Leonard eyed him suspiciously.

His movements were quick and precise, like those of a trained assassin, yet his actions portrayed nothing but cowardice. The sharp glint in his eyes from earlier had faded, replaced once again by fear. Watching this, Leonard began to wonder if he’d overestimated Herod’s sudden attack.

His forehead throbbed painfully where Herod had headbutted him, and his vision swam dizzily. The shock of being countered had left him too disoriented to think clearly, leaving him focused solely on enduring the pain.

“Well, here goes. I hope I don’t break a leg.”

Herod hesitated dramatically before throwing himself out the window.

Outside, the alleyways of the city outskirts lay deserted. The night was deep, and dawn was still hours away. Leonard desperately tried to call for help, but his muffled groans were too faint to be heard.

It seemed luck was on Herod’s side. Perhaps he had some hidden skills or a rough past—he certainly didn’t seem like an ordinary hotel manager. Whatever the case, his attack on Leonard had been unexpectedly fierce.

Herod clearly didn’t remember Eleanor, but Leonard had no intention of letting him escape unscathed. The idea of his prey slipping away was unacceptable.

Once the ropes binding him were loosened, Leonard vowed to pressure the Diloc organization into hunting Herod down.

---

Early the next morning, Eleanor felt a gentle hand caressing her cheek.

The familiar touch traced slowly along her jawline, ending with a soft press of the thumb against her lips. As her mouth parted slightly, the fingers lingered teasingly.

The sensation was deeply familiar. There was only one person who touched her like this in bed. Without hesitation, she reached out blindly toward the space beside her.

“Eleanor, sorry to wake you.”

Fertan’s sturdy frame slid into her arms as she instinctively tucked her hand under his armpit.

“Mmm…”

A warm kiss brushed against her brow.

“Herod contacted me. He said he was captured by Leonard and nearly killed.”

Her eyes flew open. All traces of sleep vanished as she bolted upright in shock.

“Really? Is Herod okay?”

“He escaped unharmed. Herod’s a professional in these situations, so he handled it well.”

“Oh, thank goodness for that.”

Fertan cleared his throat and explained further.

“Leonard has been investigating your visit to the Bluewing Hotel. When he couldn’t find anything, he decided to kidnap Herod and torture him.”

“How awful…”

“According to Herod, Leonard isn’t going to give up anytime soon.”

“You’re right. Once he fixates on something, he becomes obsessively relentless.”

The fact that she was the object of his obsession made her too uncomfortable to say it aloud. But Fertan, stroking her with a bittersweet gaze, seemed to understand her unspoken feelings to some extent.

After informing her that Herod had decided to lay low for a while for safety reasons, he cautiously broached another topic with Eleanor.

“So, there’s something I need to tell you.”

His hesitant demeanor was unmistakably gloomy.

“I’ll have to leave your side for a few days. I’ve got some things to take care of and will return as soon as I can.”

“Of course. You need to handle the situation. Take your time and don’t rush back.”

“As for Leonard… It’s hard to predict what he’ll do next. He’s cruel by nature, so he might try something reckless—like what he did when he abducted Herod.”

“I thought it was strange that nothing happened after he found out about the hotel. Turns out it wasn’t over after all.”

Fertan blinked slowly.

“We should prepare ourselves accordingly.”

“What kind of preparation?”

“Leonard is planning a short trip. No doubt, he’s coming here.”

Her eyes widened further as she looked up at him from beneath his chin.

The inevitable had finally arrived. Whether sooner or later, Leonard was the type of person who would storm into her life and cause trouble.

With a furrowed cheek, Fertan gently rubbed her head.

When their gazes met again, his were filled with apology. He couldn’t stay by her side indefinitely. Though aware of Leonard’s ominous intentions, Fertan had no choice but to head to the capital to clean up the mess and devise countermeasures.

Eleanor understood the situation fully. Though she felt a pang of regret, she wasn’t resentful.

“Don’t worry about me. Surely, with so many people around, they wouldn’t dare drag me off somewhere.”

“My thoughts differ. I think he’s coming to take you away.”

“M-me? Really?”

He glanced at her briefly before continuing.

“If Leonard interrogates you about your hidden lover… just give him someone’s name outright.”

“What?”

“You fight back hard too. The louder the argument gets, the better. The more chaotic it becomes, the less chance there is for him to pull off anything sneaky.”

Eleanor’s heart sank.

“How could I possibly mention your name? That would be disastrous.”

Fertan cradled her delicate jaw in his hand, gazing deeply into her eyes.

Then, overcome with emotion, he pressed a tender kiss on her lips—a fleeting touch that lingered only briefly.

“Ha, alright.”

“…?”

“This means I’m officially acknowledging myself as your lover.”

“Fertan!”

Clearly, his habit of veering off-topic during serious conversations was chronic. Despite the passage of time, it showed no signs of improvement.

Suddenly flustered, she punched his chest in exasperation.

And true to form, he chuckled gleefully every time she hit him—a quirk that never failed to surface.

“Keep my name in your heart, but how about bringing in another man instead?”

“Another man?”

“Remember this well: Adam Roberto. He’s the third son of the Roberto earldom, and he’s trustworthy. I’ll make sure Adam lays low once I get to the capital, so you claim him as your lover.”

“Adam Roberto…”

She had never met the man before. Though she’d heard of the Roberto family, their paths had never crossed. Now, out of the blue, she was being set up as lovers with a complete stranger.

Still, she liked this plan immensely. Leonard would stop at nothing to uncover her supposed secret lover, so throwing him a decoy would be satisfying indeed.

Moreover, this might be her chance to vent all the pent-up frustration she harbored toward Leonard.

The thought of clashing fiercely with him stirred something within her, igniting a fiery determination.

When had she become so combative, like a snarling hunting dog ready to bite? A small part of her felt pleased with this newfound aggression.

“I understand. I hope Leonard doesn’t show up, but just in case, I’ll remember everything.”

She carried a mountain of unresolved resentment toward Leonard. There was no longer any reason to tread lightly around him.

In the future she had chosen, the day she became Leonard’s wife would never come. Even if it meant risking decapitation in the event of failure.

If Fertan’s plans succeeded, Leonard would be dethroned; if they failed, Eleanor would face death. Either way, the twisted engagement ceremony had severed any possibility of their union from the moment it was postponed. With no intention of living as part of the imperial family, there was no need to keep tiptoeing around him anymore.

So why shouldn’t she unleash her pent-up grievances at least once?

Thinking combatively, she realized Leonard’s harassment no longer frightened her as much. Still, she needed to thwart his relentless pursuit of her supposed hidden lover.

Fertan showered her face with kisses. Though he claimed he had errands to run, he ended up planting over a hundred kisses on her before dawn broke.

From her face, he moved to her neck, hands, chest, and even below her navel. Reluctant to leave, he continued showering her with affectionate touches.

---

Unfortunately, Eleanor’s hopes that her prediction was wrong came crashing down. Leonard arrived at Rubellon Hills exactly as expected.

Given his penchant for grabbing anyone and torturing them for information, his next move was predictable. After exhausting all other leads, he had come directly to confront Eleanor.

The reason he hadn’t come sooner was that he’d only discovered this through surveillance. Had he learned of it through proper channels, Leonard would have pressured her long ago.

What must have been going through his mind as he rushed to her recuperation site? Perhaps the knowledge that his fiancée had taken a lover wounded his pride. But Leonard wasn’t one to give up—he would rather tighten his grip on her leash and shake her until she submitted.

The day after Fertan left, Leonard sat arrogantly slouched in a chair in the modest parlor of the countryside estate.

He knew her lung condition was improving significantly. Still, he wore a double-layered handkerchief over half his face to guard against potential contagion.

Eleanor greeted him with an attitude markedly different from before, which only fueled his irritation. Gone was the guarded formality she once maintained; now, she appeared far more relaxed. After offering him tea out of politeness—tea she herself didn’t intend to drink—she casually took a sip first.

Leonard, sleep-deprived and seething with anger over the Herod incident, twitched nervously under his darkening, exhausted eyes.

“Eleanor, frankly speaking, I believe your illness stems from elsewhere.”

His tone was sharp from the start.

“Elsewhere? What do you mean?”

“You were unusually active before falling ill. Who did you meet during those outings?”

“Just friends, as usual…”

“Someone claims to have seen you at a downtown hotel. I need to know why you went there.”

Eleanor paused briefly. Leonard had clearly come prepared, and despite her mental readiness, she felt herself faltering. Her unease tightened her chest.

On the other hand, she felt like an actress. After pretending to be a sickly patient, she now had to act out confessing to a fake lover. If she ever became a spy, most of her missions would probably involve such performances. She wondered if she was doing a good job.

Flustered and unsure, Eleanor hesitated before replying.

“How did Your Highness find out about the hotel?”

“I heard it by chance. Who did you meet there?”

Biting her lip, she delayed answering.

“Spit it out. I already know everything.”

Leonard’s threatening tone unnerved her. His bold confidence made her wonder if he somehow possessed information beyond what Fertan had uncovered. Still, she remained calm and stuck to the plan.

Her voice trembled involuntarily, betraying her rising tension.

“Just a friend...”

“Liar! I know you met a man. Someone claims to have seen you.”

As she turned her wavering eyes toward Leonard, she inwardly sighed in relief.

So he knows nothing after all. It’s all just bluffing.

The lover at the hotel—there was no witness, yet Leonard continued to fabricate and embellish the story in his mind. The false narrative snowballed, growing larger with each passing moment.

“They say you spent the entire day there, holed up in the room without stepping out once.”

