“You’re the one who betrayed Madame Loren.”

Anblin, her speech halted, turned red from her eyes to her cheeks.

“No way. You haven’t forgotten.”

In his faint smile, a blatant disdain was clearly felt.

Anblin’s pale neck turned red.

“Is there anything else to add? I’m a bit busy.”

The sunset, painting the world in crimson, even colored the smiling face of the man who spoke with precision. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

“I… I was wrong. Ed. So please forgive me, just once. You… you loved me.”

Edga sighed with a cold scorn. His mood soured.

It wasn’t a phrase that a woman who, driven by greed, broke off a relationship with the Prince Consort would say.

At least if there was something called conscience.

“Admit it; your body wasn’t bad.”

Edga stood up abruptly. Fatigue overwhelmed him. Today’s princess’s performance seemed unusually long.

“Why would you say that…”

Anblin’s contemplative voice trembled.

How.

The moment the fever of first love coldly subsided.

The blindly worshipped something that had covered her vision like a fantasy shattered like thin glass, making a crisp sound.

Finally, the world felt clear.

It wasn’t love from the beginning.

The once beating heart, the mind paralyzed by emotions, turned cold.

Anblin slowly closed her eyes, wiping away the tears that clung to the corners of her eyes as she opened them again.

Her small face, moist with tears, reddened under the intense sun.

She would not forgive. Absolutely.

She took a cream-colored handkerchief from her handbag and gently lifted her half-lowered eyelids. The movement was exquisitely graceful.

Anblin had returned, almost imperceptibly, as an elegant princess.

“You. I’ll make you regret it.”

“If you wish.”

To the woman who was persistent until the end, Edga showed a refreshing smile.

The setting sun spread over the face of the woman who had once given him satisfaction.

The red glow flowed like a river, crossing the space between the two that could never be returned.

The tiny cell, where the only light came through a small window the size of a palm, was dark even though it was daytime.

The air she deeply breathed was incredibly humid.

How did it come to this?

Diane lay on the worn mat, staring blankly at the sunlight that fell on the cold floor.

Although a rusty radiator protruded through a hole in the faded cloth, she felt nothing when it pricked her side.

She no longer counted the days. She had given up on all the things she had tried to do to endure captivity. She realized they were pointless actions.

Without Johan Leopold’s mercy, she could not escape from this abyss no matter what she did.

“Diane Brook. Step forward.”

The guard, unlocking the door with a jingling bunch of keys, shouted.

Diane lay as if dead, unmoving. As the guard entered, he roughly grabbed Diane’s arm to pull her inside.
Awkwardly thin legs shuffled inside gray pants.

It seemed like the interrogation, which had continued without letting her sleep, was about to resume. It was no different from torture.

When the guard knocked, the door to the interrogation room opened.

Diane, dragged like an animal to the slaughterhouse, stood trembling as if enduring it. The guard roughly pushed her in.

As Diane was pushed inside, she stopped swaying, bowing her head deeply.

It was then that black shoes entered her sight, along with a familiar scent reaching her nose.

“!”

Diane’s gaze reached the shoe tip illuminated by the light from the low ceiling.

Her heart started to pound. Slowly raising her face, she saw Johan Leopold.

For the first time since that day, the man she had never seen before still had a perfect appearance.

Seeing Johan with his eyes closed, his fists clenched, Diane felt as if this was the study at Greathill.

If only she could turn back time…

“I brought her, Your Grace.”

Gray eyes slowly revealed themselves under the lights when Johan lightly nodded.

When Johan gestured with his chin, the guard brought Diane and made her sit in front of him. The sound of the chair scraping against the floor was loud in the tense air.

“…Yo, Your Grace.”

Amidst the humid air, the refreshing scent of Johan’s skin cut through Diane’s composure.

A suppressed sound escaped from her dry mouth.

“Except for touching the report, there is nothing… really.”

She didn’t even hope for forgiveness. She knew that such words did not exist for a man like him.

Just paying for the crime she committed was enough.

“I can swear on the honor of House Brook. What I handed over to the fence was everything. Please believe me.”

She knew this was her last chance. So, she willingly confessed her sins. There was no use in resisting when her life was on the line for embezzlement.

“That’s enough.”

Diane’s lips reflexively closed. It felt like her throat was being squeezed when her sharp gaze was met.

“Gasa made a wrong choice, …and nothing else.”

She still wore an unjust and pitiful expression.

Her initial misstep led to a precipice ahead and a cliff behind. There was nowhere to run.

“Fine.”