Empress Erpia’s Palace.

Bright sunlight streamed through the large arched window, illuminating the antique room.

The chamber, dismissed of all maids, was silent as a tomb. The carpet made of golden fox fur shimmered like velvet.

Erpia lay on the long sofa placed at the center of the room, lightly tapping its armrest with her hand.

It had been long past the expected time, yet Ben had not returned.

For over twenty years, Ben had faithfully stood by her side—never once arriving late like today.

‘Could something have gone wrong?’

Erpia anxiously nibbled her lower lip.

‘Giving that insignificant woman a dose of poison should have been nothing more than a trivial task for Ben.’

Erpia knew Ben’s capabilities better than anyone.

He was the one who, for so long, had unhesitatingly stained his hands with blood on her behalf.

While guarding her, Ben had never once made a mistake.

Though she believed nothing serious could have occurred, today, for some reason, her heart felt strangely unsettled.

—How can Your Majesty despise that woman so much? You, the Empress, are the mother of all people. Should you really be swayed so easily by a mere nobody?

Ileon’s words from last time refused to leave her mind.

Unlike herself, the noble Empress, that woman was nothing—mere trash.

Beyond a moderately pretty face, she possessed nothing of value.

Yet ever since that woman appeared in the palace, so much had changed.

Her relationship with her son, Jeremy, had severely deteriorated, and Dietrich, whom she expected to harm the woman, instead maintained a close relationship with her.

‘Even Ileon, of all people.’

Erpia’s hand gripping the sofa arm trembled violently.

If all she had was her appearance, then ruining that beauty would be enough.

The best way to destroy a person’s worth was to bury their greatest strength in the mud.

Then, from beyond the closed corridor, footsteps approached—angry and heavy.

‘Jeremy?’

As Erpia frowned, the door suddenly burst open with a loud bang.

“Mother!”

It was a voice unlike his usual—desperate, almost a shriek.

Yet, pleased to hear her son’s voice after so long, Erpia rose from the sofa with a gentle smile.

“You’ve come? Jeremy.”

Erpia’s face froze as she faced Jeremy directly.

There, stood a monster.

The man resembled her son in nothing but golden hair and violet eyes.

His facial skin had completely melted away, leaving his eyes, nose, and mouth grotesquely twisted—his appearance so hideous it was unbearable to look upon.

Erpia stammered in a trembling voice, utterly disbelieving.

“Y-you… are truly Jeremy? What on earth happened to your face…?”

Jeremy stepped forward from the doorway, approaching Erpia.

Up close, his face was truly horrifying.

Flesh and bone were exposed between the gaps in his skin, and his features were so displaced that facing him felt like confronting a creature, not a human.

Erpia’s legs gave out, and she collapsed back onto the sofa.

“You of all people should know exactly how I ended up like this.”

The voice dripping with resentment was unmistakably Jeremy’s.

Everything had gone wrong—terribly wrong.

The poison meant for Celia had been consumed by her own son, Jeremy.

“You sent a knight named Ben to feed me this poison? I, like a fool, swallowed the honeyed drink you supposedly sent without suspecting a thing!”

Jeremy’s left cheek twisted as his lips moved.

Erpia felt the world spin before her eyes.

She wailed in despair.

“No, Jeremy! I could never do such a thing to my own son!”

“Then where is Ben, your knight, at this moment?”

Erpia felt her heart drop like a stone.

Ben still had not arrived.

Yet, Jeremy had just said Ben was the one who gave him the poison.

To anyone, the situation pointed unmistakably to her as the culprit.

‘Could Ben be trying to put me in this predicament?’

After over twenty years of loyal service, how could he betray her just as Jeremy was about to ascend the throne?

Erpia’s eyes bulged as if they might pop out.

‘When did this start?’

Betrayal made her head throb. She bit her lip until blood flowed.

Jeremy sneered at Erpia, who sat in shock, unable to utter a word.

“Mother, why is it that Ben hasn’t shown his face at all? Did you perhaps order him to do this and then secretly send him away?”

Erpia stared wide-eyed, denying his words.

“How dare you question your own mother like this! How deeply I love you!”

“Every detail—the handwriting of your letter, the honeyed drink—was identical! Will you still deny it after this?”

Erpia’s face turned deathly pale at Jeremy’s words.

“Someone… someone must have imitated me. They’re trying to drive a wedge between you and me! Where is that letter now?”

“Ben, your knight, must have it. I handed it to him the moment I confirmed it was in your handwriting, then drank the honeyed drink.”

Contempt flashed in Jeremy’s eyes.