Perhaps he had vividly imagined such scenes in his head, which made them all the more chilling.

But Leonard didn’t stop there. He spun an elaborate tale about Eleanor’s supposed romantic escapades, from start to finish. He described what supposedly happened behind the closed doors of the hotel room as if he’d witnessed it himself, painting a dirty, detailed picture.

When Eleanor nervously clutched the hem of her dress, trying to act flustered, Leonard became convinced his assumptions were correct. Treating his fabricated story like cheap pulp fiction come to life, he abruptly stood up, his confidence solidified.

His thin, cold fingers grabbed her wrist like a vice.

“How dare you commit adultery?”

Pretending to cry was incredibly difficult for Eleanor. She hadn’t shed a tear since she was a child, and now, no matter how hard she tried, tears wouldn’t come. She could only mimic the expression.

“Adultery? Honestly, that’s not quite right. We’re not married yet, are we?”

His eyes flickered wildly, like those of a fish gasping for air, glowing with madness. His shrill voice rose sharply.

“What? Does that even make sense? You belong to me—head to toe, from the day you were born until the day you die. Whether or not we’ve had the formal marriage declaration, you’re mine!”

“But...”

The pain in her wrist made her struggle desperately to shake him off. This led to a tense tug-of-war between them.

She tried to rise from her seat to escape his grip. The chair toppled over with a loud crash, echoing through the parlor.

As Eleanor retreated, Leonard pursued her like a hunting dog.

The more he advanced with his zombie-like demeanor, the harder she tried to widen the gap between them. Her steps faltered as she stumbled backward.

In that tense moment, with Leonard shouting possessively, her own voice grew louder instinctively.

“But Your Highness has mistresses too!”

His cruel, accusatory gaze wavered slightly. He let out a derisive laugh.

“So what? What does it matter if I entertain women? What does that have to do with you?”

It was clear: he believed he could freely rotate mistresses while Eleanor wasn’t allowed the same freedom.

“It doesn’t matter whether you see mistresses or not. So please, don’t interfere in my private life... Kyaa!”

A slap came flying.

She reflexively raised her arm to block it and quickly retreated further.

Leonard grabbed her like one would grab a mouse, cornering her against the wall. His rough hands groped for her, trying to pin her down.

Suddenly, the situation escalated into a physical altercation.

Eleanor fought with all her might, writhing to prevent him from getting a firm hold on her neck.

Screams filled the air.

Crude curses echoed loudly, devoid of shame, exposing his selfish desires.

“Stop playing games and tell me the bastard’s name!”

Finally catching hold of Eleanor’s shoulder, Leonard pressed down on it like a sharp needle.

“Ahh, aaah! Is anyone out there? Help… help me!”

Her desperate cries were genuine.

His bloodshot eyes mirrored those of a madman. The fleeting look of triumph that crossed Leonard’s face when he finally caught her carried the shadow of death.

It dawned on her that he might actually kill her. Regardless of whether she was the Crown Princess or not, in his current state, Leonard seemed capable of strangling her to death.

Liam burst into the room immediately. He had been stationed outside the parlor, prepared for any trouble.

“Your Highness, please release her.”

Wedge himself between them, Liam cautiously but firmly requested Leonard to let go, gently pulling at his wrist.

“You bastard, get out of my way!”

“My lady is in distress. Please let her go.”

Fortunately, the hand gripping her throat loosened, but the physical struggle continued. Leonard hurled insults, overcome by rage, and delivered a ruthless slap to Liam.

Raw emotions erupted as the three of them grappled fiercely, their movements primal and chaotic.

A hand with sharp nails swiped dangerously close to her face. A terrified scream escaped her lips as she narrowly avoided being scratched.

“Leave my man alone! I won’t meddle with your women either.”

“Eleanor, I thought you were docile, but you’re a real slut.”

“Please don’t compare me to you, Your Highness.”

“You’ve been acting all high and mighty while spreading your legs for anyone, haven’t you?”

Unlike Liam, who couldn’t retaliate against the Crown Prince, Leonard showed no restraint. He mercilessly beat and kicked Liam, eventually shoving him aside. Despite Leonard’s frail appearance, the burly guard momentarily collapsed under the assault.

He pinned Eleanor to the ground, laughing eerily and spouting delirious nonsense.

“Hah, then why not spread your legs for me right now?”

“Your Highness!”

“How about here? I’m extremely excited.”

“Your Highness, please.”

“First, tell me who he is. Who knows? If you behave, I might show you a little mercy.”

No matter how desperately she screamed, no one except Liam reacted. Despite the presence of Leonard’s guards outside, they merely formed a wall around the entrance, pretending not to hear.

A cold, unsettling touch grazed her thigh. Her pores stood on end.

“Adam... It’s Adam. Adam of the Roberto family.”

In a tone of resignation, Eleanor finally uttered the name she had prepared.

“Adam? Who’s that? So you’ve been fooling around with some nobody I’ve never heard of.”

He sneered mockingly.

“Please don’t harm Adam.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That man is already as good as dead.”

“Your Highness...”

Liam, having regained his senses, crawled toward them despite his swollen, bloodied face.

“Please release my lady, Your Highness.”

Staggering, Liam positioned himself between Eleanor and Leonard.

Whereas before he had faced Leonard defensively, this time he turned his back to him, focusing solely on shielding her.

From behind, Leonard’s enraged punches and kicks rained down on Liam. Though Liam braced himself like four pillars, his body wavered under the onslaught. His elbow buckled painfully. Sweat and blood dripped onto Eleanor’s face.

After what felt like an eternity, people from the estate began to gather.

Until the violence could no longer be concealed from outsiders, Liam shielded her with his bare body.

---

“Still no word from Lady Eleanor?”

Unable to hide his anxiety, Fertan paced restlessly, questioning his subordinates gathered for the meeting.

“The last courier arrived this morning. With constant movement, new updates should arrive soon.”

Though Fertan was well-informed about the situation, his eyes kept darting to the clock.

He regretted not being able to stay by her side. Leaving the Rubellon Hills estate, knowing full well Leonard would come to torment her, left him feeling utterly useless.

If she stayed hidden in the mansion, they might avoid confrontation—but such passive behavior wouldn’t solve anything. Trusting that Eleanor could handle her part, he knew he needed to take the initiative and adopt a more aggressive stance.

Fertan was the challenger, and the Emperor stood above him. The disparity in their power was vast.

Even with all his effort, success was uncertain, leaving no room for complacency. In truth, allowing himself to care for someone was a luxury he could scarcely afford.

Still, he couldn’t help but worry about Eleanor facing Leonard alone. His concern consumed him entirely, leaving him restless, unable to sit or stand still. He fretted over what that murderous brat might do to her.

“Your Highness, shall we continue with the meeting?”

Count Ginédien, seated across the table, asked cautiously. His expression was filled with concern for Fertan, who seemed unable to shake thoughts of Eleanor from his mind.

“Ah... yes.”

Fertan snapped out of his daze and tried to focus on the report before him. It detailed the suppression of the Tordun uprising.

The Count, who was supposed to still be away on an expedition, had somehow managed to slip away from his troops to attend this meeting. Breaking away from the Emperor’s watchful eye had been incredibly difficult; the Count had ridden hard, whipping his horse to exhaustion, just to make it here for a few precious hours. Out of respect for the man’s efforts, Fertan knew he needed to set aside his worries about Eleanor—at least for now.

He tapped the report lightly with his fingertips. It was a brief summary analyzing the gains and losses for their side during the campaign.

“The army’s strength was pitiful, and the rebels were nothing but starving peasants...” 

He wanted to sneer at how laughable it all was.

But knowing this wretched reality would one day fall into his hands, he held his tongue. A fleeting smirk of cold disdain passed over Fertan’s lips.

He was well aware that the Emperor’s army was rotting from within. Facing off against emaciated farmers armed with farming tools, they had suffered losses at nearly a one-to-one ratio. Considering the bloodshed, calling this a victory was a stretch—it was merely the suppression of a rebellion.

Thankfully, Count Ginédien had taken command and stabilized the situation; otherwise, the uprising might have spread like wildfire to other regions.

The Count sighed as he reflected on the battle.

“This whole mess could have been resolved if the local lord and the rebel leader had simply negotiated. Adjusting the tax rate—or even halting the unchecked plunder—would have calmed the people.”

“Hmm, I’ll take that under advisement.”

The latter half of the report stated, “No significant gains or losses on our side.” Indeed, there was little to show for the campaign.

“In my view, the battle itself yielded some minor benefits for us.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The Emperor’s army has fewer soldiers now.”

“That’s true. Fewer enemies to face later is advantageous.”

“That’s not quite what I meant. This was an opportunity to cut out the rot from an army that costs more than it’s worth. When we reorganize the military, we’ll need to cull even more useless soldiers.”

Fertan spoke with the assumption that he would one day ascend to the throne. From the perspective of the late emperor’s faction, which had only modest resources, there was little gain. But looking ahead to the day he claimed the throne, the situation could be interpreted differently.

“You’re absolutely right. A complete overhaul of the military is necessary.”

The Count nodded vigorously in agreement.

Ginédien, an aging general, had personally led much of the campaign because there was no suitable commander to replace him.

As Fertan thought about the Emperor’s army returning to the capital, Solcherton, he sank into deep contemplation.

The army’s garrison was located on the outskirts of the city. If the Emperor gave the order, they could mobilize within hours—a significant threat and obstacle to Fertan’s ambitions. However, given their abysmal combat effectiveness, it wasn’t worth the risk to try and win them over.

When the decisive moment came, Fertan planned to ensure that orders wouldn’t reach the troops stationed outside the city.

