The moment Ophelia looked down from the tower of the Reden palace, she realized all of this was a dream.

It would have been harder not to know it was a dream. Haslen had been dead for quite some time, and Ophelia had a history of driving countless people to death to avenge him.

So Ophelia stood still in the tower. There was no screaming or crying. Now she knew that strangulation was faster than begging to get what she wanted.

The scenery was exactly as she remembered it.

People shouted at her fiancé, and Mahanas sat on the royal seat at the execution ground, looking down at them with satisfaction. It was a sight that made viewers feel murderous.

As the executioner raised his sword, it flashed in the sunlight. The day Haslen was executed was the first sunny day after a long rainy season, so it was a reflection of reality.

The sun also shone on the tower, so Ophelia watched the whole scene under the bright white summer sunlight. Her fiancé’s head falling, the executioner picking it up and hanging it on a spear. The gathered crowd making cheering-like sounds and starting to throw stones. And finally, Mahanas rising from his seat…

“…Hah.”

The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was the cloth covering the bed. After looking up at the thick cloth suited for the season for a moment, Ophelia sat up. She pulled her knees up as she leaned against the headboard. The chill down her spine made her feel unwell.

She turned her head to look at the side, her vision blurred by the bright light.

On the bedside table that Idren used to use, there was a oil lamp burning brightly, left as it was by someone who had forgotten to lower the flame. The strong sunlight in her dream was probably due to that.

Ophelia approached the bedside table and completely covered the lid of the oil lamp. The flame, cut off from air, flickered a bit and died.

Placing her hand on the lid for a moment, feeling the heat, she reflected on the dream she had.

Though it was startling after so long, the execution ground of Reden was originally what she saw every night. It had always been like that after Haslen died.

It was only in this life that it had been temporarily blurred due to the man who suddenly intervened. And now that he was gone, it had started again.

Feeling the lingering heat gradually transferring to her skin, Ophelia steadied her breath. In the dim air of the less bright day, she muttered inwardly. This is nothing. It’s nothing.

But the inner thoughts that she kept repeating were not at all calm, feeling more contradictory than stable.

“Oh my, you’ve burned your hand?”

It was what the attendant said during the morning face washing. Ophelia, who had been letting herself be tended to by the hands washing her face, turned to look at her. A face etched with pure concern and bewilderment came into view.

“It’s not severe, but the area is quite wide. Doesn’t it sting?”

It seemed it had happened from holding the oil lamp lid for too long. Ophelia shook her head.

It was an injury she hadn’t even been aware of until hearing about it. Now that she realized, it did feel a bit hot, but it was bearable enough at that level.

“Still, His Majesty will be upset,” the woman said as she slowly wiped Ophelia’s hand with a damp cloth.

Hearing about her husband from someone else’s mouth was refreshing, so Ophelia looked into the woman’s face. Misinterpreting the meaning of that gaze, the woman hastily took back her words.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that…”

“No, it’s fine.”

At those words, the attendant who had closed her mouth looked down for a moment before speaking.

“I’ve sent for a doctor, so is it alright to stay like this until then? Burns need to be treated early to prevent the wound from lasting long…”

The question was cautious. Ophelia nodded again.

Taking that as full permission, the woman completely submerged Ophelia’s hand in the basin. Ophelia felt a strange sense of déjà vu at the sensation of her body unexpectedly getting wet. Idren had once put her feet in a basin in a similar way.

As she slowly poured water over Ophelia’s hand, the servant asked,

“May I ask how you burned your hand?”

“…I held the oil lamp lid for a bit too long.”

But the shape of the wound was clearly that of someone who had done it intentionally, to anyone who saw it.

The conversation ended there. Thinking it better not to ask further, the servant silently washed her hand.

After the doctor who soon arrived finished some degree of treatment, Ophelia sat on the bed for a while. Her mind felt foggy, perhaps from lack of sleep. It wasn’t a suitable state for a day with many tasks to handle.

Sitting on the bed, she counted the things she had to do today.

