TTI 3

 Those were the first words Jürgen spoke in the carriage carrying Rowell.

Jürgen's explanation was surprisingly monotonous, as it was confirmed that Rowell's father had shown opposition to the imperial family, and that the Hessen mansion was burned as punishment. There was no twist. So nothing struck Rowell.

But what was before Rowell's eyes was a clear reality.

“Fire is just an example to other nobles. It is a warning that not only the Hessen family but everyone involved will not escape death.”

Hearing Jürgen's calm voice, Rowell tightly grabbed the hem of her skirt on her thighs.

“So me…”

“That’s why I hid you. If it becomes known that a member of the Hessen family is alive, they will definitely try to kill you.”

Rowell fell silent again. No, I gritted my molars. Only when her jaw started to tingle was she finally able to open her mouth again.

“I don’t understand.”

The voice coming from his bowed head was trembling slightly. Tears fell down onto the back of my hand as I clutched the hem of my skirt.

“My father wasn’t that kind of person. Even if my father was guilty, there was no need for other people to die. All those people…”

Rowell loved his family and the people of the Hessen mansion. Even if they did not expect Rowell to recover, and even if they sometimes showed signs of exhaustion due to Rowell's struggle with his illness, it cannot be denied that Rowell received a lot from them.

Rowell could vividly recall the last scene he saw before leaving.

[I hope there are good results, my daughter.]

[They say your brothers will arrive tomorrow, so by the time you return, the whole family will be together for the first time in a long time.]

[Miss, if you get hungry on the way, take this out and eat it. It’s a sandwich covered in jelly, which is the lady’s favorite.]

A father with a worried expression, a mother trying to smile. A nanny who carefully took care of small things. And the maids who would sit by Rowell's side and read him books on nights when he couldn't sleep.

The world of Rowell, who could not go outside, was the Hessen Mansion, and everyone in the Hessen Mansion was like Rowell's family.

But it all burned down in an instant.

Because he heard opposition to the imperial family, because his father was guilty, and because he wanted to set an example.

Neither reason made sense to Rowell. No words could be the reason they had to die.

This fact was so sad and unfair that Rowell cried for a long time in the carriage.

It was the day Rowell's world burned down.

* * *

10 years have passed since then.

“Do I really need to enter the imperial palace?”

Rowell, who was about to lower his veil, suddenly turned his head when he heard a voice coming from behind him.

Her foster brother, Renee, was standing in front of her. Renee's neatly combed silver hair had a friendly smile on her face as she always remembered, but it was different now. Today, a clear seriousness adorned his face.

"Say you'll quit now. It's not too late."

"...Why are you so worried, Renee? Is the emperor ordering a black-haired noblewoman as his bride?"

As she asked, Rowell swept away her hair, visible beneath the veil, as if to show it off.

Jet-black hair, like black silk, that couldn't be stained by any color.

Dressed in a pure white dress, like flowers filling the room, and with a white veil draped over her face, Rowell was remarkably beautiful with only the plain white dress. Could it be because her flowing black hair contrasted sharply with the white dress?

Even in the midst of a dazzlingly decorated crowd, her unique frozen and cold atmosphere, like an icy river, would surely capture attention.

"As long as the conditions are met, there shouldn't be any problems. Don't worry."

"The conditions themselves are absurd, don't you agree? How is it any different from being told to bring grapes in the middle of winter?"

Renee eventually frowned and wiped his face at Rowell's quiet anger.

Just a few days ago, an emergency decree was issued for all nobles.

The Emperor, who had staunchly refused to take a wife, suddenly announced that he would accept a bride. 

However, the condition was that the bride must be a noblewoman with completely jet-black hair. He warned that if a bride who did not meet this condition was brought, she would be killed and sent away.

“A noble woman with black hair… It’s ridiculous.”

In the Empire, hair color is considered proof of lineage. Those referred to as noble blood, regardless of gender, are born with bright hair colors.

"Until now, there has never been a noble with black hair. This is..."

"Why not, Renee? There was one."

In response to Rowell's question, Renee sighed. Her words were correct. So far, only one noble with black hair had been known.