“You’ve done well, Count Ginédien. Rest and recover for now. I’ll contact you later.”

“I’m not tired. More importantly, what task will you assign me?”

His enthusiasm was commendable.

“For now, nothing. You’re always under the Emperor’s watchful eye, so I can’t give you a critical role.”

“Your Highness… After coming this far, I don’t want to sit idly by and watch.”

“You’re the Minister of War and a recently victorious commander. Your movements are too conspicuous.”

The Count had already done immense service by laying the groundwork for Fertan’s rise. Though Fertan didn’t plan to involve him directly in the coup, he intended to entrust him with the task of reining in the Emperor’s chaotic forces once Fertan took the throne.

Still, seeing the old general’s disappointment made him feel a pang of guilt.

“Then, Count Ginédien, would you be willing to oversee the Emperor’s army?”

“Give me your orders. How should I handle the troops?”

“The regular soldiers are undisciplined rabble, and everyone from the junior officers to the advisors has their own agenda. They’re utterly unreliable. But if you hold your ground there, at least they won’t pose a threat to us.”

“Hmm, you’re absolutely right.”

“There’s also the possibility that soldiers, excited by their recent victory, might desert their posts. Given how disorganized they are, unforeseen incidents could arise.”

After further deliberation, Fertan revealed a plan he’d been considering.

“Could you remain with the troops until the day of the uprising? Use excuses like wrapping up the expedition or reinforcing supplies to maintain command for now.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“And since the army won’t move without the Emperor’s orders, I won’t ask you to lead an assault on the palace. However, we must prepare for contingencies. If the Emperor detects our attack and sends orders to mobilize, it could complicate things.”

The Count nodded gravely.

“I’ll be the first to receive the Emperor’s orders, so I can intercept any such mishaps.”

“Thank you, Count Ginédien.”

“Then my role is to keep the army immobilized. It’s unfortunate I won’t be on the front lines, but I’ll carry out my duties faithfully.”

Everyone seated around the meeting table was someone Fertan trusted with his life. They listened attentively as the Count accepted his assignment to maintain command within the Emperor’s army, agreeing it was a prudent decision.

Herod, their intelligence operative, was also present.

Herod, posing as an ordinary commoner, had worked as a hotel manager for some time, but his true identity was that of a fallen noble. Holding a deep grudge against the current Emperor, he had allied with Fertan over a decade ago.

Once the Count’s mission was decided, Herod spoke up cautiously.

“Your Highness, there’s something I must report.”

“Speak, Herod.”

“Rumors say there will be a parade through the streets to celebrate the victory.”

“I’ve heard that too. The city folk are quite excited about it.”

“But the Emperor’s demeanor seems different. According to spies, he’s become unusually irritable lately. He hasn’t mentioned the parade at all.”

“Irritable? How drastically has his behavior changed for it to be noticeable?”

“It’s hard to gauge the extent, but I believe we should proceed with caution. I dare to speculate that perhaps the Crown Prince’s temperament mirrors his father’s.”

Fertan’s face twisted savagely. Dealing with Leonard alone was already maddening enough; the thought of an even more powerful madman running rampant was unbearable.

Why had the Emperor’s strange nature surfaced at this critical juncture?

“This is troubling. When exactly did the Emperor’s attitude change?”

“It seems to have started when Your Highness faked your death and went into hiding.”

“So it’s because of me?”

Herod and Fertan’s gazes met in the air. Others in the meeting exchanged murmurs, sharing similar thoughts.

They had known the Emperor was no ordinary opponent. His relentless assassination attempts on Fertan, disregarding all risks, hinted at his ruthlessness.

But if the Emperor’s temperament was akin to Leonard’s, the stakes grew higher.

If he had been hiding his true nature until now, only to begin acting recklessly like a fish released into water, the imperial palace might soon become a living hell.

Having long suppressed Fertan due to questions about the legitimacy of the throne, the Emperor now had nothing left to hold back. With no need for restraint, he would likely run amok.

“People will start dying in droves.”

“……”

Herod, unable to bring himself to agree, bowed his head. In his stead, the others imagined even worse scenarios.

“The palace’s security might tighten. It’ll become more secretive, and there could be an increase in nighttime mischief.”

Fertan sighed deeply as he rested his elbows on the table.

He hoped the Emperor’s unusual behavior was nothing serious, but judging by recent events, it was clear this change couldn’t be ignored. It posed a potential threat to their plans.

A heavy atmosphere settled over the meeting room.

The situation was far from simple. The Emperor’s altered demeanor wasn’t the only issue.

With so many pressing matters to discuss during this rare gathering, none of them seemed to be going smoothly.

Throughout the prolonged meeting, the news Fertan anxiously awaited from the Rubellon Hills estate never arrived.

---

Emperor Maximilian couldn’t remember the last time he attended a meeting to oversee state affairs.

The most recent one had been a council meeting convened to postpone the Crown Prince’s wedding. Since then, he saw no need to deliberate national matters with his ministers. After Fertan’s supposed death, there was no longer any faction to check, and he no longer needed to pretend to be a benevolent ruler.

Even without his involvement, the Empire continued to function smoothly. He paid the bureaucrats who served him, so it was only fair they worked for their salaries. Nobles who sought special privileges were expected to care for their territories and worry about the nation accordingly.

Maximilian held firm beliefs about governance. He didn’t think it necessary to run around managing such a vast empire himself. 

He firmly believed that occupying the highest seat was his most important duty.

This mindset wasn’t new; several past emperors had ruled similarly. Thus, Maximilian felt justified in his approach.

Preoccupied with enjoying what he deemed his rightful privileges as the supreme ruler, Maximilian received a visit today from the Minister of Finance.

Despite the imperial decree forbidding anyone from approaching the palace unless absolutely necessary, the minister dared to defy it. From the moment of their meeting, the Emperor couldn’t suppress his irritation.

“Your Majesty, you once declared there would be no more expenditures for events...”

The finance minister nervously presented his petition.

“But this victory cannot simply be ignored. It is an opportunity to elevate Your Majesty’s prestige, and both inside and outside the palace, expectations are high.”

“Must I cater to the whims of insignificant people?”

“That’s not what I meant, but...”

“I explicitly stated that the imperial treasury would not fund frivolous dancing and revelry.”

“Then how about just a parade? A small amount of coins scattered along the route wouldn’t cost much.”

“Are you prepared to cover the expenses yourself?”

“...”

“If you can find someone to fund it, I’ll consider it. Otherwise, it’s out of the question.”

The minister was at a loss, overwhelmed by the Emperor’s drastically different attitude compared to before.

Just months ago, the Emperor had relentlessly pushed for lavish banquets under various pretexts. Opera houses hosted monthly performances, and the palace ballroom remained lit by chandeliers for countless nights.

But something had changed abruptly.

After the Emperor summoned the finance minister to declare there would be no more events, not a single performance or banquet had been held.

“Understood. We will omit the victory celebration as per Your Majesty’s wishes.”

The finance minister hung his head, pondering how to explain this to other officials and nobles.

It was impossible to justify sudden frugality after years of extravagant spending. Moreover, since the Emperor hadn’t expressed such intentions, the minister couldn’t fabricate excuses on his own.

The indifferent Emperor offered no explanation for his abrupt change in behavior.

“Oh, and...”

As the finance minister prepared to leave, the Emperor stopped him.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“We must raise taxes. The imperial finances are in disarray, aren’t they? We need to fill the void.”

“Raise... taxes?”

The Emperor glanced at him, his gaze implying the request should have been obvious.

“Prepare a detailed plan specifying when and by how much we’ll increase them.”

“T-that...”

“Is there a problem?”

“Which tax categories do you wish to raise? National finances are interconnected, so increases require justification and must target sectors with surplus capacity...”

“That’s your job—to determine the categories and calculate the amounts.”

Sweat poured down the minister’s back. He had no idea how to respond to the Emperor’s unreasonable demands.

“Just provide me with the figures. Once the treasury is replenished, that’s all that matters.”

Though the Emperor surely understood the workings of the Empire, he stubbornly insisted on impractical measures. His indifference was staggering. The finance minister felt dizzy from the absurdity of the situation.

Even if taxes were forcibly raised, basic explanations were still required for the nobles and citizens who would pay them. Desperate to grasp the Emperor’s intentions, the minister pressed further.

“I will follow Your Majesty’s orders. Should I convey that the purpose is to enrich the nation’s finances?”

The Emperor’s expression briefly twisted. He furrowed his brow, then relaxed it.

“Enrichment?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. To gather opinions at the council meeting, I need to understand your intentions clearly.”

Since the Emperor didn’t attend the council meetings, Crown Prince Leonard held most of the decision-making power. If the minister were to propose a tax increase, he’d need to explain it to Leonard.

From the Emperor’s reaction, it was evident he hadn’t informed the Crown Prince either.

While the finance minister sweated profusely, the Emperor responded with cold sarcasm.

“There’s merit in your words. Let’s aim for prosperity.”

“Pardon? What do you mean?”

“The palace lake has bothered me for some time. It’s too narrow for boating, don’t you think? With increased revenue, we could expand it.”

The minister turned pale, but the Emperor gazed into the air, ignoring his reaction.

“Twice its current size should suffice.”

“You mean... construction?”

“The servants complain so much that once the project is complete, we might host a boating banquet. Though the palace and lake exist for my enjoyment, I’ll show some generosity.”

Mocking the earlier suggestion of a victory banquet, the Emperor left the minister speechless.

Expanding the lake would cost astronomical sums. Yet the Emperor casually mentioned it as though he’d just thought of it—surely aware of the staggering budget required.

