A quiet commotion arose.

The Emperor’s secretary discreetly communicated with the coachmen, calling the carriage to the back door of the main building. It was better to avoid them as much as possible, as catching the eyes of reporters would only lead to troublesome speculative articles.

The reason Ilarid collapsed was not just because of the blood that had been slowly seeping out. Though it was an ominous premonition, Cledius deliberately refrained from voicing his suspicions.

He lifted Ilarid without hesitation. People behind seemed to shout warnings, but he couldn’t hear them properly.

Have I ever held her like this before? Before that thought could even cross his mind, Cledius’s body was already descending the stairs.

A body lighter and smaller than expected. Ilarid, limp and showing not even a hint of resistance. Perhaps the state Cledius had wanted most.

Isn’t that right? asked the fallen Ilarid.

‘…No.’

His arms supporting her tightened their grip. At the same time, his eyes grew strained. At least not like this, Ilarid.

Her neatly arranged golden hair was now disheveled from the frantic movements.

“The Empress should be with the head maid…”

“I know this symptom better than anyone else.”

Cledius boarded the carriage, carrying Ilarid, leaving behind the sobbing maids of the Empress.

Before ascending to the throne, he had suffered countless assassination threats. At least he was better off than those outside the carriage.

“We’re heading straight to the Imperial Palace. Keep silent about the Empress’s collapse. Make haste.”

Cledius’s voice was extremely calm, but it was trembling unusually. As soon as the Emperor finished speaking, the carriage door closed. He checked Ilarid’s condition while using his whole body to shield her from the violent shaking of the rapidly departing carriage.

And he immediately realized.

‘…Poison.’

His suspicion immediately turned towards the Eastern Continent. The methods of developing new poisons were endless, and most of the ingredients originated from the Eastern Continent.

The poisons made by the Empress Dowager and Cledius were also influenced by the Eastern Continent.

His mind raced. While thinking about the composition of an antidote, he simultaneously traced the forces behind Ilarid’s assassination attempt.

There were more factions displeased with the Empress than one might think.

Just the nobles demanding the Empress’s immediate dethronement filled a cart. Add to that the new forces supporting the Empress Consort, and even the republican faction that unconditionally opposes the Imperial family and nobility.

Not all the people love the Empress. There are those who view her actions as hypocrisy and point fingers. Some even click their tongues, saying that after all, she’s from the upper class and can’t understand the suffering of ordinary people.

But public opinion was better than for the Emperor. Regardless of Ilarid’s true intentions, the masses tend to be weak to visible images. To think they would target the Empress instead of the Emperor.

‘Why of all times…’

Cledius bit his lip while examining Ilarid’s condition.

The republican faction had been weakened to the point of being completely uprooted under the pretext of having previously led the Emperor’s assassination attempt.

It was highly likely they targeted the Empress, who was relatively easier to aim for than the Emperor. Before the fire was completely extinguished, was this their last struggle?

It was a stupid mistake.

The root of the problem was that while surveillance at the Empress’s Palace had been increased, security had not.

He placed his hand on Ilarid’s cheek, which was gradually losing color. He could feel her unstable breathing at his fingertips.

At the very least, he shouldn’t have left her alone. Even with maids around, how could they have known and stopped a highly trained assassin?

Ilarid’s navy blue dress tore under Cledius’s hand. The red bloodstains soaked into the corset were vivid.

As the bleeding slowly continued, the poison must have spread throughout her body. If it could pierce through the tight corset in one go, it was likely a weapon like a thin, long iron needle.

The dark-colored clothes Ilarid wore were also problematic. The deep navy dress was enough to swallow the red hue of blood.

To think she endured for so long without showing any signs of pain. If only she had collapsed earlier. If there had been even a slight change in her expression, he would have noticed immediately, but why.

“Did I make you like this?”

Cledius muttered blankly. It wasn’t a soliloquy. But he couldn’t hear any response.

This wasn’t the sight he wanted. He had secretly thought that someday she would get tired and crumble, that’s all. If that moment came, he had planned to embrace Ilarid like a timely savior and live by her side forever.

But Ilarid endured and persevered, becoming even stronger. An Empress who would choose to break rather than bend.

Now, enduring pain was nothing to her.

“…Why didn’t you say something?”

The futile self-talk lingered in the air. Ilarid still had her eyes closed. Would she hear these words now?

Can you hear me, Ilarid? Cledius’s hand moved from her cheek to her forehead. The cold sweat beading on her forehead was wiped away under his hand.

Right now, there was nothing he could do. It was the only moment in Cledius’s life when he felt powerless. He could only hope that Ilarid would hold on until they reached the Imperial Palace.

“I believe you can hear me. It’s the voice of the one you’ve hated so much.”

Cledius’s voice trembled finely. It wasn’t because of the carriage’s shaking.

If only she would open her eyes and glare at him with those cold eyes no different from usual. If only she would stare blankly and coldly push him away.

“I know you’ve been living with a knife in your heart. So…”

Just hold on until we arrive. He wanted to say that, but the words only lingered around his lips. No words came out between his parted lips. Only the sound of unshed breaths circled, turning into tears that fell.

One drop, two drops fell onto Ilarid’s motionless body. Cledius took her hand, not even realizing he was crying.

A cold hand he had never properly embraced even once. Her small, slender fingers felt as if they had lost their warmth long ago.

Cledius brought Ilarid’s hand to his neck. He felt the chilly sensation on his thin skin, but there was no movement.

“The life you’ve so longed for is right in front of you. Ilarid, can you feel it?”

A strand of his ceaselessly beating heart was placed on Ilarid’s hand. Just this much. Her closed eyelids seemed to say.

