At nine years old, Roxana loved her maternal home, which felt as though it had been plucked straight from a fairy tale. The small, two-story wooden house, surrounded by azaleas, rhododendrons, southern magnolias, and palm trees, sat perched atop a cliff. When she drew the curtains in her room, a dazzling white beach and jade-colored sea stretched out before her eyes.
Roxana preferred this small house to the massive, marble-paved estate of the House of Dalton. She preferred her mother’s home, where a kind and gentle elderly couple handled all the chores, over her father’s castle, where young maids and servants in uniform scurried about in a constant frenzy.
It was her first time back at her maternal home since her grandparents had passed away the year before. Roxana knew her mother and father fought often. While her father was away in the capital, her mother’s health had worsened, and she had taken Roxana’s hand to return to her hometown under the guise of recuperation. Unaware of the complexities of the situation, Roxana was simply happy to have escaped that suffocating castle.
"Mother. I’m going to the beach today to pick up some seashells! If you hold them to your ear, you can hear the sound of the waves."
"Don’t go too far. The wind feels strange today, so please play right in front of the house. Do you understand?"
Her mother would say strange things from time to time. Though puzzled, Roxana nodded.
"Of course! I’ll be back soon."
Roxana kissed her mother’s pale cheek, quickly grabbed her coat, and stepped out of the house. Partway down the path, she encountered someone coming up, riding a young horse and pulling a cart loaded with groceries. It was an old man with skin darkened by the sun. When Roxana beamed at him, he smiled back.
"Where are you off to, young lady?"
"To the beach down there!"
"Don’t go too far. It’ll be dinner time soon. And here."
The old man took off his straw hat and handed it to her with a chuckle.
"The sun is hot, so wear this. It’s a bit big, though."
"Thank you, Old Man Hans! I’ll be back soon!"
Waving both hands energetically, Roxana skipped down the steep cliff as if she might take flight.
The jade-colored sea stretching beyond the white sand was calm. The waves that lapped at her feet felt ticklish and cool, refreshing her skin. While searching for seashells, Roxana used a twig to draw her mother’s face in the sand.
Unlike when she was at the castle, her mother’s face looked much more at ease here. Beside it, Roxana drew her own.
"Should I draw Father’s face, too...?"
Roxana muttered to herself before shaking her head. His face was always twisted in anger. Whenever her mother was with him, her expression would darken. She had just decided to draw her own face next to her mother’s when—
"No!"
A sudden gust of wind blew her hat toward the sea. Flustered, Roxana lunged toward where the hat had flown. She thought she could catch it easily, but the gentle sea breeze grew stronger, pulling the hat further into the deep.
"Ugh!"
By the time she realized something was wrong, the seawater had risen to her chin. She tried to turn back, but a crashing wave engulfed her, covering her head. The heavy buoyancy pinned her down. The biting cold of the seawater felt as if it would freeze her to the marrow.
'Help me!'
She screamed desperately, but no sound escaped her throat. Roxana reached her arms toward the surface with all her might. But the more she thrashed, the more her strength waned, and her consciousness grew hazy as seawater flooded her nose and mouth.
'Am I going to die like this?'
Just as she was losing consciousness, a figure larger than her approached. Through her blurring vision, she saw brilliantly sparkling gray eyes. The boy, who had cut through the rough currents like a mermaid, grabbed her body.
Just as she was about to see the boy’s face, someone shook her shoulders urgently.
"My lady! Wake up!"
At the rough shaking, nineteen-year-old Roxana opened her eyes. The cold wind biting through the gaps in the stone walls chased away her drowsiness, and she saw a face filled with urgency.
"Mary?"
"This is no time to be doing this. Please, run away with me!"
The person who had woken her was her maid, Mary. Roxana sat up abruptly. When she opened the shutters to assess the situation below, a thunderous command echoed through the air.
"Reorganize the ranks and bolt all the castle gates shut! Load the cannons on the towers! Do not let them cross the walls!"
"Protect the Lord, and let the garrison assemble at the central keep immediately!"
It was the Captain of the Knights issuing orders to the knights and soldiers standing in formation. Under the red torchlight, she could see the soldiers, who hadn't even finished arming themselves, frozen in place. Shocked, Roxana gasped.
"What is happening? What is all this?"