Refusing a victory banquet could have been interpreted as an effort to reduce waste, but now it seemed otherwise. Promoting such an extravagant construction project revealed no intention of conserving imperial finances.

Could it be that the Emperor intended to squander the wealth of the Empire solely for his personal satisfaction?

Did he not care what happened to the Empire?

The more the finance minister speculated about the Emperor’s hidden motives, the more dire the scenarios became. His knees trembled as he backed away, fearing the worst.

---

A commotion swept through Rubellon Hills like a band of marauders passing through.

“Leave behind whatever hasn’t been packed yet. Eleanor, get into the carriage quickly.”

Leonard, wearing a newly replaced mask, gave chilling instructions in a sharp tone. His voice, though not loud, was piercing enough to make anyone’s nerves stand on end.

After the violent altercation in the parlor, Leonard kept his distance from Eleanor.

Because Eleanor had started coughing violently.

After his rampage left Liam nearly unconscious, Leonard forcibly dragged her out. Eleanor screamed and struggled with all her might to break free. Her breathing grew ragged, irritating her lungs further and triggering a loud, hacking cough.

Her condition bore all the hallmarks of an advanced pulmonary illness. She coughed so violently it seemed she might suffocate. For a while, her symptoms had been subdued, leading those around her to believe she was on the mend—but this episode proved otherwise.

Leonard scowled deeply and had no choice but to let her go. Instead of approaching her, he backed away, clearly afraid of catching whatever she had.

“You’re too slow, Eleanor. Do you need help getting into the carriage?”

At his signal, one of the Crown Prince’s guards rushed over. The guard was quick-witted, understanding Leonard’s intent perfectly. Rather than treating Eleanor kindly, he handled her roughly, as if she were a criminal. After shoving her into the carriage and slamming the door shut, he locked it from the outside.

Eleanor realized the bolt was being drawn across. Though she had no intention of jumping from the moving carriage, she understood why Leonard would take such precautions—his bizarre personality made it unsurprising.

Through the small window, she called out desperately.

“Your Highness, even in a hurry, I’d like my maid to accompany me.”

Leonard nodded, and Evelyn was unceremoniously shoved into the carriage. Seizing the moment, Eleanor made another request.

“My doctor must come too. And Liam—the guard who was with me in the parlor earlier.”

With evident annoyance, Leonard frowned through the window and gave a curt order to the soldiers.

Fortunately, Eleanor’s personal physician was allowed to board another carriage trailing behind. But Liam was nowhere to be seen.

“What about Liam?”

“Leave him behind.”

“Your Highness, my guard needs urgent treatment. Please allow him to ride with us for now...”

“Enough. Let’s depart.”

Clearly displeased with Liam, Leonard dismissed her plea and strode off to his own carriage.

Eleanor’s heart sank at the thought of leaving behind Liam, who had been brutally beaten. Would he receive proper care? Would the guards mistreat him further?

A convoy of carriages set off in succession.

Eleanor’s carriage was positioned in the middle of the procession. They departed late in the evening and traveled through the night, stopping only briefly to grab some food and rest.

During these short breaks, she received medical attention from her doctor, who checked her condition inside the carriage.

The atmosphere was somber; neither Evelyn nor the doctor spoke. Outside, preparations were already underway to resume the journey.

From afar, Leonard’s sharp voice carried.

“Why are you dawdling? Hurry up and get moving!”

He had left the palace early that morning, met with Eleanor, and was now returning directly to his residence.

In Leonard’s eyes, Rubellon Hills was a wretched place. He chose to return to the palace rather than spend the night there, despite the fatigue. It was late, and under Leonard’s relentless urging, everyone hastily mounted their horses or climbed into their carriages.

Eleanor’s doctor did the same, checking her condition briefly before returning to another carriage.

The surroundings were chaotic.

Small candles were lit, then extinguished as departure time approached. Soon after, the doctor exited the carriage.

As the convoy resumed its journey, no one noticed the subtle change that occurred inside Eleanor’s locked carriage. Silence filled the confined space, broken only by the creaking of the wheels. Across from her, Evelyn sat quietly, the tension palpable.

In Eleanor’s hand was a small vial, no larger than a finger joint.

The convoy traveled for hours more. The return journey was tedious and exhausting.

Taking advantage of the lack of attention, Eleanor quickly tipped the contents of the vial into her mouth. She handed the empty bottle to Evelyn, who tremblingly tucked it deep into her clothing. The flush of fear on Evelyn’s face was hidden in the darkness.

It happened in an instant. There was no indication from outside that anything unusual had occurred before or after she took the medicine.

By morning, the group finally arrived at the Crown Prince’s residence.

Seeing Eleanor’s rapidly deteriorating condition, Leonard took several steps back.

“Eleanor, rest easy. Stay here and recuperate until you’re fully recovered.”

“I’m afraid you might catch it too, Your Highness.”

“I’m a bit worried about that myself, but I can’t leave you alone, can I?”

Remembering how fiercely she had argued that she deserved a lover too, Eleanor couldn’t bring herself to ask to be sent home.

This was her battle. She had to fight Leonard, and even if she couldn’t win, she needed to hold on until Fertan could execute his next plan.

“What can I possibly do in my condition?”

He sneered coldly.

“Who would’ve thought the supposedly modest you would spread your legs for another man? Who knows what other betrayals you have planned?”

Caught off guard, Eleanor couldn’t respond immediately. Seeing her flustered reaction, Leonard’s expression hardened further.

“So, you and this Adam fellow are quite close, aren’t you?”

“N-no, that’s not true.”

“Don’t lie. Perhaps he’s skilled in bed—I wouldn’t mind experiencing that myself.”

“…”

“I’ll assign additional doctors from the palace. If your condition improves, I look forward to testing those rumored skills.”

His gaze slithered over her like a snake, cold and wet, traveling from her lower body to her chest and face.

After Leonard left, the guards stationed at the Crown Prince’s residence escorted her to a guest room. Though not as rough as during the journey, their stiff demeanor and curt actions bordered on rudeness. Their behavior was hardly appropriate for someone soon to become the Crown Princess.

The audacity of mere palace guards, emboldened by Leonard’s protection, was glaringly obvious.

The atmosphere, previously unnoticed, now felt menacing.

Eleanor was effectively imprisoned in her room, ostensibly to prevent contagion.

Servants entered and exited wearing handkerchiefs over their mouths and noses, attending to her materially lavish needs but nothing more. Whether warned beforehand or simply rude like the guards, they were all taciturn, responding only to direct questions without a trace of warmth.

Evelyn clung to Eleanor in fear. Still, having at least one person she could trust by her side was a relief.

Later, her personal physician visited briefly. Under the watchful eye of the Crown Prince’s attendants, the examination proceeded.

“Lady Eleanor, the journey back to the palace seems to have worsened your condition.”

“It feels harder to breathe.”

“I’ll adjust your medication. Please call if you need anything.”

The details of the examination were promptly reported to Leonard.

She was trapped in a gilded cage. Whether Leonard informed the Emperor of her situation or kept it hidden remained unclear. Like a princess locked in a tower, she was isolated, with no one coming to rescue her.

The next day, a royal physician visited, bringing various diagnostic tools and examining her thoroughly. His expertise far surpassed that of the city’s renowned doctors.

Would her feigned illness be discovered? That possibility loomed large in her mind.

Her prince faced too many obstacles to reach her now.

She imagined a dramatic uprising where Fertan burst through her locked door to save her. But realizing how unrealistic that fantasy was, she shook it off almost immediately. How could such a meticulously planned operation unfold so hastily?

What happened here was her responsibility. She had to handle it herself.

---

Though she had steeled herself, Eleanor was deeply shocked when Edwin arrived.

Edwin, guided by an attendant, entered through the locked door without asking about her well-being and instead glared at Evelyn.

He pointed at Evelyn to the guard behind him.

“Take her away.”

The guard strode forward and grabbed Evelyn’s arm roughly. A cry escaped her lips.

“What are you doing, Brother?”

His behavior was excessively brutal, as if he didn’t care whether her arm might break.

“His Highness wishes to interrogate you personally.”

“Interrogate? If he has questions, he could simply summon me. Why resort to such violence?”

Despite Eleanor’s stern protest, the guard’s rough treatment did not abate.

Evelyn was dragged out crying and screaming.

“Brother, please stop this!”

“The Crown Prince is extremely displeased. Now is not the time to worry about a mere maid. I also have much to discuss with you.”

After dismissing everyone else, Edwin stood coldly before Eleanor once they were alone. He made no effort to sit and converse calmly, instead looming over her with an oppressive gaze.

“I’ve heard everything.”

So it was about that. Eleanor met his stare defiantly, refusing to cower.

“Yes, that’s what happened.”

“Do you even realize the magnitude of your mistake? To consort with another man just before your marriage to the Crown Prince—how can you justify such behavior?”

“His Highness keeps mistresses too, and he openly admitted it himself. Why must I be held to a higher standard?”

Edwin sighed in exasperation.

“How dare you compare yourself to His Highness?”

“No, I’ve already compromised greatly.”

“What compromise? You speak nonsense.”

“Brother, do you know about His Highness’s... peculiar tastes? I’ve accepted them and prepared myself to become his wife. Surely, I deserve some consideration in return?”

Edwin turned his head slightly but soon fixed her with an even colder glare.

“I know.”

So it was true. The rumors Eleanor had heard likely reached Edwin as well.

“Then surely you understand my actions aren’t as grievous as they seem. Regardless, I will fulfill my duties as Crown Princess dutifully.”

