TVIL 01

Chapter 01

Clang!

An early evening dinner table, where silence had fallen over everything, felt as tense as walking on thin ice.

With the sound of a dish shattering, the body of the Princess collapsed heavily onto the floor.

Her eyes rolled upward as if she had lost consciousness, their focus blurred. Her entire body began trembling in small, violent shivers, like the leaves of an aspen tree in the wind due to convulsions.

Watching the scene, Lindenel’s brow creased slightly.

“What are you trying to do this time?”

The Princess, whose mind was not entirely sound, had started another seizure.

It had already been two years since the former Emperor died.

Although various circumstances had delayed the succession and left a long vacancy before the coronation, the true owner of the empty imperial throne was none other than the woman who had just collapsed.

Yet despite her noble status, the attendants did not rush to help her. Instead, they hesitated and watched the situation.

That was because Duke Hymenwar, who sat across from her, had given no command.

They were confused—should they follow the whims of the Princess, who had started this spectacle, or the Duke who despised disturbances?

Even as the Princess rolled her eyes back, Lindenel remained calm.

He simply wiped his mouth with a napkin and signaled for the meal to be cleared away.

Even then, the Princess could not regain control of her body.

Is it starting again?

Whenever something displeased her or when she was in a bad mood, the Princess often pretended to be ill, as if throwing a tantrum.

He thought today was simply another one of those days.

“I’d like to humor you if possible, but my schedule is busy today. Please get up now.”

Unable to bear the Duke’s sarcastic remark any longer, the head attendant mustered his courage and spoke.

“Your Grace. What if Her Highness the Princess is truly unwell…?”

Lindenel raised his hand and cut him off.

Then he glared coldly at the Princess lying on the floor.

He had thought she wasn’t a foolish person, yet recently her behavior had become difficult to understand.

Wasn’t she someone who found the disgrace of being called mad more humiliating than anyone else?

But these days, she behaved as though her mind had truly deteriorated.

As if the madness he had pinned on her had actually devoured her.

Looking down at her trembling body, Lindenel called her name like a warning.

“Princess.”

It had been a long time since the Princess had heard an honorific from Lindenel.

Ever since the banner of the Duke Hymenwar family was planted right beside the imperial throne, she had never once received proper treatment from him.

The Princess herself knew her situation well, so when he scolded her like this she usually felt ashamed and stopped after a certain point.

But today, strangely, her exaggerated act dragged on longer than usual.

Gradually, the trembling convulsions subsided.

Her rolled-back eyes slowly closed.

The attendants, who had been restless and ready to drag her out at any moment, were just about to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Cough—!”

A violent cough burst from the Princess’s mouth.

Along with it, dark, blackish blood spilled out.

It was far too much to ignore.

“Y-Your Highness the Princess!”

The cries that had been suppressed burst out all at once.

One maid who had only been watching ran forward and turned the Princess’s head so the blood would not flow back into her airway.

Lindenel had been staring blankly at the blood for a moment.

Only then did he come to his senses.

“What is this?”

Seeing the Princess who had coughed blood and now lay stiff like a corpse, Lindenel suddenly jumped to his feet and shouted.

“Head attendant! What are you doing just standing there?!”

“Call the royal physician immediately!”

Only then did the attendants realize something was truly wrong and began moving in perfect coordination.

While they brought a stretcher and wet cloths, Lindenel supported the limp body of the Princess.

“Princess.”

“……”

The body in his arms felt strangely light.

He had always thought she was a thin and frail woman.

But today, her weight felt so insubstantial that it suddenly filled him with unease.

It felt as though he were holding an empty shell whose contents had vanished.

Holding the motionless Princess in his arms, Lindenel hesitated for a moment before speaking a name he had buried long ago.

“Astrid.”

It was a name he had repeated countless times in his mind throughout his life.

How much had he hated that name?

And how much had he longed for it?

Yet the last time he had actually spoken it aloud was in the first year after he met her.

It had been so long since he said her name that even the pronunciation felt strange.

“Wake up.”

But Astrid remained unconscious.

Staring with shaking eyes at the blood soaking the chest of her plain white muslin dress, Lindenel suddenly lifted her into his arms and left the dining hall.

Seeing this, the head attendant hurried after him in shock.

“Your Grace! If you carry her like that, the Noble Council will surely—”

“Be quiet.”

The dark, low voice that fell heavily to the floor warned him.

“I’ll take the Princess to her bedroom. Bring every physician in the castle.”

“Y-Yes, Your Grace.”

As he turned to leave, the head attendant suddenly stopped, as though remembering something.

“And summon Caleb.”

“Yes!”

Even amidst the chaos, the head attendant shouted with a hint of relief.

Calling Secretary Caleb away from the succession task force—which was extremely busy preparing for the transfer of power—meant the Duke intended to do everything possible to save the Princess.

The elderly head attendant, who had never once run even if the imperial palace caught fire, now ran with all his strength while muttering to himself.

You must live, Your Highness.

No matter how much suffering there is, life in this world is still better.

But the pale fingertips protruding from beyond the Duke’s broad back showed not the slightest movement, as if unaware of the desperate hearts around her.

* * *

Late at night, when everyone inside the imperial palace held their breath.

The central courtyard was so quiet that not even the barking of a dog could be heard.

The reason nothing disturbed Princess Astrid’s rest was simple.

Lindenel had killed them all.

Over the past few days, anyone who had whispered about whether the Princess would live or die had lost their heads—regardless of rank.

Lindenel had simply needed somewhere to vent his anger.

In that chilling silence, Astrid slowly opened her eyes.

Her face was drained of color.

Her lips were swollen and cracked.

Dark red blotches spread from her body up to her neck—evidence of the poison’s effect and proof that her life did not have long left.

Yet the light in her eyes was fierce, as if burning the last flame of her life.

Lindenel had taken everything from her.

Even her father’s death had left behind suspicious questions.

And yet, the dreadful emotion she could never shake off now felt like a curse.

At first, she had only been curious about where his gaze was directed.

Even when he was beside her, his heart always seemed somewhere far away.

For a Princess who had grown up receiving more than enough attention, Lindenel was a figure who sparked her curiosity.

‘Aren’t you curious about me? I’m curious about you. Where are you looking? Who are you thinking about…?’

When she spoke such words honestly, she had been an innocent girl who feared nothing in the world.

If she tried hard enough…

If she embraced him with the love overflowing from her heart…

Even if he didn’t return the exact same feelings, she believed he would respond with something similar.

It had been an innocent and optimistic wish.

Astrid stepped down from the bed barefoot.

Perhaps the paralysis had not yet faded—her toes were stiff and would not move, and the soles of her feet felt nothing.

But she had to go.

There was something she wanted to say to Lindenel one last time.

Leaning against the wall, she limped forward step by step.

At any moment it felt like she might faint again, but she endured with sheer willpower.

Step by step, she moved forward with difficulty.

She could clearly feel that the lifespan of her body had reached its final moments.

Astrid recalled what had happened before she collapsed.

When she received the soup containing poison—on top of the disgraceful title of the Mad Princess—cold sweat ran down her back and her lips went dry.

Astrid thought to herself.

‘Is Valdemar truly trying to make me drink this?’

‘I’m sorry, Your Highness the Princess.’

Valdemar, a loyal servant of her late father, had completely changed after the Emperor’s death when the empire fell into the grasp of Duke Hymenwar.

The gentle and upright man he once was had disappeared.

He had tried everything to free Astrid from Lindenel’s control, willing to make any sacrifice.

But when all methods failed, the last time they met he left behind only those words before disappearing.

‘I will free you from that place.’