"Knights in full armor have attacked. They’ve already passed the outer gate and are heading straight here!"
At Mary’s reply, Roxana crossed her arms and hugged her shoulders. She could see a large group of torches approaching from a distance. The intruders in pitch-black armor looked like a massive flock of crows. The kind that would not leave a single scrap of flesh on their prey. As the reality of the situation set in, her legs gave way. Mary reached out to catch the swaying Roxana.
"We have to run right now... My lady?"
"I’m fine. More importantly, Mary."
She didn't need support. Rejecting Mary’s hand, Roxana steadied her trembling voice.
"Father... where is the Lord?"
"I’m not sure... That is..."
At the vague answer, Roxana bit her lower lip. Behind them was a steep, rocky mountain. There was nowhere to run. He was likely hiding in the deepest part of the central keep. Whether his only daughter lived or died, or how many of his subordinates bled, only his own safety mattered to him. That was the kind of man he was.
"My lady, there’s no time... Please?"
Mary, pacing in anxiety, urged her on. Roxana closed her eyes for a moment, then made her decision.
"Mary. I will tell you the secret passage of the castle now. While the knights are buying time, evacuate everyone, starting with the squires and the maids."
"My lady?"
"Ten years. It has been ten years since the knights last marched from this estate. The Captain is similar to how he was in his youth, but the knights beneath him have grown lazy and weak from long-standing peace. Even at a glance, they cannot handle those forces."
It was the cold, hard truth. The House of Dalton’s knights had not marched since they suppressed a rebellion during the previous Marquess’s time.
Furthermore, since the title had passed to the current Marquess, the nature of the knights had changed entirely. They were no longer a guard force meant to protect the castle, the people, and the Lord; they had become the Lord’s hunting dogs—a low-grade private militia that threatened, oppressed, and exploited the people. If one considered the knights who had resigned in disappointment, their numbers were nothing more than a disorganized rabble.
"Then what about you, my lady?"
After hesitating, Mary finally conceded. Roxana offered a faint smile to the only person who had worried about her until the end.
"I have somewhere to go. Once I finish that, I will follow you."
* * *
"Help me!"
"Please! Spare my life! Aaaargh!"
"Kyaaaah!"
The sound of clashing steel, screams, the stench of blood, and a crimson inferno. The knights, softened by peace, were no match for the raiding legion. Roxana looked at the Dalton estate, where she had lived her entire life. The massive castle, which had seemed to touch the sky, was burning fiercely. It was the moment everything turned to ash.
There is nothing to resent, nothing to be angry about. Father is merely paying the price for his sins.
Roxana did not cry. Though she was kneeling on the cold dirt with her arms and legs bound, her heart was more peaceful than it had ever been.
"You vicious bastards! How dare you do this to our House of Dalton!"
On the other hand, the butler, Harold, who had been captured with her, was the complete opposite. Perhaps his anger had swallowed his fear, as he was shouting at the top of his lungs, spitting out curses.
"You damned wretches, you’ll face divine retribution! Do you have any idea how high-ranking our Marquess is!"
Unable to bear the sound of his death-rattle-like shouts, Roxana slowly looked away.
"Butler."
Harold, who had been screaming at everyone around him, snapped his head toward her.
"Please, stop now."
"My lady...!"
"It’s all over. The Captain of the Knights has been killed, and most of the knights and soldiers have surrendered. And Father, too..."
He had been hiding in the secret room, holding his breath, but he was soon discovered and eventually fell to his death after slipping while trying to flee. It was a pathetic end for the Marquess of Dalton, who had once wielded power with such arrogance.
"My lady! What do you mean, it’s over!"
Harold could never give up the luxuries he had enjoyed under the greedy Marquess. He simply could not accept the current situation.
"No. It is not over. We still have the Young Duke, do we not?"
"Harold..."
"These people won't kill us right away. They will likely transport us to the capital. We must wait for an opportunity to escape and send a telegram. If we ask for help, we can make a comeback. Lord Enoch is the nephew of the King, is he not? It is a bond the King himself forged."
"No. He will not help us."
Roxana shook her head with a bitter smile. Her fiancé, Duke Enoch Ferentz, despised her. It had been an eternity since she had last seen his face.
The reason was clear. It was because of her family, which was reviled by everyone. The fastidious Duke looked upon the House of Dalton as if it were filth.
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