“How can you spout such absurdities? You are the daughter of a duchy, and he is the Crown Prince—a figure to be revered.”

“I will revere him, and when the time comes, I will bear his heirs.”

Even as she spoke firmly, Edwin seemed to struggle for words.

The sound of his shoes pacing across the room—click, click—grated on her nerves. His anger was palpable. Intent on lecturing his sister, he grew increasingly frustrated as her sharp responses undermined his authority.

“No matter how much you try to justify yourself, it won’t help.”

“…?”

“Your loyal maid will suffer greatly. And the knight who shielded you with his body at the retreat—he’s probably dead by now.”

“What? What do you mean, dead?”

Liam was dead?

Her head spun, and she slumped weakly against the back of her chair, overwhelmed by dizziness. The man she had only recently come to trust, the one she’d confided in about finding a protector who wouldn’t ask for payment—it was unbearable to think she had caused his death.

“Why? What crime did he commit?”

“He failed to report your grave mistake to me. Didn’t he accompany you to that hotel?”

“He knew nothing! Absolutely nothing!”

“Ignorance is still a crime.”

The more Eleanor faltered, the more emboldened Edwin became. Arms crossed like a drill instructor berating a new recruit, he relentlessly condemned her.

He repeated endlessly how grave her sins were, hammering the accusations into her mind regardless of whether she acknowledged them.

“Your body does not belong to you. Don’t you owe me repayment for all I’ve done to bring you this far?”

Not a shred of brotherly affection could be felt in their conversation.

With twelve years between them, there had never been much warmth in their sibling relationship. Edwin viewed her as a tool to elevate the family’s status. Even in her teenage years, Eleanor saw him less as family and more as a contractual obligation.

The finest environment, education, and expensive dresses—all were investments Edwin made for himself, not for her.

In return, Eleanor had to prove her worth. With no parents to care for her, and an emotionally detached brother, she understood she had to navigate life cleverly to secure her place.

But she hadn’t anticipated things would escalate to this degree.

To see her brother abandon her to Leonard’s clutches without a hint of compassion—only cold disdain—was devastating.

“For now, you’ll stay here.”

Eleanor, who rarely flinched even in dire situations, trembled visibly this time. Was her brother leaving her at Leonard’s mercy? She dreaded what Leonard might do to her.

“Brother, I want to go home. This place terrifies me.”

“The palace is where you must live eventually. Overcome your fear and win His Highness’s favor.”

“But I can’t even step outside this room. I’m imprisoned.”

Edwin’s domineering attitude remained unchanged.

“The only way out is to soothe His Highness’s temper.”

“Brother…”

“Do you understand? Serve His Highness wholeheartedly.”

Only after hearing these words repeatedly did Eleanor grasp their full meaning.

Leonard wanted her to submit to him physically.

Though she heard the cruel implication clearly, her mind struggled to accept it. No matter how estranged they were, this demand felt unbearably harsh. Edwin showed no pity, pushing her toward Leonard’s bedchamber as though discarding a tool.

It was a stark reminder that she was nothing more than a pawn to her brother. Though she had never expected familial love from him, being so callously abandoned was unexpected.

“Brother, I…”

She couldn’t bring herself to say she wanted to leave. She knew Edwin would never humble himself before Leonard for her sake.

“I…”

She couldn’t voice her hatred for Leonard either. Doing so would only invite Edwin’s scornful sneer—a look she could vividly imagine without seeing it.

As a violent coughing fit seized her, Edwin frowned, covering his mouth with his sleeve and stepping further away.

Perhaps because her lung condition showed no improvement since before her retreat, he clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Still, be grateful His Highness cherishes you. Despite everything, he insists on curing your illness before proceeding with the marriage.”

Without a maid to tend to her, she suppressed her coughs with a handkerchief, wondering what exactly she should feel grateful for. Likely, it was merely that her situation didn’t hinder Edwin’s ambitions.

Though she tried not to resent him for raising her under his shadow, negative emotions welled up uncontrollably from deep within.

After Edwin left, the absence of familial affection weighed heavily on her.

Several maids replaced Evelyn, but they were all enemies in disguise. Given the guards’ behavior and the courtiers’ disdain for the future Crown Princess, why would the maids be any different? After receiving the bare minimum of service, she dismissed them.

Thoughts of Evelyn, dragged away like a criminal, haunted her. She feared the girl might be suffering horribly.

Meanwhile, earlier, the Crown Prince’s attendant had reported every detail of Eleanor’s actions to Leonard, including Edwin’s persuasion for her to stay and the arrangements for those allowed near her.

“And you’ve ensured only trustworthy people are assigned to her?”

Leonard asked sharply.

“Of course. I’ve excluded anyone naive. Those who openly admired Lady Eleanor have been barred from approaching her.”

“You must keep a close eye on her. Eleanor has quietly amassed some popularity. Someone might take pity on her and try to help.”

“I’ll be vigilant.”

Many people felt fondness for Eleanor, so there was a risk that her confinement would stir sympathy. Even under the Crown Prince’s orders, misplaced compassion could lead to trouble—someone might secretly assist her or spread rumors.

Thus, Leonard had only assigned those with similarly harsh dispositions to her quarters.

“However, Your Highness, what will you tell His Majesty?”

The attendant cautiously gauged his reaction.

“For now, I won’t say anything. But since His Majesty already knows how much I cherish Eleanor, if I mention it later, he likely won’t reprimand me too harshly.”

Leonard had previously expressed his desire to keep Eleanor close despite her illness during council meetings. It was no secret within the palace that he was utterly infatuated with her.

Claiming he couldn’t bear being apart from her and had followed her to the retreat, then brought her back out of longing, would serve as sufficient justification.

“Yes, I’ll ensure everyone keeps their mouths shut.”

As long as rumors of her imprisonment and mistreatment didn’t spread, there was little risk of criticism.

Who could know what transpired behind locked doors? Even if Leonard were to force himself upon her, such acts would never see the light of day unless someone thoroughly investigated his palace.

---

Thin clouds partially obscured the moon, casting faint shadows across the night.

A dimly lit night suited Eleanor’s somber mood far better than one bathed in brightness.

Sleep eluded her. How could it not?

“Will Leonard barge in tomorrow? Or the day after?”

She could already sense that each passing day here would feel like an eternity.

If he delayed visiting her, it would only be out of fear of catching her illness. While most healthy individuals weren’t overly cautious around those with lung ailments, Leonard, who treated his body like gold, always wore two layers of masks.

Perhaps he was busy torturing the man she claimed as her lover. She hoped this distraction would divide his attention.

It was clear Leonard had intended to bring her back from Rubellon Hills all along. His aggressive demeanor from the start, and the oppressive behavior of his guards, hinted at his resolve.

“At least I gave him a good shock when I revealed my supposed lover.”

She had planned to rattle him completely by claiming another man, but while Leonard seemed enraged, it wasn’t enough to fully vent her pent-up frustration.

I should have gone even harder. Since this relationship is doomed anyway, why hold back?

Recalling the chaos of that confrontation briefly lifted the corners of her lips, softening her otherwise gloomy expression.

But thoughts of Liam soon dragged her spirits down again. Was he really dead? He hadn’t done anything wrong—Leonard had attacked him unprovoked. There was no justifiable reason to punish him so severely.

“I wish I could check if Liam is safe, but...”

In her current situation, she couldn’t demand his return.

Evelyn’s arrest-like removal also weighed heavily on her mind. Had she endured harsh treatment after being dragged away?

Worry piled upon worry.

Her thoughts spiraled into a dense fog, sinking into despair. Her pacing slowed until her feet dragged across the floor. The weight of those sacrificed because of her pressed hard against her heart.

Her shoulders slumped, causing her nightgown to slip off one side.

Her thoughts shifted inward. How could she possibly fight Leonard?

Could she endure this?

She knew she couldn’t overpower him physically.

Since he desired intimacy, there was no longer any excuse to refuse him. Her earlier argument—that conceiving before marriage would bring shame—now rang hollow, exposed as a flimsy lie.

She imagined herself crying out beneath him, repulsed by his touch. His snake-like gaze roving over her body made her want to die. If she were forced to bear his child... perhaps she’d bite her tongue in that moment.

His violent tendencies terrified her. At Rubellon Hills, he had tried to strangle her and mercilessly beaten Liam. If he restrained himself now because they weren’t yet married, what horrors awaited her in the future?

She couldn’t fathom it. Having neither committed nor witnessed such violence herself, she found it hard to imagine.

The memory of Leonard choking her resurfaced. Similar brutality could easily occur in the bedroom.

“Absolutely… no. Never.”

The mere thought of what lay ahead filled her with terror. The hairs on her neck stood on end.

The room felt suffocating.

Even with her gown’s neckline wide open, breathing was difficult.

Staggering steps led her to the window. Though usually locked like the door, the summer heat and her persistent complaints had convinced them to leave it slightly ajar.

Eleanor’s room was on the third floor, equivalent to the sixth in height due to the grand hall below and high ceilings throughout. Outside, the garden trees and fences appeared as dark masses.

Leaning out, she took deep breaths. The late-summer breeze gently lifted her loose hair.

The cool night air eased her troubled thoughts slightly.

Clouds drifted past the moon, revealing its pale glow, which illuminated her face in ghostly light.

What would happen if she jumped from here?

The attendants likely never imagined she’d attempt suicide, hence leaving the window accessible.

With guards stationed nearby, escape was impossible. And even if she fled, where would she go? Sheltered and refined Eleanor had no chance of navigating beyond the palace grounds. She couldn’t fake her death like Fertan.

