chapter 11
The emperor made a suggestion—no, a plea. He asked if he might use Meli, the princess’s attendant, for his own ends.
“Stay by Isabel’s side. Just as you are now.”
Meli’s lips trembled as she prepared to answer His Majesty.
The path he had taken—from being the late king’s illegitimate child to not only securing succession but even ascending the throne—had, as people said, surely been anything but smooth. To stand against the cunning and the ruthless, he must have been even more calculating and merciless than they were. He must have cut away every last shred of his own humanity.
And yet, the emperor was still human.
Ever since his coronation, Meli had watched his every move from up close, as someone on the inside of the imperial court. That was why she could detect the shift in his behavior.
Contrary to the rumors that spread beyond the palace walls, his words and actions toward the princess were always respectful—and far from indifferent. In fact, he was anything but indifferent. He was desperate. For reasons unknown, he seemed deeply wounded by her, and yet, even so, every move he made was for her sake.
“When I hurt Isabel… be the one to comfort her, in my place.”
It was all an act.
A sincere deception.
The reason Emperor Kaihart had claimed Princess Isabel as his prize was Isabel herself. For her sake.
It was a situation that, on the surface, made no sense. But it was the truth.
“Yes, Your Majesty. I understand.”
And so, Meli—the first to witness everything—held her tongue.
That this young emperor was hopelessly clumsy in love. That he wanted her with all his heart. So much so that he was willing to play the villain.
🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁
“So that’s what happened.”
Several days later, during the day, Isabel met discreetly with someone who had once been her closest aide, tucked away in a remote corner of the central library where no eyes could follow. From her, she was able to hear a brief account of the situation.
“Yes, that’s all I know for now, Princess.”
Isabel gave a faint nod—only for the floor beneath her to sway. She clamped a hand over her mouth and drew in a few shaky breaths.
She’d suspected it, but still… so it was true.
In short, Charles had been killed by the emperor that day. The only witness was an imperial servant who’d seen the scene from a distance, so the details remained unclear.
“Yes, Isabel.”
“It all happened because of you.”
Kailhart’s low voice echoed in her ears—he used to mutter that from time to time.
Her old attendant stood silently by, waiting for her to steady herself, then let out a quiet sigh.
“Princess… your face… you look terribly unwell. What on earth did he do to you…?”
She couldn’t finish the sentence. But the deep crease between her brows spoke volumes—the anger she held toward the emperor was palpable. Her clenched fists trembled slightly.
She was one of the rare few who had truly served Isabel with loyalty. Unlike those who constantly compared her to Isaya, looking for any excuse to slander her like a pack of wolves, this woman genuinely worried for Isabel’s well-being.
“I’ve been so worried about you. I knew staying inside the palace must be difficult, but seeing you now… it’s worse than I imagined.”
She paused, biting down hard to suppress her fury, then pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and carefully tended to the scratches on Isabel’s face.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine at all, not to me.”
At the gentle warmth of the hand brushing her cheek, Isabel exhaled softly. Meli had been hurt simply for coming this close. And aside from Kailhart, who visited her nearly every night, this kind of tenderness was something she might never be allowed again. Slowly, Isabel drew back.
“Thank you.”
“I’m only doing what I should. And if you’re feeling like this because of all the things people have been saying, please try not to pay them any mind. They don’t know anything—”
But before her aide had finished speaking, fragments of things Isabel had once heard resurfaced in her mind, ringing sharply in her ears.
“Filthy woman…”
“How can someone like that even be called a princess?”
“Hah. Honestly, I regret every coin of tax I ever paid.”
“Wouldn’t it have been better if she’d just perished back when the Holy Capital burned? At least she might’ve died with some dignity—”
In an instant, the people of Saint-Au—now refugees—turned on her. They claimed she had sold herself to the Empire, abandoning her homeland to save her own life. They hurled stones and curses at Isabel, pointing fingers and turning their backs on her.
What remained after the kingdom’s collapse was a torrent of blame and scorn, sharp enough to cut. Every cruel word stung, and yet, strangely enough, it brought her some small measure of comfort.
‘So it’s not all gone after all.’
‘There are still traces—however faint—of what once was.’
That was why Isabel embraced even those people. She wanted to preserve what was left of the kingdom her sister had loved. Even if no one ever knew she did it—it didn’t matter.
“I’m… fine.”
“I know you’re enduring it all for the greater good, but still, I had to say it. As someone who once served you more closely than anyone, I just want you to take care of yourself.”