First, she needed to calculate and organize the budget coming in from Galisa and the assets she had received from Idren in place of the Lohos territory. Since they had decided to take Reden, there would be many expenses in that direction, so it was better to grasp how much wealth was available for immediate use when needed.

After that, Salode would come to report.

Idren had entrusted internal affairs to that man and the head servant this time as well. The difference from before was that a comprehensive report of everything would come to her daily. This was because she now held the final decision-making power.

Even so, there was no way she knew more about politics than the heir of Chesa, so she would just do as Salode said.

Today, besides the stories of Edegrun and inside Sigrasal Castle, there was something else she needed to hear from him.

“If you want to move people or get certain information, request it from Salode. He manages the royal messengers and spies.”

Before leaving, Idren had repeatedly urged her not to go to places like Galisa’s 7th District alone, saying such things.

Ophelia also agreed with that to some extent – it was better to eliminate causes that could create disturbances through rash actions while the king was away from the capital − so instead of moving directly, she had asked to find out about Mahanas’s financial situation through people.

He must have been quite cornered due to the uncorrected canal fees and pirates occupying Reden’s waters, and since he even had debts to Netepel, it was necessary to accurately grasp the situation.

Moreover, the debt he owed to Netepel was quite unsettling.

At the time, she hadn’t looked into it properly due to the shock of not being able to control her own actions, but as far as she knew, Mahanas in her previous life had never said he owed money to Netepel.

He must have had debts, so there probably hadn’t been any demands for repayment, but it was strange that Netepel was now making demands he hadn’t made in her previous life.

That wasn’t the only strange thing. Mahanas had clearly spoken as if he didn’t know he owed that debt to Netepel.

“Yes, there was a merchant group I borrowed some money from, but it turned out the real owner of that group was the 2nd prince.”

While Mahanas might be like that, there was no way Netepel wouldn’t know that Mahanas had borrowed money from him.

Though their relationship had soured now, they used to be close, and even then Netepel hadn’t told her about Mahanas’s debt.

And now that their relationship had turned bad, demanding Mahanas’s debt as if he had been waiting for this moment clearly seemed to have an intention.

In the past, since she hadn’t hidden anything from him, Netepel knew about the circumstances and power dynamics of the Reden royal family. So he could have easily predicted that Mahanas would come to her if he demanded repayment of the debt.

Of course, now she could trample on her brother several times over, but the image of her that Netepel knew was different.

Since shameful memories are harder to forget, Ophelia clearly remembered how often she, the one Netepel remembered, had been frightened when she was young.

And now he was using Mahanas.

She couldn’t help but feel complicated. Although their relationship had soured now, Ophelia had never thought he would act so lowly towards her. Because she herself had no intention of doing so.

But the very fact that Netepel had gone to Brinwell in the first place was an act revealing hostility towards her.

Idren said it was because of jealousy, but Ophelia thought differently.

What was that petty affection that he would confront the king of a country? If he held a grudge against either Idren or her, the probability that it was her was much higher.

Still, his actions felt too excessive.

Netepel already had many enemies as it was. Ophelia recalled what she had heard from Idren not long after her birthday.

“The 2nd prince of Egelbamot wasn’t granted permission to leave the country, he was exiled abroad.”

It was a surprising statement as it hadn’t happened in her previous life.

“Exiled?”

“I haven’t been able to find out the exact reason yet. But even if someone is an eyesore, it’s rare to drive one’s own child overseas, so there must have been an issue the emperor couldn’t tolerate.”

“Why not announce it officially?”

“Well. The justification might have been insufficient, or there could have been some kind of deal. From the emperor’s perspective, he might want to prevent the imperial family from being talked about by people.”

Idren added a bit more explanation after that.

“You might not know this well… but usually, an illegitimate child’s very existence is a father’s disgrace.”

It was said in a flat tone, but Ophelia thought the statement was somewhat inconsistent.

Isn’t it not that the illegitimate child is the father’s disgrace, but that having such a father should feel like the child’s disgrace?

It seemed right that it should be shameful to have a father who did dishonorable things.