Fixated on the moon, half-hidden by clouds, she stared vacantly upward.

Crickets chirped nearby.

Czrr, czrrr...

Her gaze instinctively dropped from the moon to the space below the window. Though she couldn’t see the noisy insects in the dark, her eyes wandered aimlessly.

Between the tightly spaced marble railings, a large foreign object clung to the wall. Twice her size, it was a black mass.

What on earth was that?

Frowning, Eleanor focused to discern its shape. Could it be an assassin targeting her? A rival house coveting the position of Crown Princess?

The dark form clung to the outer wall like a monkey, steadying itself against the decorative molding between floors.

The intruder’s piercing blue eyes met hers.

A barely audible whisper reached her ears.

“Eleanor!”

It was him. The rogue of the night, Fertan.

The man she had resolved to serve as her lord—now absurdly scaling the palace walls like some bizarre creature of the night.

He’s insane. Truly. What is he doing climbing the walls here?

Though she wanted to unleash a torrent of curses, the situation was far too precarious. She couldn’t just leave him out there; who knew when the guards might pass by?

Leaning her waist against the windowsill, Eleanor stretched her body as far as it would go. She first tested whether her hand could reach him, but it fell far short.

His voice, soft and intimate like a lover’s whisper, carried through the darkness.

“You’ll fall if you’re not careful, Eleanor. Just stay inside. I’ll handle the rest.”

“Be careful. The guards will be here soon.”

Even in the dim moonlight, his figure stood out clearly to her. Fertan grinned broadly as he tilted his head up toward her.

How can he smile at a time like this? Hurry up and either climb up or get down!

“I’ve already checked their patrol schedule roughly.”

And with that, he winked one eye.

“Ha...”

This is maddening.

Please, no more of this carefree act. Move faster.

I already know how handsome your features are—you don’t need to flirt with me right now.

Though she wanted to scream at him, she clamped her mouth shut tightly with her palm. Even his whispers alone were enough to make her fear being overheard. At the very least, she needed to keep her own voice down.

Instead of just urging him on, she racked her brain for ways to help. She needed something he could grab onto to pull himself up. Quickly retreating into the room, she rolled up a blanket diagonally into a rope-like shape.

“Fertan, grab this.”

As she lowered the edge of the blanket, he flinched in alarm.

“I appreciate the gesture, but could you put that away and step back?”

She couldn’t understand why he refused to grab it. Of course, she had never done anything like this before.

Naturally, she didn’t realize that an unsecured blanket wouldn’t support Fertan’s weight—it might tear under his weight, and her frail strength wouldn’t be enough to pull him up even if it held.

While she anxiously watched, Fertan carefully scaled the wall until he reached the railing of the window where she was trapped. His four fingers gripped the frame firmly, astonishingly so.

The next moment happened in a flash. As soon as his hands appeared over the railing, his entire body vaulted upward.

A dark, bear-like shadow suddenly blotted out the moonlight, filling the pale space of her windowsill.

With swift agility, he rolled into the room and landed safely. Like a knight swearing fealty, he knelt on one knee and bowed his head.

“You’re greeting me so enthusiastically, it’s bringing tears to my eyes. Or wait—I’m already crying.”

Eleanor’s own eyes were brimming with moisture.

“Fertan.”

She had been utterly shocked by his unexpected antics, her heart nearly stopping for a brief moment as she feared for his safety.

But as the faint moonlight illuminated his sleek, mischievous face, her clenched heart sank completely. 

And she was astonished anew—not just by his actions, but by the realization that her taste in men leaned toward reckless fools who joked even in moments of crisis. The frivolous grin he flashed as he lifted his head stirred something deep within her.

Nothing made the gravity of the situation heavier than Fertan’s casual demeanor. Despite risking his life to climb through the window, he shrugged as though this were nothing, exhaling lightly as if he’d merely hopped over a small ditch.

“How was that? Don’t you think my moves were pretty nimble?”

What kind of place is this to be climbing through windows? Though she wanted to scold him, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Overwhelmed by emotion, her restless feet finally found their target, leaping straight toward him.

“Ah, Elie.”

She tackled him just as he was about to stand.

“You idiotic fool.”

Her arms flailed weakly like the wings of a plucked bird, but the shoulders of Fertan, now securely holding her, felt solid and reassuring—enough to melt away all her tension.

The impact of her leap nearly sent Fertan sprawling onto his backside.

Careful not to let the sound echo into the next room, he rolled them both over. Cradling Eleanor, he spun once before gently lowering her to the bedroom floor.

Lying quietly on the ground, he cradled her lightly above him, his hands encircling her waist.

“Wow, such an enthusiastic welcome... Did I ever mention how much I love it?”

Her position, straddling his lower abdomen, mirrored an unmistakable sex pose.

Fertan’s hand began to stroke the curve of her hips.

One hand steadied her waist while the other ventured toward her buttocks. A subtle stirring began in his lower body.

“No, wait a minute!”

Is this really what he thinks about the moment they meet? Could he possibly be aroused in this situation?

She began to seriously doubt whether there was something wrong with Fertan’s libido trigger.

She had simply rushed into his arms out of pure gratitude. Her chest felt tight, overwhelmed by joy that defied description. The fact that Fertan had come to her, breaking into this locked room, filled her with indescribable happiness.

And yet, this man interpreted her emotional fulfillment as sexual desire.

“Hey, stop... Take your hands off me.”

“Just a moment. Let me hold you a bit longer.”

He pulled her closer, pressing her shoulder blades firmly against him.

Her elbows buckled under the force, and her face buried itself into the rock-solid groove of his chest.

Without giving her any chance to escape, Fertan wrapped his limbs around her like a snake, his strong hands sliding deliberately from her nape down her spine.

It was suffocating. She pounded her fists weakly against his chest.

But the net of his embrace refused to loosen.

“Just stay still. Let me hold you.”

His large palm covered the back of her head, gently patting and stroking her hair. Through the ear pressed against his chest, she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

The clear, resonant vibrations echoed deeply. The regular, rhythmic pumping neither fast nor slow.

Gradually, her squirming subsided.

Straddling him, Eleanor surrendered herself completely to the moment.

A warmth slightly warmer than her own body enveloped her. It felt so comforting and satisfying that all thoughts of danger or crisis were pushed aside. For now, she simply basked in the pleasure of this moment.

Listening to the soothing beat of his heart, she realized something: she had been waiting for him. Though it was a forbidden hope, deep down, she had wished for Fertan to come rescue her, like a prince saving a princess trapped in a tower.

“I was worried about you, Eleanor.”

“...Yeah.”

Her tense body relaxed. The fists that had struck him moments ago now clung to his clothes like a child seeking comfort.

“I couldn’t do anything, fearing you might suffer or worse...”

“I fought fiercely with Leonard, but I’m still safe.”

“I feel pathetic for letting you end up in such a dire situation...”

She didn’t want to hear his self-reproach. Eleanor quickly cut him off.

“What are you talking about? This has always been my place. Leonard’s obsession with me isn’t new.”

“Still, I wish there had been a better way to protect you.”

Now she understood. Why Fertan had insisted she feign illness to delay the wedding.

It was because he wanted her for himself.

“You already helped once. You delayed the wedding by half a year.”

While part of his plan may have served strategic purposes, it was clear that most of it stemmed from his desire for her. The loud, unmistakable beat of his heart confirmed it.

The hand stroking her hair felt tender.

Though she still didn’t fully understand Fertan’s intentions, she somehow grasped the meaning behind this touch.

Infiltrating the palace, surrounded by hundreds of guards, and sneaking into one of the most heavily guarded areas—the Crown Prince’s residence—was a life-risking endeavor. Scaling the walls so brazenly was no less perilous.

No matter how shamelessly confident Fertan acted, this time he had gone too far. It wasn’t something to be praised.

“Fertan...”

Yet, despite knowing it was wrong, Eleanor couldn’t bring herself to scold him.

She should have pointed out his recklessness, item by item, but instead, she buried her face against his chest without hesitation.

She inwardly berated herself for her selfishness. She cursed herself for failing to reprimand Fertan and instead being overwhelmed with gratitude at his arrival.

Her tears soaked into his dark clothing, leaving faint smudges where droplets had spread.

“Why did you go this far? This is going to cause trouble.”

She noticed the tools he’d used to scale the wall: a rope, gloves, several wedges, and clips. Judging by the lack of other shadows nearby, it seemed he had infiltrated alone. The sheer recklessness of his actions hit her anew.

Fertan wasn’t some grand hero. He didn’t possess extraordinary strength.

Every day, he faced attacks that put his life in danger, his body riddled with scars and fresh wounds that never seemed to heal. It was painfully obvious how hard it was for him just to survive each passing day.

That made it all the more heartbreaking. He had risked his life again—for her.

He pressed her firmly against his racing heart.

“Can’t you just be happy I’m here?”

The damp patch on his chest grew as she stubbornly buried her face there.

She wanted to scold herself for not being able to criticize Fertan, for being moved by his appearance instead.

“I shouldn’t… I can’t believe I’m crying over this. You shouldn’t have done such a reckless thing.”

But deep down, she knew she couldn’t blame him entirely. His arrival had stirred something profound within her—a mix of relief, longing, and guilt.

“You’re right... I shouldn’t have come like this. But I couldn’t leave you here alone.”

His voice softened, tinged with regret. Yet, even as he spoke, his hands continued to cradle her protectively.

Eleanor tried to pull herself together. She wiped her tears on his sleeve before finally lifting her head.

He was smirking softly, his features relaxed yet undeniably sensual. The curve of his eyelids and the plumpness beneath them exuded an almost indecent allure.