Isabel nodded at the earnest plea, then glanced past the dust-covered shelves to make sure no one was watching. The air had felt strangely sharp for a while now, as if pricking at her skin.
“Please be careful. I mean it.”
Isabel nodded again. Then she quickly dismissed the aide and scanned the area once more. This woman had always supported Isabel, even during the weakest period of her reign. She was invaluable. For that reason, Isabel had to keep her at a distance.
She avoided meeting anyone she had known in the past unless it was absolutely necessary. The more important they were to her, the more she kept them at arm’s length. If she ever displeased Kailhart, they could suffer the consequences too.
“You always seem to walk the hardest path, Princess Isabel.”
‘Have I always been that way?’
Isabel gave a bitter smile instead of answering. The aide bowed silently and stepped back.
Trying not to draw attention, Isabel—as she always did—chose the quietest, most deserted paths through the palace. Especially after reuniting with her aide, she was even more careful to avoid being seen.
However, just as she was about to reach her quarters, someone pushed her from behind.
‘What—?’
She hadn’t heard a sound. No footsteps. No presence.
Panicked, Isabel tried to regain her balance, but her foot had already slipped.
Her body pitched forward toward the nearby lake.
With a loud splash, she plunged into the cold water.
“Ugh…!”
The sting of water rushing into her lungs made Isabel grit her teeth. The moment her body hit the surface, the cold tore through her like blades, sending a violent shiver down her spine.
Though it wasn’t an especially frigid day, it was early December—the lake water was like ice. The chill seemed to freeze her to the bone, making her convulse instinctively. She flailed her arms and legs with all her strength, desperate to reach the surface.
But the lake was deeper than she’d expected—and that wasn’t even the real problem.
Something long had risen from the lakebed, coiling tightly around her wrists and ankles.
‘What is this?’
She’d never felt anything like it before, and the unfamiliar sensation sent a jolt of horror through her. Isabel struggled wildly, trying to free herself, but her breathing grew labored. Bubbles escaped from her lips in trembling bursts.
‘Let go.’
‘I can’t die here.’
‘There are still things I have to do…’
“Remember this well, Isaya. Water is a medium that transcends time and space.”
At the sound of the phantom voice, a sharp headache surged through her skull.
‘What memory is this…?’
But she didn’t have time to chase the thought.
A high-pitched ringing pierced her ears, and then her vision went black.
🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁
Kailhardt watched Isabel from a distance as she smiled.
It had been so long since he’d last seen that smile—he couldn’t take his eyes off her pale face.
She looked far more at ease than she ever did when she was with him.
For a moment, he felt a pang at the sight of her gentle expression when she said she was fine. It grated on him. However, when he thought about it again, he realised it was only natural.
With a faint furrow between his brows, Kailhart tried to calm the unrest churning in his chest.
Leaning against the stretch of dark shadows within the library building’s blind spot, he silently observed her every movement as she exchanged a brief conversation with her former aide before returning to where she had come from.
Even the aides who usually followed him like shadows had been dismissed; he stood alone, wordless, watching for some time after.
If anyone had witnessed that scene, they might have been stunned. The Emperor, gazing so tenderly at the princess of a defeated kingdom, now reduced to nothing more than a war trophy.
But to Kailhart, there was nothing new about it at all.
He had been watching Isabel for a long time.
It was an old habit—so old, in fact, that it felt as natural to him as a hatchling instinctively following its mother the moment it breaks free from the shell.
A faint scoff escaped Kailhart’s lips.
‘Isabel… Even in this wretched state, people still hover around you.’
‘Well, of course they do. You’ve always been someone worthy of love—meant to be cherished by many.’
He silently followed as Isabel exited the library, choosing the quietest paths to avoid attention. Just as he always had.
But then, something suspicious caught his eye.
The librarian.
More precisely, one of Charles’s secret agents, someone who had long carried out covert tasks behind the scenes and had been placed near Isabel by Charles with the intention of entrapping her, approached her.
Kailhart watched the man trail Isabel and, once they neared the steep cliffside above the lake at the back of the library, suddenly shove her in.
‘That bastard.’
Without hesitating for a moment, Kailhart ran towards where Isabel had fallen and dived into the lake.
The icy water drenched him instantly, but he could see nothing but her.
She was caught in the coils of something long and serpentine, like a water snake, and was sinking.
He reached out to her.
