Rowell still didn't know why Peter had liked her so much.
At that time, Rowell was just a child, and she was even a bit selfish due to a long illness.
So, Peter's words to young Rowell sounded like a promise of eternal love. There was no reason for Rowell to dislike Peter.
It was like a mutual understanding between them. If Peter said something Rowell wanted to hear, she would hug him tightly.
Rowell knew that her black eyes and hair were not something to be proud of. Fortunately, since Rowell closely resembled her father, there were no issues with her bloodline, but Rowell sometimes caught her parents secretly sighing.
["Why is Rowell's hair color so dark, dear? This child is unusually fragile, and her hair color is like this... I feel guilty. I'm so sorry for the child..."]
While her parents undoubtedly loved Rowell, they couldn't love even her black color. As long as Rowell was born with black, she would be haunted by inquiries about her bloodline all her life. Rowell's black was practically a defect.
Thus, Rowell's parents never once complimented her on the color of her new cut hair and eye color.
The only person who loved Rowell's black was Peter.
Peter was the only one who found something special in Rowell.
'Peter was the emperor.'
Rowell was lost in thought as she soaked in the bathtub. She was no longer in the guest room but in the bathroom assigned to her as the emperor's bride.
Last night, after the emperor stormed out of the guest room, Rowell slept, leaning on the flowers. The tension that she felt at the thought of meeting the emperor had long since disappeared. The reason was simple.
'The emperor can't kill me.'
This morning, Rowell recalled the surprised expression of the maid who opened the door to the guest room.
There was no caution in the maid's touch when she opened the door. Naturally, she must have thought that the bride would be dead.
But when the maid didn't sense any smell of a corpse in the room, she seemed a bit confused.
And when she looked at Rowell lying down with wide-open eyes, her expression was as if she had seen a ghost.
'I wonder how that woman is still alive.'
Rowell understood the maid well. After all, she had entered the palace prepared for death.
However, Rowell survived, ironically relying on the longing of the one who intended to kill her.
'Should I call it fortunate?'
Can misfortune buried in misery be called luck?
Rowell's hand, which had been over the bathtub, fell into the water mixed with fragrant bath oils. Sitting in hot water for a long time had drained all the strength from her body. Of course, for an ordinary person, there would be no reason not to control their body like someone intoxicated at this level. Still, Rowell, with a weak body, was a bit different.
Even leaning against the bathtub made her dizzy. The steam blocked her breath, and she had to breathe heavily like a fish thrown onto the surface of the water. Nevertheless, Rowell had no intention of getting up. Her head, staring blankly at the ceiling, seemed to be clouded with steam, and her body weakened, gradually losing consciousness.
Lowering her eyelids slowly, as if it were the last moment of her life, Rowell recalled one fact.
The best way to break a person is to take away their only possession.
It doesn't have to be something precious. It could be an indelible scar or a one-of-a-kind gem that will never be seen in the world again.
It just needs to be the only thing.
Something that must exist in the world around oneself. Something obvious that makes you stumble through life if it's missing, like losing a limb. When taking away that one and only thing.
'Only then does a person crumble.'
Rowell knew this from experience. The expression "falling into despair" used by the world also described this phenomenon.
Thus, despair became Rowell's weapon.
Therefore, before any plan, Rowell had to confirm one thing.
Feeling her fading body being pulled, she slowly blinked.
'I am the doll forced onto the emperor by the nobles, a fake Rowell....'
Can she move the emperor?
***
"I have brought the records you mentioned, Your Majesty."
At the sound coming from behind, the shadow of the man standing in the chaotic room tilted. A crimson liquid was dripping along the emperor's sword in his right hand. It was a situation that would startle anyone, but the one who found the emperor showed no sign of confusion as if such a situation were familiar.
"I will summon the court physician."
"Never mind. Start with the records."
The emperor unconsciously reached out his hand for the documents brought, and suddenly realized that his hand was covered in blood, lightly licking his tongue. This way, he couldn't accept the documents. He had to wipe it off. With that thought, he made a casual gesture.