“Even if you strangled my neck with this hand right now, I would gladly accept it. So please, please…”

Despite the urgent plea, no words came from Ilarid’s slightly parted lips. Only a faint breath answered in place of words.

**

They said the necklace had come up for auction.

The necklace in question that any member of the Rikas mercenary group would know about. The fact that Lebel was persistently searching for this necklace was famous even among the members.

Because of this, it had become routine to immediately inform Lebel whenever a necklace with a green gem was discovered.

This afternoon too, a member casually reported that they had seen a similar necklace at the downtown auction house. Lebel rushed there immediately, but unfortunately, it was a false alarm.

‘After falling into the hands of a slave trader, it must have gone to auction.’

There’s no way she would have died holding it. From what he heard, it was quite an expensive jewel. Seeing how the slave trader quickly stuffed it into his pocket with gleaming eyes, it was certain.

During his time at the mansion, he had vaguely asked Limless about it, so he remembered the approximate shape of the necklace. Even if it wasn’t the right one, wouldn’t a jeweled gift be nice anyway?

That necklace was the price of Lebel’s life and an item he wanted to return to Ilarid.

At the end of Lebel’s gaze, the Empress’s Palace came into view again. He hid his body in the shadows created by the twilight, keeping a distance from the Empress’s Palace.

This morning, he had only glimpsed from afar. Ilarid boarding the carriage, holding Cledius’s hand. Who knew that brief moment of hesitation would feel so long?

Did he secretly hope she wouldn’t take it? Lebel cut off the sprout of jealousy rising in his heart with a bitter smile. Over such a trivial matter. It was a big problem that a mere tool like him was becoming so greedy.

Eventually, a carriage arrived in front of the Empress’s Palace. But the figure he had been waiting for was nowhere to be seen.

Lynette and Alice. The descending maids somehow looked empty. Their hollow gestures brought uneasiness.

After the carriage left, Lebel hesitantly approached them.

“Head Maid.”

Lynette neither startled nor greeted playfully as usual. Alice, too, had lost her usual bright demeanor, her entire face covered in tears.

“Did something happen? Her Majesty the Empress…”

There was no answer. Lebel’s instincts detected danger that had befallen Ilarid. He cut off all preamble and asked the maids.

“Where is she?”

When the carriage entered the Imperial Palace, Ilarid’s condition had become increasingly serious.

Ilarid, who had been lying lifelessly in Cledius’s arms, suddenly trembled. Then, with a coughing sound, she coughed up dark red blood.

The blood flowing from her mouth ran down her neck, wetting her collarbone and the diagonal wound. The torn navy blue dress skirt failed to completely cover her body. Cledius took off his formal coat to cover her bare skin.

As soon as the carriage door opened, servants who had already heard the news rushed over.

“Her Majesty the Empress!”

“We’ll send a doctor to the Imperial Palace immediately!”

“No, that won’t be necessary.”

No need for a doctor while the Empress was coughing up blood? The servants’ faces turned ashen. Cledius glared at them with a coldly hardened face.

“Tell the Captain of the Imperial Guard. Block all entry to the Imperial Palace from this moment on. No one is to enter without my permission.”

What on earth are you planning to do? It was frustrating that they couldn’t dare to question the Emperor’s words. The servants and maids shrank back, making way for the blood-stained Emperor and Empress.

Cledius sent everyone inside the Imperial Palace outside. Then he entered the study and headed for the private secret space. A corridor hidden behind a bookshelf opened, and long darkness enveloped the two.

Time was of the essence. As it was a space originally used as a shelter, there was at least one cot placed there.

As soon as he laid Ilarid on it, he immediately took something out of a drawer, put it in a small bowl, and lit it. It was incense made from detoxifying herbs prepared for emergencies.

Soon, the narrow secret space began to fill with smoke emitted by the detoxifying herbs.

Should he be grateful that the corset tightening her waist had slowed the bleeding? But there was no time to carefully undo the knots. Cledius raised a dagger and cut through all the entangled strings, removing the corset.

Unexpectedly, the bleeding was not severe. After treating the wound, he immediately returned to the desk and began mixing an antidote.

At this moment, the knowledge of poisons learned from the Empress Dowager shone. Damn it, Mother, to think you’d be of help to me at a time like this. Thanks to you, I’m saving the very person you so desperately wanted to eliminate.

Throughout the process of mixing the antidote, chewed curses flowed from Cledius’s mouth. It was unclear who these curses were directed at. Vulgar language without a subject or listener dissipated among the smoke of the detoxifying herbs.

He barely calmed his trembling hands and occasionally looked back. Ilarid was still holding on well.

Soon, Cledius, having mixed the antidote, approached Ilarid with a small glass vial. As he supported her back, a streak of blood flowed in a straight line from her mouth.

“…Ilarid.”

The person he held gave no response. Without hesitation, Cledius brought the vial to his lips. Then, holding the antidote in his mouth, he slowly let it flow into Ilarid’s lips.

It was the first time their lips had touched since their last union. If she realized this fact, what expression would Ilarid make?

But she probably wouldn’t even remember.

He removed his lips and carefully wiped Ilarid’s blood-stained face. A tedious waiting game began, waiting for the effects of the antidote and incense to spread.

“…You said you lived for my death.”

His voice was muffled due to the hazy smoke of the detoxifying herbs rising. Cledius, still holding Ilarid, gently pressed his forehead against hers.

“Then… stay with me until my last breath.”

Words like a curse flowed with a faint breath.

“Don’t die, Ilarid.”

Those words alone were his only sincerity.