“One last question: Where is Ben, your personal knight, right now?”

Erpia felt her breath choke off, as if madness was closing in.

Faithful Ben—why would he disobey her order to poison Celia and instead harm Jeremy?

Everything fit together too perfectly, as if someone had scripted it all.

There were too many oddities to believe Ben acted alone.

At this moment, the only person who could possibly help Erpia was Ileon, from the same Gredrick ducal family.

Ileon—the one who had provided the poison, the root of all this.

Ileon might know something.

“I… I must meet Duke Gredrick immediately.”

As Erpia tried to leave, Jeremy seized her wrist with crushing force.

“Mother, I am asking you now.”

“Jeremy! Rationally, a mother could never do such a thing to her son!”

“Then look me straight in the eyes and say it. Why won’t you look at my face?”

Unhappy that she kept avoiding his gaze, Jeremy tightened his grip on her wrist.

“Huuh! Jeremy, I am your mother. I cherish you more than my own life—why would I ever do such a thing?”

Even as Erpia pleaded for sympathy, Jeremy refused to release her wrist.

“Do you find me repulsive too, Mother? Is my face so horrifying that you can’t bear to look at it?”

Gasping for breath, Erpia forced herself to look into Jeremy’s face.

Within the twisted visage, his violet eyes—so like her own—were filled with madness.

Just one glance made Erpia’s stomach churn.

She covered her mouth with her free hand.

“Urk!”

Jeremy’s eyes darkened at the sight.

He released her wrist and whispered coldly,

“From today onward, I have no mother.”

“…J-Jeremy?”

“When I ascend the throne, you will be the first to be deposed.”

With that, Jeremy turned away.

Erpia clung to his body, wailing, but he coldly shrugged her off and left without looking back.

“Jeremy!”

Erpia’s anguished cry echoed through the hall. Her fingernails, buried in the carpet, trembled violently.

The palace was too vast to easily remember its layout.

Celia carefully retraced her memory and arrived near Dietrich’s mansion.

She passed a few knights and ministers along the way, but perhaps due to the spreading news of Jeremy’s disfigurement, they seemed too preoccupied to pay her any attention.

Dietrich’s mansion, composed of stone domes and pointed spires, was grand, yet it felt alien compared to the golden, marble-built palace with its countless halls.

‘Certainly, it was granted by the Emperor.’

Granting a dukedom yet building a residence within the palace grounds instead of an actual estate.

She thought it tasteless.

Even barons, the lowest rank of nobility, possessed their own baronies, yet Dietrich, a duke, had no territory of his own.

‘They pity him? How laughable.’

Celia chuckled bitterly.

Who was pitying whom now?

Even if it was an empty title, he had risen to become Commander of the Imperial Knights by his own strength.

‘What does Dietrich hope to achieve by using me?’

Did he wish to destroy Abelon, just as she did?

If so, and if he truly meant it when he whispered at dawn that the Three Dukes were his true enemies—

‘In that case, I’d be happy to be used.’

They shared the same goal, and he was the only one who could possibly heal her dying body. Celia had no reason not to ally with Dietrich.

‘How extensive is his healing ability?’

Holding Dietrich’s hand calmed her anxiety, and when they kissed, vitality seemed to flow into her.

‘…A kiss.’

Recalling the kiss made her feel strange, especially since she didn’t fully trust him.

Celia shook her head, trying to dispel the endless thoughts.

‘Dietrich uses me, so I’ll use him in return. What does a mere kiss matter?’

Lost in thought, Celia suddenly realized she was standing before Dietrich’s mansion.

At the entrance stood a man she had seen a few times passing by—standing tall and guarding the gate.

From the streaks of gray in his hair and the wrinkles around his eyes, he appeared to be about fifty.

‘Dietrich called him Anderson.’

Recognizing him as Dietrich’s right-hand man, Anderson, Celia approached him.

Anderson’s eyes widened to the size of marbles upon seeing Celia’s face.

Understandable—Celia had seen Anderson standing outside the mansion from her window before, but Anderson, busy carrying out Dietrich’s orders, had never properly seen her.

After a brief moment of surprise, Anderson quickly resumed his duty.

“What is your business?”

His blunt tone resembled Dietrich’s.

“I’ve come to see His Grace, Duke Calypso.”

“His Grace is not currently at the mansion.”

Celia frowned. She had assumed he would naturally be here—where could he have gone in the midst of this chaos?

“May I know where he is? I have something to convey to him.”

“His Grace is…”

Anderson trailed off. At the same time, a coat was gently draped over Celia’s shoulders.