“Your Majesty! I offer you my sincerest congratulations!”

Immediately after the coronation, Marquis Tailo, the head of the high officials, bowed deeply before Ileon Gredrick.

“I always knew this day would come.”

Ileon looked down at the marquis’s nearly bald head and asked,

“What is the current sentiment among the people?”

“The coronation of Your Majesty has turned the entire nation into a festival. The death of the royal family is as if it never mattered to them.”

Everything was unfolding exactly as Ileon had anticipated.

Holding the coronation the very next day after the royal family’s funeral was also meant to suppress public suspicion and discontent.

Had Ileon taken the throne while the royal family still lived, many would have rebelled against him for breaking his oath never to claim the crown.

But now that the entire royal bloodline was dead, Ileon ascending the throne was not rebellion—it was heroism.

There were those like Balt who harbored resentment toward him, but reversing the overwhelming public support he now enjoyed was nearly impossible.

He could have chosen to frame Dietrich Calypso for the royal family’s murder and other crimes, then locked him away in prison—but Ileon did not do so.

Because his way was to give hope, then snatch it away.

When one believes escape is possible, yet is already trapped and dying.

When what one believed was hope turns out to be despair, merely wrapped in the name of hope.

Ileon enjoyed seeing that desperate, cornered expression on people’s faces.

But he knew Dietrich wouldn’t even blink if thrown into prison.

So he offered various choices—never expecting he would choose to stay close to his own younger sister.

‘That obsessive-compulsive fool would sooner abandon her than make that choice. I was certain he’d never pick it.’

Apparently, Celia Brillion meant more to Dietrich than he had anticipated.

“What do you intend to do about Celia Brillion and Duke Calypso?”

At Marquis Tailo’s words, a faint smile touched Ileon’s lips.

Yet due to his short-cropped hair, even his smile now appeared cold and cruel.

His lips curled upward, but within his sharp, piercing eyes, the pale gaze held a razor’s edge.

The saintly façade was gone—this was the true face of an emperor. The marquis swallowed hard and spoke.

“Duke Calypso is problematic, but especially that wretched girl Celia—she insolently ran off in the middle of Your Majesty’s coronation…”

“Marquis.”

Ileon cut him off.

“There are many ears listening. Lower your voice.”

“My apologies. I got too carried away…”

Ileon gripped the marquis’s shoulder.

The old noble’s gaze shifted to the hand—smooth, unblemished, yet bearing the strength of hardened calluses.

For a brief moment, he felt the pale eyes beneath Ileon’s ash-gray hair freeze like ice.

“I’ll see you later. I have important matters now.”

Ileon’s hand dropped away.

‘He has finally attained the throne he so desperately desired.’

After parting with Marquis Tailo, Ileon entered the imperial chamber and slowly ran his hand over the golden throne.

‘Why do I feel so uneasy? As if I’ve forgotten something crucial.’

Ileon narrowed his eyes.

No one dared question his ascension to the emperorship.

Arthur had cleaned up the aftermath flawlessly, and Ileon had masterfully manipulated public opinion.

‘Even so.’

Something still troubled him.

At the same time, Celia’s voice automatically replayed in his mind.

—I’ll be taking my leave now. It was less entertaining than I expected.

The woman who had boldly declared his coronation uninteresting.

—The Duke isn’t a good person.

Not a good person. It was the first time in his life he’d ever been called that.

Those worth tormenting are enjoyable.

Ileon smiled, eyes closed. His short hair accentuated sharp, defined features.

Perhaps that was why his smile now felt cruel, unlike before.

After much hesitation, Dietrich approached Celia’s door and knocked.

Knock knock.

No answer came from within.

“Celia.”

Dietrich called her name softly.

He wanted to apologize.

Looking back, it was clearly his fault for making such a unilateral decision without consulting her.

He hadn’t considered her position at all.

From the beginning, he had only sought to use her.

Under the pretense of protecting her, shamelessly declaring he would treat her as his master, he had brought Celia—someone with supernatural abilities—to his side.

That weakness had now come back to haunt him, entirely his own doing.

For Celia, there had been no other real choice but him.

