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Chapter 1
— — —
Prologue
— — —
“I intend to cut off your head and offer it to the tyrant of Calande.”
Ioreth looked up at her only sister with dazed eyes.
What had she just heard?
Ioreth was in a dark, damp prison cell.
Standing outside the iron bars was her half-sister, Catherine.
The queen, who had ascended the throne at a young age as the first daughter and crown princess of the King of Elovis, was beautiful.
She radiated the grace and dignity befitting her station. However, the words flowing from her refined lips were not nearly as beautiful.
“You know who the King of Calande is, the one who ascended the throne last month, don’t you? Kairon Winterbark—the man who might have once been your husband. Do you remember?”
Of course, Ioreth knew.
It would have been strange not to. How many people on the continent today did not know the name of the tyrant of Calande?
Fifteen years ago, the disgrace of the Calande royal family, who had been banished to a northern fortress, had led a rebellion.
The bastard born to a maid had slaughtered all his half-brothers and finally severed the head of his father, the King.
Not content with seizing the throne through such an unfilial act, he had invaded the neighboring kingdom of Levia and brought its king to his knees.
Rumors were rampant that Elovis was next.
“He is truly an extraordinary man. How fortunate it is that we didn’t marry you off to him back then!”
Even though the dark clouds of war were looming over the country, a flush spread across Catherine’s cheeks at the thought. She looked just like a girl in love.
“I needed a peace offering to send him, and as it happens, he demanded you, a descendant of the Levia royal bloodline.”
“What?”
“So, the Royal Council concluded that it was inevitable that your head must be severed.”
Catherine reached through the iron bars, gripped Ioreth’s chin, and whispered gleefully.
“It is also the duty of a monarch to reassure the people trembling in fear. Since the King of Calande pointed you out just as I was agonizing over how to deal with you for daring to covet the throne, wouldn’t offering your head to him be like killing three birds with one stone?”
Ioreth was dumbfounded. She could not believe these words were pouring from the lips of her gentle, kind sister.
‘Wasn’t I supposed to be able to leave this place once my name was cleared?’
Two weeks ago, Ioreth had been dragged to the capital on charges of murdering her husband and attempting to embezzle his assets.
Naturally, it was not something she had done.
But no one would listen to Ioreth’s pleas.
Ioreth had been locked in prison without even being able to hold her husband’s funeral.
That was not the end of it. When she was dragged to the capital, Ioreth had become not only a husband-murderer but also a traitor who had plotted to usurp the throne using her husband’s territory as a power base.
“Did you not incite the reactionaries from Levia to start a rebellion? Are the letters you sent to the capital all this time not proof of that?”
“I know nothing of this. I didn’t write them!”
Ioreth had truly done nothing.
She had been confined to a tower in the royal castle until she was eighteen, and after that, she was driven out of the capital under the pretext of marriage.
Everything since then had been a series of agonizing endurance.
Whether she was suffering from her elderly husband’s lewd habits, noticing the gaze of the maid who watched her from nearby, or when all news from the capital was cut off, Ioreth had endured it all.
She had done so because she believed her sister’s promise that she would be called back to the capital after five years.
“The people on the Royal Council are spreading false rumors that you are aiming for the throne. So, it would be better for you to hide away from the capital for a while. Five years—please just endure for five years. You can do that for your sister, can’t you?”
Where had that day’s kind smile and gentle tone gone?
Ioreth looked around frantically.
There was only one person who could prove her innocence.
“Duke, you’re there, aren’t you? Come out!”
As Ioreth screamed, someone emerged from the dark shadows of the prison.
It was Duke Benedict Valer.
He was a childhood friend who had grown up with Ioreth, and her former fiancé.
“You know I never plotted treason, don’t you? You saw all the letters I sent!”
Even though they had broken off their engagement, Benedict was still her only friend.
He was the one who had told her to send him a letter whenever she felt overwhelmed.
“Speak up, Benedict! The only letters I sent you were merely…”
“Are you talking about these letters?”
Benedict pulled a bundle of letters from his coat.
Ioreth stared blankly at the scraps of paper fluttering down through the iron bars.
Content she had never written was scrawled in her own handwriting.
[The Castle-lane territory is small and insignificant, but it is a legitimate barony.
If I get rid of my stupid husband and manage the territory myself, I can build up enough power. Then I will be able to return to the capital within a few years.
My rebellion starts now, Benedict. Quietly, secretly. But surely.]
Benedict glared at Ioreth as if in contempt.
“How shameless. I am disgusted by your duplicity, Princess Ioreth. Or should I say, Countess Castle-lane?”
“Ha…!”
“No, wait. Are you just a mere criminal now?”
Tears welled up in Ioreth’s wide eyes.
Was that despicable man her childhood friend?
But that was mild compared to the shock that followed.
Catherine leaned her body against Benedict’s chest for all to see.