Was he looking down at her with lustful intent? Or was it her own mind that craved something more carnal than noble gratitude? As her gaze swept over his striking features, her desire grew stronger.

Her fingers brushed lightly against the smooth curve of his earlobe, feeling the soft, fleshy texture of his ear. It felt strangely erotic.

And then it dawned on her—perhaps the problem wasn’t him. It was her.

“Elie...”

At some point, Fertan had started calling her by this shortened name.

“Yes?”

“If I said I wanted to fuck you right now, would that make me... a crazy bastard?”

With a wry chuckle, Fertan sat up, pulling her onto his lap. She could feel the unmistakable hardness pressing against her thigh. Yet, he seemed content simply holding her close, his body molding hers against his.

“If you hadn’t said that, I might’ve been offended,” she murmured.

“What?”

“It would hurt my pride if I were the only one falling for you.”

His hand cupped her chin, tilting her face upward until their eyes locked.

Like a dream, his lips hovered teasingly near hers, brushing lightly against the corners of her mouth.

“Well, lucky for you, I don’t have much pride left.”

Starting from the corner of her lips, his thumb traced the outline of her lower lip, his warm breath mingling with hers. Slowly, deliberately, he licked at her lips, his tongue slipping between them.

“Just thinking about you makes me want to spill myself. Even after putting you through all this, I can’t control myself. My cock’s already hard for you.”

It was hard to understand what he meant—was he praising her or lamenting his lack of self-control?

But Eleanor, too, found herself focusing solely on the moment, ignoring the lurking dangers around them.

The rigid column between her legs throbbed insistently, straining against layers of fabric as if desperate to break free. Despite knowing they couldn’t act on their desires, the tension between them was palpable.

No, this isn’t right.

Her last shred of rationality clung desperately to her.

She reminded herself not to lose sight of reality—not yet.

“Haa...”

Summoning every ounce of willpower, she pushed him away. Though their lips had barely touched, the kiss had ignited sensations far beyond its simplicity. Reluctantly, she pulled back, breaking eye contact.

Fertan’s pupils were dilated, flickering like embers. His lips, swollen from biting them too hard, begged for attention. The sharp ridge of his nose mirrored the stiffness between her legs.

Only after drawing blood from his bitten lips did he finally speak, regaining a sliver of composure.

“Eleanor, I want to take you away from here... but I can’t.”

Of course, she knew it was impossible. How could they escape this place?

Even if Fertan managed to scale the walls again, there was no way she could follow suit. And even if, by some miracle, they evaded the countless guards and fled the palace grounds, what then? Her only option would be to disappear completely, hiding in some decrepit safe house while the rebellion unfolded without her.

Eleanor couldn’t afford to forget her position. As the daughter of a prestigious duchy, the soon-to-be Crown Princess, and someone who could still aid Fertan, she had responsibilities that couldn’t be abandoned.

There was no room for distraction. Clenching her teeth, she steeled herself for what lay ahead.

“Where would I even go? This is my battlefield.”

Forcing a smile despite the heaviness in her heart, she met his gaze.

She was terrified of Leonard—or as Fertan called him, “that bastard.” Who knew what horrors he might inflict upon her?

Her earlier assumption that Leonard might treat her differently because of her status now seemed naive. After being imprisoned without cause, she braced herself for even worse atrocities to come.

Still, Eleanor kept smiling, refusing to let despair show.

It was her way of clinging to hope—and his.

“Thank you so much for coming. This is enough... Please, don’t do anything reckless from now on.”

“Elie...”

“You need to succeed. Only then can I survive. I truly, desperately don’t want to become Leonard’s.”

The warmth of his hand on her back comforted her. When she fought fiercely with Leonard, her coughing fits returned with a vengeance, making her seem genuinely ill. But with Fertan, her breathing steadied, and the gentle rhythm of his touch spread soothing warmth throughout her body.

The summer night felt unusually short.

They hadn’t exchanged many words, yet dawn was fast approaching. To avoid the guards’ patrols, Fertan needed to leave soon.

There was little time for lingering. With no certainty of when—or if—they’d meet again, they shared critical updates.

Fertan explained how he had met with Count Ginédien and devised a plan to further immobilize the Emperor’s forces. Adam, her fake lover, and Herod, their informant, were safely in hiding.

Eleanor, in turn, recounted the major events that had transpired. Evelyn had been dragged away under grim circumstances, and Liam might be dead. Thinking of Liam made her heart ache.

She also told him about meeting Edwin.

Edwin’s coldness had deeply wounded her. When he suggested she submit to Leonard, it felt like a betrayal—was he truly her brother?

“Edwin told me to stay here. He has no intention of helping me escape.”

Fertan listened silently, his hand continuing to stroke her back as he gazed at her thoughtfully.

“Eleanor.”

His expression revealed hesitation.

“There’s something difficult I need to say... Be careful of Edwin.”

His cautious tone indicated how much he had struggled with this revelation. After saying those words, he fell silent once more.

“Be careful of my brother?”

This was unexpected.

“Why? Suddenly?”

She realized now how much thought Fertan had given to this. Though Edwin was her family, Fertan had always treated him as just another of the Emperor’s pawns. Clearly, there was more to his caution than she had realized.

Fertan’s lips tightened as he carefully gauged her reaction. His gaze was steady, deliberate.

“Because he’s your blood relative, it’s hard for me to say this...”

Perhaps it was because of the occasional chill she had felt. There was no real familial affection between her and her younger brother—it was more like he saw their relationship as a means to an end, something cold and utilitarian.

Still, Eleanor couldn’t bring herself to immediately unload her frustrations about her brother onto Fertan. Her deeply ingrained habit of never speaking ill of family—something she’d adhered to all her life—held her back. It wasn’t just that they weren’t close as siblings; their relationship had devolved into nothing more than a business arrangement, which made her feel ashamed.

“Did something happen with Brother?”

I said nothing, but pressed Fertan for answers.

“Well…,”

He hesitated. And understandably so. No matter how you looked at it, Edwin was different from other people.

Ever since childhood, Edwin had been Eleanor’s protector, providing unwavering support that most would envy. To an outsider, their sibling bond might seem special, even deeply affectionate. At the very least, one might assume he played the role of a father figure.

But deep down, Eleanor could never quite see Edwin as a father. Their relationship was closer to a transactional one, driven by status and money.

“If Edwin weren’t your family, I would’ve told you everything much sooner. But even now, I’m still unsure.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying at all. Is Brother planning something bad? Could it be another treasonous plot?”

Fertan shook his head.

“For now, just remember this: Edwin is not a good person. You must always be cautious around him.”

If only Fertan had elaborated a little more, Eleanor might have finally voiced the suspicions she’d harbored in silence.

But his vague warning left her unable to say anything further. Complaining about her family in front of him, who was so sparing with his words, would have only made her look petty.

Admitting that she’d known all along Edwin wasn’t a good person made her feel like an ungrateful little sister.

In the midst of her confusion, she heard movement outside the door.

It sounded like the night patrol guards. Heavy, rhythmic footsteps approached her locked room in a group.

‘Fertan.’

By the time she whispered his name, he was already preparing to disappear. He leapt out through the window he’d entered, his large, dark silhouette quickly swallowed by the night.

There was no time to look around and see where he’d gone. Eleanor hurriedly lay down on the bed and pretended to sleep.

The guards knocked on the maid’s adjacent room. After some murmured conversation, the lock on Eleanor’s door was undone.

Why were they opening the door?

Eleanor’s heart pounded wildly. With her eyes closed and lying perfectly still, she could only judge what was happening by sound.

One of the maids tiptoed in, moving cautiously. She circled the spacious room and then approached the bed. From the pause in movement, it seemed she was pulling back the curtains to check inside.

A tense silence followed.

Where could Fertan have hidden? Was he still clinging to the other side of the window? If the maid looked out, he’d be spotted immediately.

Or perhaps he was already making his escape. What if she caught sight of his retreating figure while he crossed the open courtyard? There was nowhere to hide in that wide, empty space.

Eleanor lay there, rigid as a corpse, her insides twisting with anxiety. She tried to steady her breathing, masking her pale face in the shadows and keeping her breaths as quiet as possible.

After what felt like an eternity, the maid’s presence gradually faded. Thankfully, it seemed she was leaving without incident.

From the hallway, Eleanor could hear the faint murmur of the guards and the maid talking. Her room was large enough that their voices came through intermittently.

“Lady Eleanor is resting peacefully… confirmed…”

“How is her condition?”

“No change… should report to His Highness…”

She could make out the gist of their conversation. Leonard must have sent them to check on her late at night.

It didn’t feel like genuine concern—it felt more like surveillance. Secretly locking her away in a corner of the palace and sending people to observe her while she slept hardly seemed normal.

It was like a jailer patrolling a prison cell.

Still, one small comfort was that the door was securely locked again. The guards would report that she was asleep and add that her condition hadn’t improved.

Eleanor remained motionless until the noise in the hallway completely faded. Only then did she rise from the bed, moving as quietly as a mouse to check the surroundings before rushing to the window.

“Fertan.”

She called his name softly, barely louder than the chirping of crickets.

“Fertan, are you gone?”

If he had stayed clinging to the window, he might have fallen from exhaustion. Though she knew he wouldn’t still be waiting, her anxiety made her glance around frantically.

She scanned the nearby area first, then focused on the distant walls, searching carefully. But there was no sign of him.

Tap!

Something hit the window.

Tap!

An object rolled across the bedroom floor after coming through the window. It was a pebble, no bigger than a fingernail.