And yet, knowing that, he still tried to use her.

“I need to talk to you, Celia.”

Dietrich called her name again, but beyond the door, silence reigned, as still as a tomb.

Worried, Dietrich pushed the door open.

His gaze fell upon Celia, curled up like a shrimp on the white bed.

In the vast room, only the quiet sound of her breathing could be heard.

Dietrich approached the bed and called her name.

“Celia, are you asleep?”

Celia didn’t stir at all.

Unable to tell whether she was awake or not, Dietrich leaned closer to examine her.

Her thick eyelashes rested downward, and her breathing was steady, not irregular.

Celia was deeply, profoundly asleep.

So deeply that she couldn’t even hear him calling.

A gentle smile touched Dietrich’s lips.

At the same time, concern filled his heart as he looked down at her with worried eyes.

Had someone else entered this room uninvited—

People with powerful abilities have a terrifying allure.

Whether they want it or not.

That was why he felt he had to protect her.

Dietrich’s healing ability had no effect on Celia’s power.

Yet, Dietrich realized he was gradually being drawn to her.

It wasn’t polite to secretly watch someone asleep.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, Dietrich pulled the blanket over her.

Celia’s expression softened, becoming more peaceful.

Dietrich found himself reaching out to stroke her cheek, but stopped just before touching her.

“……”

He withdrew his outstretched hand.

Wasn’t he no different from the Crown Prince who lusted after her—or from himself?

He had no right to judge anyone.

That night, Lady Reina had summoned him to her private chambers.

In exchange for her body, she demanded Celia’s life be spared.

But was that truly what Celia wanted?

Perhaps deep down, he had hoped she would tell him to stop.

After making the decision on his own, he now wished she would stop him.

‘I really am garbage.’

Dietrich mocked himself. He didn’t even deserve the right to protect Celia.

To Celia, he might be even more threatening than Emperor Ileon.

“You can fly far away, if you want. As much as you wish.”

Dietrich murmured low.

Having someone to protect was an annoying burden, he used to think.

But worse than that was developing improper desires toward someone you were supposed to protect.

Dietrich carefully rose to his feet, careful not to wake her.

But a faint voice caught his ankle like a tether.

“Don’t… go.”

Instead of stepping away, Dietrich froze in place.

“Don’t leave me alone…”

Her voice, thick with tears, was so sorrowful it pierced the listener’s heart.

“M-Mom… Dad… don’t leave me. Don’t go and leave me alone. There’s nothing left for me…”

“……”

“I don’t need this ability. An ability that couldn’t even protect Mom and Dad…”

A single tear slipped from Celia’s closed eyes, trailing down her cheek.

“If I don’t take revenge… who will? Mom… Dad… our people… how can they rest in peace? I have to do it… with my own strength…”

Celia bit her lower lip, quietly sobbing, overcome with sorrow.

“I… miss you…”

Dietrich looked down at Celia, who was speaking in her sleep, with a complex heart.

It felt as though he had seen something he shouldn’t have.

But only for a moment. Then Dietrich sat down on the edge of her bed and spoke to her.

“You’re not alone.”

At his words, Celia’s sobbing stopped as if by magic.

“I’m here now.”

Dietrich took her hand in his.

Her small hand met his large one.

He interlaced their fingers tightly.

“So don’t cry. Okay?”

With his other hand, he gently wiped away the tears on her eyes.

This was only the second time the ever-bold and lively Celia had shown such vulnerability.

The first time was when she used her ability to the point her body was completely broken, writhing in agony.

The second time—now.

Dietrich was skilled in swordsmanship, but terrible at comforting others.

Though she was asleep, seeing Celia cry for the first time left him helpless.

Had she been pretending to be fine all this time, hiding this rotting pain inside?

The thought made his heart ache.

“I’ll stay with you. As long as you want.”

And so, he made a promise he might not be able to keep.

At his words, Celia’s crying ceased. Soon, she released steady breaths, sinking into deep sleep.

Dietrich stayed by her side, holding her hand tightly.

He remained there throughout the long night—until the next morning, when Reina, furious at his broken promise, stormed into his estate.