"You read it, Simoren."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The knight addressed as Simoren responded like second nature and immediately unfolded the documents he had brought.
The documents contained unofficial records of the emperor's reign, detailing the incident where a family was annihilated ten years ago during the former emperor's era.
Listening to Simoren reading the documents for a while, the emperor raised his hand, interrupting the recitation.
"He sealed the entrance of the mansion with the imperial seal and set it on fire. He took care to avoid damage to the commoners' houses, and the confirmed dead bodies count is 32. Is there any difference from what you read?"
"No, there isn't."
The emperor's brow furrowed. It was unclear whether it was because Simoren's answer made him uncomfortable or if it was due to the bandaged wound hurting.
"Is there a possibility of survivors?"
"No one came out of the mansion at that time. I apologize for saying this, but isn't discussing the possibility meaningless in itself?"
"...Yes, that's true. There probably isn't a chance they survived."
Ultimately, the emperor turned his head. There was no need to hear more from Simoren. Everything indicated one thing clearly. Rowell was dead.
'Even if she somehow survived that fire... Rowell's health was so fragile.'
Peter recalled the last time he saw Rowell. Even with basic medical knowledge, her sickly body seemed challenging to survive. So, even if Rowell survived the fire, with that body, she would not have lived long.
Peter was well aware of that fact. The very act of expecting anything was futile, and he knew that well.
"I know it well... Why can't I still let go of hope?"
As Peter muttered in self-pity, a look of concern appeared on Simoren's face.
"...I heard that the 'doll' you brought in yesterday is still alive."
"Yeah. She said she'd be needed. Right before I went insane. She insisted there was no one more suitable than her."
"Did you dare say such a thing to His Majesty? Considering his condition..."
"It's not entirely wrong, is it? That I'm on the verge of madness, and there's no one more suitable than Annette Martinek."
Peter lightly clenched the hand wrapped in a handkerchief, looked at it, and chuckled.
"She really looked like her."
"...Did she really resemble her that much?"
"I thought Rowell had come back to life."
Yes, if Rowell had been alive, she would have had such a face. A face with a little more baby fat removed and matured than in his memories. Of course, Annette's face seemed much more nervous than Rowell's, but Rowell wasn't a particularly good-natured child from the beginning, as is often the case with children who have undergone prolonged illnesses.
So when Annette called him "Peter," he almost lost his sanity.
Her appearance resembled too much the girl I loved, who must now be buried underground.
Even though he knew Annette was not Rowell, he felt the madness rising through his spine towards her. If Peter's patience had been a little shorter, he would undoubtedly have thought of her as Rowell.
"But that can't be her real face, right? Surely it's some kind of magic or... They used some means to create her."
"Probably. Anyway, it had an effect. It made enduring a bit more manageable."
"Then, that hand..."
Simoren's words trailed off. His gaze was fixed on Peter's hand, tied with a blood-stained handkerchief. Sensing the gaze, Peter raised his hand, shaking it lightly, and chuckled.
The hand seemed to ask when it had been sliced like that, and it was already halfway healed.
"It's nothing. Just thought I might be going crazy."
Even until morning, Peter couldn't erase Annette's face from his mind. It was inevitable if he wasn't insane. So, if he were crazy, dreaming, and experiencing hallucinations, he wouldn't feel pain.
Unfortunately, Peter's senses were intact. The blood was red and warm, confirming that he was indeed standing in reality. Unfortunately, the reality being conveyed was also crystal clear.
Annette Martinek is not Rowell Hessen.
The fact meant one thing: the person who pushed Annette in front of him knows about Rowell.
Peter had doubts about that fact.
"But surely all the involved parties must have died back then."
Moreover, all records related to the Hessen family had been disposed of according to imperial law.
Yet, after ten years, how did Martinek manage to bring in a woman who looks exactly like Rowell?
Is this just a simple coincidence?
"Simoren, bring the records related to Annette Martinek...."
Just as he was about to command to bring records related to Annette, there was a knocking sound on the door.
Ordering the door to be opened, a maid bowed before Peter.
"Your Majesty, Lady Annette's life is in jeopardy."
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