"If you're talking about the Emperor's first love, she's dead. Moreover, executed for treason."

"Yeah, true."

"So, the Emperor has publicly announced that unless he brings back the deceased, he has no intention of taking a bride. But if you become the Emperor's bride... you'll have to bear that wrath. My ability to protect you within the palace has its limits. You..."

"Enough, Renee."

Rowell, who had been quietly listening, spoke up.

"I'm fine."

Unlike Renee, who couldn't hide his concern, Rowell remained calm.

Of course, it was natural. Rowell entering the palace was not someone else's coercion; it was her own choice. Renee, who had been staring at Rowell with a twisted expression, asked.

"...Aren't you afraid of death?"

"Well. I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared of death. But you know it too. I don’t have that long left to live.”

"But… ”

"Let's stop here."

Before Renee could grab her again, Rowell turned away and walked out of the room. Outside, a splendidly decorated carriage awaited her.

As Rowell boarded the carriage, she looked out beyond the rattling window and pondered, "If I ride this carriage... can I come back again?"

René's concerns were not unfounded. Rowell had heard many stories.

The current Emperor, Peter Von Derain Belf, was a tyrant who had subjugated many, including Rowell's father. It was also a well-known fact that he abhorred women.

"I heard that all the women who tried to seduce the Emperor died."

The reason was simple. The Emperor couldn't forget his first love who died. Women who knew this fact dyed their hair black, imitated his first love, and tried to deceive the Emperor. As a result, they had to sacrifice their lives.

"And now, I might be the next in line for that fate."

Aren't you afraid of death? It wasn't something Rowell was unfamiliar with. Fighting the fear of death was an everyday struggle for her.

The reason was straightforward. Rowell was terminally ill. The doctors said she had about six months left.

"Sometimes, when I have seizures or my fever rises too much, I feel the fear of death. The fear that I might not see the sun the next morning is like a shadow looming over me."

But more than anything, Rowell had a task she had to prepare for, even if it meant facing death.

Killing the Emperor.

Ten years ago, Duke Jurgen concealed her identity and brought her to the capital.

He offered her a considerable sum of money, suggesting that she should hide and live. However, she refused and clung to Duke Jurgen.

[Take me in. I don't want to be accepted as an adopted daughter. It's enough if I can repay your grace by your side, Duke.]

After much deliberation, Jurgen adopted her as his adopted daughter, and she became ‘Annette Martinek’ instead of ‘Rowell Hessen’.

There was only one reason she seized the opportunity to live a peaceful life.

'Revenge.'

Revenge on the von derain Belf family that burned her entire world. The Emperor who had incinerated Hessen, the one who made Rowell into Anette, and Jurgen, who had facilitated it—all of them were dead. Time had changed many things, but Rowell's thirst for revenge remained as strong as ever.

'Whether the Emperor is who he is now doesn't matter.'

All that mattered was the loathsome von derain Belf. As long as she could channel her rage and pierce their throats.

Solely for that purpose, Rowell chose to enter the imperial palace. From the moment of her decision, there was no room for hesitation.

'...No, there is one thing.'

As Rowell got off the carriage and passed through the corridor adorned with white flowers, memories of the past flashed in her mind. The boy who used to hold her hand and lock eyes with her.

[Wait for me. I'll come back for you... I'll save you.]

Yes, Peter. You're the only one I couldn't let go.

'...I wanted to meet you again someday.'

Now that dream had become unattainable. Since she entered this place, the only thing waiting for her was the Emperor's death and her own demise.

At the end of a dark corridor, when Rowell stopped, a servant slowly opened the door.

And behind it, the Emperor awaited.

As Rowell stepped inside, she reaffirmed her determination.

'I have to seize any opportunity.'

If she wished, she could shake the Empire, even collapse its foundation. She had no intention of quietly waiting. If she could somehow make the Emperor drop his guard and thrust a knife into his throat, she could do anything.

However, when Rowell entered the room and saw the Emperor standing there, all her resolutions seemed to fade away.

In her whitened mind, her lips, slightly agape, uttered a single word that filled her thoughts.

"...Peter?"

It was an unexpected reunion.