I stared at Ascan with a flustered expression. I hadn’t imagined he’d suddenly show up and say something like this.

Don’t drift away without permission—how was I supposed to take that?

“What do you mean?”

“I’m saying you won’t be allowed to slip away as you please.”

“Slip away?!”

I’m not some fugitive.

I couldn’t fathom what he was thinking to say such a thing. But there was definitely something I needed to clarify.

“Who said I was drifting away?”

“Are you trying to dodge the issue?”

“It’s not that—I did avoid you because I needed time to think for a bit… but I never once thought about distancing myself from you.”

I was just embarrassed.

No matter how drunk I’d been, I’d kissed him without his consent. I needed to steel my resolve to never make that mistake again.

In short, I gave myself time to reflect in solitude.

Ascan’s expression turned strange. Just moments ago, he’d acted like someone furious, but now he suddenly softened his gaze and turned his head away.

“…You’ve got quite the nerve saying that. Did you think I’d forgive you just because you said it like that?”

Huh?

I’d never even considered avoiding Ascan something serious enough to require forgiveness.

Though he pretended to be unaffected, upon hearing my reply—that I’d never intended to drift away—he seemed oddly flustered.

“But I guess you really did get bothered when I disappeared from your sight? I didn’t expect you to chase me all the way into the carriage.”

At my words, Ascan’s expression hardened. As if trying to conceal his earlier flusteredness, he replied in a deliberately casual tone.

“…I received an imperial order. I judged it better to board with you since I’m obligated to protect you.”

“That damn imperial order. If the Emperor hadn’t commanded you to guard me, you wouldn’t even be here, would you?”

At my question, Ascan momentarily fell silent. He stared at me quietly, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

After a brief silence, he spoke softly.

“…I told you to avoid attending the party if possible—why did you accept the invitation?”

I’d been about to tell him not to change the subject, but his question struck too directly at the core for me to deflect.

My reason for attending the party was singular: Ascan’s sword, Kalspelliver, mentioned in the original novel .

Whatever hidden agenda Empress Seruna and the Manoko family had, nothing mattered more to me right now than Ascan’s psychological state.

I needed to know whether he’d turned dark and desired world destruction. But since I couldn’t say that honestly, I made up an excuse.

“Even if I didn’t attend this party, it wouldn’t solve anything. I’d just be buying time—I wanted to face it head-on.”

“It would’ve been better to meet him after rejecting the Emperor’s marriage proposal.”

“You’re treating me so kindly because of that imperial order—if I reject too quickly, I might regret it.”

It was a careless excuse, but Ascan’s eyebrows twitched.

“You’re delaying it for such a trivial reason?”

“In any case, spare me the unnecessary worry. Depending on the person, taking half a year to consider a marriage proposal like this isn’t an unusually long time.”

It was common for people to deliberately delay their answer to secure better terms.

Since I had no intention of marrying Helsion, I wanted to resolve it quickly—but by normal standards, it wasn’t strange at all.

For some reason, Ascan’s gaze darkened.

“Don’t overthink it—just settle this quickly.”

“It’s my business. Don’t interfere.”

“Even though you like me, will you keep leaving room for other men?”

“W, who keeps saying that? I don’t like you!”

Annoyed, I denied liking him—and as if on cue, he stared at me with chilling eyes and said,

“But you do. Like me.”

“I never said—!”

“Just go ahead and like me.”

What? What?

For a moment, I didn’t understand and stared at Ascan. But he continued speaking softly, his expression utterly serious.

“It’s too late to turn back now. When you recklessly swung your sword around, did you think I’d just let you go if you suddenly claimed you disliked me?”

“No, when did I ever—”

“So don’t even think about looking elsewhere. Your heart must belong to me alone.”

I was speechless.

Anyone overhearing might think I’d just been forcibly ordered to like him.

What was truly strange was that the Ascan in my memories had been kind and pure—but somehow, his current demeanor overlapped with that past image.

The Empress’s Palace of the Karlua Empire.

Seruna sat before a large mirror.

She was a woman whose beauty evoked the purity of a white lily.

In truth, her delicate appearance made it hard to believe she was skilled in hypnosis and could manipulate people at will.

Thud. Thud.

An old man approached Seruna, who was staring blankly into the mirror.

With white hair betraying his age, short stature, and frail frame, he appeared unremarkable—but his sharp, piercing eyes exuded a strange sense of intimidation.

He was Marquis Manoko, Luphilmo.

“I hear that Count Atreus and Lady Brellof departed for the Imperial Palace just now.”

“Oh?”

For the first time, a faint smile appeared on Seruna’s otherwise expressionless face. Her eyes didn’t smile—only the corners of her lips lifted, giving off an eerie vibe.

Seruna asked, as if confirming,

“Preparations to receive our guest are complete, I assume?”

“Don’t worry. Every servant and maid working at today’s party has been assigned from our side. Whatever Lady Brellof eats, it will contain sleeping powder.”

Hypnosis couldn’t be performed in crowded places.

Thus, to hypnotize Tanashia, they needed to move her away from the noisy party venue to a quiet, isolated location.

Once Tanashia, drugged with sleeping powder, began to feel drowsy, their agents working at the party would guide her to a prepared room.

Once she was inside that room, the game would effectively be over.

Rumors said Lady Brellof was quite cunning. She’d likely already realized they were targeting her after the failed assassination attempt. She might refuse to eat anything at the party, so other traps must be flawlessly prepared.

“Don’t worry. We have dozens of our agents inside the party venue. Even if she refuses to eat, she won’t be able to escape.”