Her gaze followed the trajectory of the throw.

Far away, in the grassy courtyard, a shadow resembling an animal darted past. Unobstructed, it revealed itself fully and waved both arms toward the window.

Even without hearing a word, she understood the message:

‘I’m safe. I’ll head back now.’

Eleanor leaned her upper body out as far as she could, stretching her arm toward the dim moonlight.

‘I’ll be fine too.’

She hoped her message reached him clearly.

Fertan jumped in place where he stood, a playful gesture reminiscent of a boy. It was oddly amusing.

He didn’t linger long in a spot where others might see him. With one last peculiar leap, he disappeared behind the trees lining the edge of the Crown Prince’s residence.

Their reunion, whenever it might come, was uncertain.

Once he was gone, the brief time they’d spent together felt even more precious. They had shared important information and used their time wisely, yet it still felt insufficient to satisfy Eleanor’s longing.

Fertan was likely struggling to escape the palace by now.

But already, she missed him.

---

“Tsk, why does she faint so easily?”

Several hours earlier, Leonard stood over the unconscious maid sprawled on the floor of the punishment chamber, his expression one of irritation.

Her limbs were intact, and there wasn’t a drop of blood anywhere, so why had she fainted? 

This maid, who served Eleanor most closely, should have had some backbone, given her mistress’s strength. Yet, she flinched dramatically every time their eyes met.

“Hey, wake up already.”

It was clear she had genuinely fainted.

Evelyn? Everlyn? Whatever her name was, this maid held no significance to him. She had the mental fortitude of a grazing herbivore.

He hadn’t even begun questioning her properly. Simply opening the toolbox had caused her to roll her eyes back. She’d looked pale from the moment she entered the punishment chamber and collapsed before he could even start.

Leonard, who enjoyed watching dying fish flail, found no pleasure in this lifeless display. It was truly disappointing.

His interrogation hadn’t even been particularly harsh.

“You’ve been hiding things, so you must’ve lied about other things too, right?”

The maid’s face turned ashen as she exposed the whites of her eyes.

“Tell me. How far did Eleanor go with that bastard Adam?”

“I-I-I don’t know… anything…”

“There’s no way you don’t know. Where and how did they meet?”

“H-hic!”

She burst into tears as if he’d poured water over her. Her entire body trembled pitifully.

“Speak up. I’ve been watching them closely. Tell me how they connected.”

He grabbed her thin arm, shaking her roughly. Her limp neck lolled awkwardly on her shoulders.

That was all it took. Her pupils rolled back beneath her eyelids.

Leonard clicked his tongue and released the woman, who had already lost consciousness. He had no intention of gently laying her down on the cold floor of the punishment chamber. Instead, he nudged the unconscious maid with his foot.

“Is this some kind of joke? What nonsense is this?”

To confirm she was truly unconscious, he slapped her cheek hard. Even as the sharp sound of the slap echoed, the maid only lolled her head to the side, her eyes remaining shut.

Annoyance surged within him, and he sighed in exasperation.

“Tsk, what the hell is wrong with this girl?”

In the end, he left the punishment chamber without getting a single word out of her.

It was only after his victim was gone that Eleanor came back to his mind. If circumstances had allowed, he would have long since forced her to kneel before him. But things hadn’t worked out that way.

At the retreat, an unknown guard had fiercely protected Eleanor with his life. If it weren’t for him, Leonard might have taken her right there in the drawing room. But her fierce resistance had thwarted his plans, and he’d missed his chance.

Once they returned to his palace, Eleanor’s condition had rapidly deteriorated. A faint trace of blood on her handkerchief made him uneasy. Hurting her too much now might kill her, and that wasn’t what he wanted.

“My Eleanor needs to live a long time.”

He was deeply moved by his own overflowing affection, carefully monitoring her health.

But his patience had its limits. Deep down, he resolved that as soon as she showed the slightest improvement, he would take control of her. She had spread her legs for another man, after all, and deserved to be punished accordingly. What kind of punishment would be fitting? His mind raced with ideas.

Only now did he wonder what she might be doing. This thought hadn’t crossed his mind while he was interrogating the maid.

Though the moon was high in the sky, Leonard paid it no mind and called for the guards.

“Go check if Eleanor is doing well.”

“Yes, Your Highness. Shall I report whether she’s resting peacefully?”

“Also check if her condition has improved. If she’s sleeping deeply, that would be ideal.”

If she were well enough to sleep properly, he wouldn’t leave her alone for long. That would mean she was fit for sex—finally, he could part her legs and taste her flesh.

Leonard grinned lasciviously.

On the surface, his instructions might seem like those of a concerned lover checking on their beloved late at night. But the guards, familiar with Leonard’s twisted nature, obeyed his orders without relaxing their vigilance.

While waiting for the guards to return, Leonard revisited the punishment chamber to see if the maid had regained consciousness. The terrified maid, huddled in a corner, immediately began pleading in fear when she saw him. Her writhing form pleased him immensely.

“Are you ready to talk now? What did Eleanor do with that bastard?”

Her cheek was already swollen from the slap he’d given earlier. He struck the swollen side again.

“Aah…!”

“You must have seen or heard something.”

“I-I don’t know anything…”

The maid fainted once more, collapsing limply onto the floor.

This maid was pathetically weak. She collapsed at the slightest provocation—really, even a newborn rabbit would put up more of a fight.

There was no way Eleanor would rely on such a useless person. At most, she probably just brushed her hair or tied her dress ribbons. This maid wasn’t someone Eleanor would trust with secrets.

He pressed his boot firmly onto the back of her hand. When her eyelids didn’t even twitch, he confirmed she was truly unconscious.

“Tsk, utterly worthless.”

It was a waste of time to keep interrogating someone so insignificant. There was no satisfaction in tormenting her further.

Leonard ordered someone to lock the maid away elsewhere once she woke up.

Meanwhile, the guards he’d sent to check on Eleanor returned.

They reported that her bedroom was dark and quiet. According to the maid guarding her locked room, Eleanor hadn’t caused any trouble or cried.

Not shedding a single tear—what a delightful woman.

She was making an effort to recover despite her poor health and hadn’t complained at all. Truly, she was bold and worthy of being the Crown Prince’s bride. If she were to face him now, she’d likely remain calm and clever—or perhaps engage in another physical altercation like earlier. Either option appealed to him.

Though her condition hadn’t improved, she seemed to be sleeping soundly. For a moment, he hesitated—should he wait a few more days? Or act now?

He lacked the patience to wait for her condition to change. Soon, he decided on the latter.

“Tomorrow will finally be the day I share a bed with my Eleanor.”

Leonard rubbed his hands together, unable to hide his anticipation.

---

Sneaking into the palace in the dead of night was, in theory, an impossible feat.

If it were possible, it would mean the palace’s security was laughable and the imperial family’s power was on the verge of collapse. If Fertan could freely infiltrate any part of the palace, he would have already gone straight to the emperor’s chambers to slit his throat.

During the time when the deposed emperor’s faction still posed a threat, the emperor maintained strict vigilance and kept the royal guard at peak readiness.

But this time was different.

Thanks to the belief that Fertan was dead, the emperor had grown complacent. Recent intelligence suggested that state affairs had been entirely handed over to Leonard. The emperor indulged in luxury and pleasure, living carefree.

Security around the emperor’s quarters remained tight. However, other areas of the vast palace appeared relatively lax. Particularly, the guards stationed near Princess Lucena’s residence seemed noticeably negligent. Some even sympathized with Lucena.

Fertan had sneaked in by hiding in a supply cart traveling to and from Princess Lucena’s quarters.

His subordinates were horrified when they learned of this operation. Infiltrating the palace alone was far riskier than anything Fertan had ever attempted.

Even if it meant risking his life, the stakes couldn’t be ignored. Though he briefly pushed aside thoughts of how Eleanor’s future would suffer if he failed, hearing that she had been taken captive had driven him mad with worry.

The thought of what might happen to her in the confined Crown Prince’s palace was unbearable.

Despite the intricate web of alliances and plans he had painstakingly built, and despite the high probability of failure in his rebellion, Eleanor came first.

At least, in this moment.

Princess Lucena stopped him as he prepared to step out into the night dew. With her marriage issues tied to Fertan’s fate, Lucena was equally desperate.

“I never thought you were the type to recklessly throw your life away, Your Grace.”

“I’ll be careful. I only plan to check on Eleanor briefly and ensure she’s safe.”

“I’m worried about Eleanor too, but this isn’t the right way. You could get caught and killed along the way.”

Ignoring Lucena’s pleas, Fertan chose the darkest, most secluded paths to infiltrate the palace. Even someone as skilled as Fertan couldn’t suppress his fear entirely. The terror of being caught here would mean everything would end in vain. And Eleanor—she would be left at the mercy of the deranged Crown Prince, neither alive nor dead.

But the moment he met Eleanor, all his worries melted away.

Her bewildered expression at his absurd words.

Her voice trembling with both relief and frustration as she scolded him for coming.

The tears she shed, the sharp glint in her eyes as she glared at him—all these moments were etched deeply into Fertan’s memory.

He knew he had made the right decision to come.

Risking everything for a brief meeting with Eleanor was worth it.

Exiting the palace was just as perilous as entering.

As with most important buildings, the area surrounding the Crown Prince’s palace was landscaped with wide-open lawns designed to make hiding difficult for intruders like Fertan. Running across the brightly moonlit garden, he narrowly avoided detection by patrolling guards due to the sound of his footsteps.

By the time he barely made it back to Princess Lucena’s quarters, cold sweat drenched his back.