“My, what shall we do if you make her cry already, Grand Duke? That role is mine.”
Grand Duke was the title bestowed upon the Queen’s consort.
They were, by all appearances, a perfect pair of lovers.
Benedict kissed Catherine’s hair tenderly.
“Ah, ah…”
Despair and rage flooded her mind simultaneously.
Benedict had become the Queen’s husband.
‘There was no one on my side from the very beginning.’
Just when had they set this trap?
Ioreth found it increasingly difficult to breathe.
“Did you kill Count Castle-lane and frame me for it, Sister?”
“What a pity. I had hoped you were stupid enough not to even know that.”
“Then, did you kill my mother, too?”
Ioreth’s mother had been the King’s second queen.
After rumors spread that her mother had an affair with a royal guard, the King’s love for her had ceased.
And not long after, her mother had committed suicide.
It was a suspicious death, but no one had made an issue of it.
Afterward, Ioreth was isolated, practically confined to a secluded tower in the royal castle, and her engagement to Benedict was broken.
Flames ignited in Ioreth’s eyes.
“I’m asking if you were the one who killed my mother!”
“You killed your mother, didn’t you, Ioreth?”
“What is that supposed to mean…!”
“If you hadn’t been born, would I have had to kill your mother?”
Catherine shoved Ioreth, who was clinging to the bars, with her booted foot.
Weakened from days of starvation, Ioreth tumbled across the prison floor with a loud thud.
“You were the one I wanted to get rid of from the start. But as long as your mother was holding on, there was no way to touch you. Hmph, how annoying it was to see you acting so high and mighty just because you were of Levia royal blood.”
“Why did you do it?!”
Ioreth cried out as if coughing up blood.
“I had no interest in the throne. Neither did my mother! So why…!”
“Is that any concern of mine?”
Catherine scoffed.
“You should have at least conceived a child with Count Castle-lane, little sister. I told you so many times to perform your marital duties. If you had, I might have felt a bit better and forgiven you!”
There was no trace of royal dignity left on Catherine’s face as she laughed shrilly.
“Though, I suppose even I would find it hard to sleep with a stinking old man!”
Ioreth trembled with humiliation.
The past five years spent with her elderly, debauched husband were embedded in her body like shards of glass.
The verbal abuse poured down like a rainstorm.
“Your crime is simply being born. Your very existence gets in my way. You, who have nothing better than me, yet are easily loved just because of your bloodline and a pretty face. Without any effort at all.”
A flicker of jealousy momentarily crossed Catherine’s sneering face.
“And yet, you are so full of self-pity… Well, at least that pretty neck of yours will serve as the foundation for the peace of Elovis.”
Having triumphantly admired her sister, who was disheveled with sweat and dried blood, Catherine turned away sharply.
Benedict waited for her, taking off his uniform jacket to drape it over the Queen’s shoulders.
Benedict glanced at Ioreth and curled his lips.
“Please give the order, Your Majesty.”
Catherine, having regained the dignity of a monarch in an instant, smiled elegantly.
“Execute the criminal as planned. The execution is at noon tomorrow.”
* * *
Behead the princess who murdered her husband and plotted treason!
The execution platform was set up on the highest hill in the capital. Tens of thousands of people flocked to see the prisoner who would be beheaded there today.
A very frail woman stumbled as she climbed the stairs of the guillotine.
Her long blonde hair was miserably tangled, and her shoulders were as gaunt and pathetic as withered branches.
The princess’s head to the tyrant!
Terrified by the fear of war, the crowd screamed for them to hurry and cut off Ioreth’s head to appease the tyrant.
Ioreth clutched the ruby necklace in her hand. It was a keepsake left by her mother.
“Survive, Ioreth. As long as you live out my life in my stead, even death itself shall not dare to harm you.”
‘I tried, Mother. But my methods were wrong.’
The price of a life spent discarding pride and self-respect to submit to others was nothing more than this.
Everything had been wrong from the very beginning.
“Carry out the execution!”
The knights forced Ioreth to her knees and pressed down on her back.
The executioner, wielding a dull axe, stepped close to Ioreth.
Catherine must be watching this moment from somewhere. Benedict would be by her side.
Ioreth gritted her teeth, clinging to the warmth of the ruby shard.
“If you thought this was the end, you were mistaken, Sister.”
Blood welled from her cracked lips, and her wide-open eyes were bloodshot.
She would return, no matter what.
Though no one knew it, Ioreth possessed the power to do so.
‘Even if I must cast my entire body into the fires of hell, I will return and tear down every bit of glory you have enjoyed!’
The axe swung by the executioner rushed toward Ioreth’s pale nape. Ioreth’s eyes, which she had not closed until the very end, burned with fury.
God, receive my soul.
And return me to this wretched place!
At that moment, a strange light leaked from the ruby shard. But no one noticed.
The witch is dead! Peace to Elovis!
Before long, the world sank into darkness.
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