The prepared traps weren’t limited to sleeping powder. The moment Tanashia let her guard down, she’d inevitably fall into the snare they’d set.

Ideally, Tanashia should be eliminated before she accepted Helsion’s marriage proposal. Once she became Empress Consort, it would be far harder to act.

Seruna adjusted her fully styled hair once more and said,

“I’m not worried if it’s just Lady Brellof alone. But Count Atreus is constantly guarding her—never let your guard down. If we eliminate him this time, we can sleep peacefully from now on—”

Thud.

At the small sound of something dropping, Seruna stopped speaking and turned her head.

There stood a trembling maid. Judging by the hairbrush she’d dropped, she’d unintentionally overheard their conversation.

“I—I’m so sorry, Your Majesty. I didn’t hear anything.”

“True. It’s my fault for not securing the surroundings—you needn’t apologize.”

At Seruna’s seemingly benevolent words, the terrified maid’s expression momentarily relaxed with relief.

Seruna glanced sideways at Luphilmo and said in a flat tone,

“Father, please handle it.”

Handle it?

Moments ago, the atmosphere had seemed forgiving, but Seruna’s words now carried an entirely different meaning.

The maid hesitated, then slowly stepped backward.

Luphilmo walked toward her with an expressionless face. From his pocket, he pulled out a circular coin with a hole in it and a glass bottle of perfume.

“M, Marquis, I truly didn’t hear anything—!”

Hiss!

First, Luphilmo covered his own nose with a handkerchief, then sprayed the perfume directly onto the maid’s face.

It was a specially formulated scent from the Manoko family, excellent for clouding consciousness and focusing the mind.

“Please, please, spare me!”

The maid begged, but Luphilmo remained impassive, dangling the coin strung on a cord before her eyes.

“Shh, look at this.”

The maid, who’d seemed on the verge of tears, suddenly stared blankly at the coin. Her eyes followed its side-to-side sway.

Watching her, Luphilmo whispered softly,

“When I count to three, you’ll move exactly as I say. One, two, three.”

Miraculously, as soon as Luphilmo finished speaking, the maid sat motionless like a person stripped of emotion—like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Now, go straight to your room and write a suicide note. Say you’re exhausted by palace duties and wish to rest.”

The maid replied with unfocused eyes, as if entranced.

“…Yes.”

“After finishing the note, find a long rope, tie it to the ceiling, and hang yourself. Understood?”

“…Yes.”

“Go now.”

The maid staggered to her feet and began walking toward somewhere.

Just as Luphilmo had said moments ago, she would go to her own room, write the note with her own hands, and then hang herself.

Having completed his task, Luphilmo returned to Seruna and said,

“Be more careful.”

“Did I know you’d come here? I simply forgot I’d asked you to comb my hair earlier. It’s just a worthless life—why does it matter?”

“As you say, such lowly creatures mean nothing even if you kill hundreds—but I say this out of fear our words might leak outside.”

“Don’t worry. My palace’s management isn’t so lax.”

At Seruna’s words, Luphilmo nodded as if convinced.

At that moment—

Knock, knock. Yuella, Seruna’s head maid, entered.

“His Majesty the Emperor is approaching this location.”

At her words, Luphilmo performed a practiced motion: tilting a painting on the wall to the right and rotating a glass ornament in the opposite direction.

Creeeak—

Immediately, what had appeared to be solid wall opened, revealing a hidden space—one of Seruna’s secretly installed chambers.

Luphilmo turned to Seruna one last time and said,

“Then I’ll see you later.”

“Yes, Father.”

With that exchange, Luphilmo vanished into the hidden chamber. Soon after, the entrance seamlessly returned to its original appearance, as if nothing had been there.

Moments later, when Helsion entered the room, only Seruna sat before the mirror, adjusting her appearance.

Seeing Helsion’s reflection in the mirror, Seruna feigned surprise as if she knew nothing.

“Your Majesty, what brings you here?”

“I came to see you.”

“Oh my, such delightful words—”

“I’m curious what scheme you and Marquis Manoko are plotting.”

“…”

At Helsion’s follow-up words, Seruna’s expression turned icy.

Though Helsion didn’t know this room contained a hidden chamber, he hadn’t failed to notice the dark intentions of Seruna and Luphilmo.

“Let me warn you—it’s best not to touch Lady Brellof.”

Even upon hearing Helsion’s threatening words, Seruna smiled sweetly. Though she looked like an angel from a painting, her words were anything but angelic.

“Anyone hearing that might think Your Majesty has fallen in love.”

“Heh heh.”

At that, Helsion laughed too.

Though their marriage was political, both Helsion and Seruna knew each other’s personalities all too well.

“It’s amusing to hear such words from the Empress. Aren’t we both far too cold-blooded to harbor hot emotions like love? Let me be clear—I need the weapon Lady Brellof created.”

“Your Majesty, I merely wish for my child to become the next Emperor.”

Helsion had only invited Ascan and Tanashia to dinner that evening for conversation—but upon hearing this, he realized the story had leaked.

Though smiles still lingered on Helsion and Seruna’s faces, their eyes glared at each other with murderous intent.

“Empress, it’s best to curb your greed. If you obediently accept only what I give you, nothing bad will happen.”

“It pains me to hear you call it greed. I’m merely protecting the rights I rightfully deserve the moment Your Majesty secured the throne.”

Between Helsion and Seruna, neither willing to yield an inch, invisible sparks seemed to fly.

Helsion looked at Seruna with amused eyes and said,

“It unsettles me to look at you—I keep feeling like I’m staring into a mirror.”

At that, Seruna also smiled angelically and replied,

“Likewise, Your Majesty.”