Celia Brillion stared blankly at Viscount Brillion, imprisoned within the tower.

As she gazed at the viscount, unconscious and unable to regain his senses, vivid memories from the past resurfaced.

From the status of a princess, she had suddenly fallen to the lowest depths, forced to crawl through mud and filth.

Even after arriving in Abelon, she had wandered from street to street with her face thickly smeared in dirt, terrified that someone might recognize her.

It was the viscount who had taken her in.

He had her thoroughly bathed and gave her new clothes.

At first, Celia felt a faint sense of gratitude toward the viscount for rescuing her.

But she quickly realized that this was a mistaken feeling.

In this world, no kindness came without a price.

Celia saw unmistakable desire in the viscount’s face—the kind he could not hide.

His sons were no different. They stared at her with faces dripping with lust, repeatedly licking their lips.

Hariel Brillion, the viscount’s wife, had hurled curses at her, blaming her for corrupting her own body before even reaching puberty. And her daughter, Gabriel Brillion, went even further—suggesting they abandon the debutante ball and instead hold a public courtship event to openly sell her to men.

While living in the viscount’s mansion, Celia had never owned a single thing as her own.

To them, Celia was merely an object to exploit—nothing more, nothing less.

One fortunate thing, however, was that because of this, no one ever truly understood her inner self.

‘Now that I think about it, there might have been a better way to take revenge. But I didn’t have time.’

It was ironic—her powerful innate ability had instead turned her into a terminal patient.

Truly, if people had simply left her be as they desired her, she might never have become terminally ill.

If she hadn’t used her ability, her lifespan wouldn’t have been shortened.

But then again, had she done that, she would never have met Dietrich Calypso.

She would have lived forever believing the man who destroyed her kingdom was that old, wretched emperor.

“…I’m grateful to you.”

Celia Brillion turned to the viscount slumped helplessly in the tower, her eyes curling at the corners as she smiled.

“Thanks to you, I finally know who my true enemy really is.”

Not only that, but she had also gained a companion to help destroy Abelon alongside her.

Someone who could heal her dying body, and the only person she loved enough to entrust her entire self to.

Celia turned her head toward Dietrich standing beside her.

When their eyes met, Dietrich, who had silently stood by her side, gently smiled.

“I’ll lock up the rest of your family members together in one room as soon as they’re found.”

With a bright smile, Celia said these words and then left the tower.

The moment she stepped out, the wind brushed lightly against her cheeks.

Looking up at the sky thick with dark clouds, Celia spoke.

“…What happened to Ileon Gredrick?”

“He seems to have completely fallen out with Duke Portman.”

The situation was turning against Ileon Gredrick.

“Good.”

There was very little left now. Just a short way until Abelon’s destruction.

“If it were just me, getting this far would have been impossible.”

In response to Celia’s words, Dietrich gently tucked a strand of her hair, clinging to her cheek, behind her ear.

“No. The you I know would have been perfectly capable of doing it alone.”

“But I don’t own a newspaper like you do. All I have is my own body.”

“What I have is yours, Celia.”

Celia gazed at Dietrich. When they first met, she could never have imagined him saying something like this.

The world never unfolds exactly as one expects.

Who could have known that yesterday’s enemy would become her eternal ally?

Celia allowed herself to imagine a future with Dietrich.

Traveling around as originally planned would have been nice, but Dietrich’s ambitions were far too great for that.

This was a man who had spent ten long years meticulously preparing a plan to infiltrate the imperial palace—the heart of enemy territory—after a nation’s collapse, all to destroy Abelon.

“…After Abelon falls, I think it would be good for you to establish a new nation.”

“A nation?”

“Yes. You should create a new country where people like us won’t have to suffer again. With you as king, there’d be no fear of invasion, would there?”

“A nation…”

Dietrich seemed to ponder Celia’s words carefully.

Celia studied his profile as he fell deep in thought.

His red eyes beneath black eyelashes looked like the sunset sky at dusk, or like flames burning fiercely, consuming his entire being.

It was those very eyes that had first made her unable to look away.

Noticing her gaze, Dietrich turned his head toward her.

“If that’s what you wish, then I’ll do it.”

Celia narrowed her eyes slightly and asked.

“…What is it that you want?”

“To be with you.”

Dietrich answered immediately, without hesitation.

She hadn’t asked expecting that kind of answer, yet somehow, Celia found herself smiling.

Even though nothing had truly been resolved yet.

While living with Dietrich, she had不知不觉 begun to envision a future with him.

Just as he had done.

“Since we’ve spread the news of Ileon’s atrocities in the newspaper, they’ll likely act sooner than expected.”

Dietrich continued, holding Celia’s hand.

“We’ve drowned out the false rumors calling you a witch with even louder truths. Now, it’s only a matter of time before Ileon is captured and Abelon falls.”

I hope it truly happens.

I hope the day comes soon when I can finally set down all my burdens and rest in peace.

“But will people really believe everything written in the newspaper? Before ascending the throne, Ileon was practically a symbol of Abelon.”

“Even if they don’t believe it, they’ll start questioning the truth. The greater their hopes were for the new emperor, the deeper their sense of betrayal will be.”

Dietrich’s prediction proved entirely accurate.

At first, no one believed the article about Ileon Gredrick.

But then, what was the current situation?

The Grand Cathedral had burned down, and the entire nation was in chaos. Under these circumstances, even Ileon, once seen as a symbol of Abelon, couldn’t completely escape suspicion.

People had expected their lives to improve once Ileon became emperor, but instead, only greater disorder had followed.

Suspicion quickly turned into distrust, and distrust into hatred.

The rumor that Celia was a witch still persisted.

But now, people were more likely to say that the reason the gods had sent punishment was because Ileon had broken his sworn oath that the Three Dukes would never ascend the throne—thus provoking divine wrath.

Only now, as their situation grew dire, did people belatedly begin questioning the royal family’s deaths.

The consecutive deaths of the royals couldn’t possibly be explained solely by claiming Celia was a witch.

Those who had been ready to storm the palace were thrown into confusion.

They turned to seek out the other two dukes, looking for someone to calm their fears.

“Where are Duke Portman and Duke Portman right now? What about Duke Servantes?”

“In such a crisis, how can the two pillars of Abelon do absolutely nothing?”

Arthur Servantes.

Arthur was eccentric, true, but a once-in-a-lifetime genius in magic.

His only flaw was that, unlike the previous Duke Servantes, he never distributed his inventions to the public, instead using them solely for personal adornment.

Very few knew that Arthur had already died at Dietrich Calypso’s hands.

Neither Balt Portman nor Ileon Gredrick, nor their closest retainers, had any idea of Arthur’s death.

“Even Duke Calypso himself.”

People began mentioning Dietrich. Those who bore the title of duke acted as if they had already forgotten he had been stripped of his dukedom.

“The man who protected Abelon more than anyone else now fully controls the imperial palace. In a place where merely uttering the word ‘witch’ can land you in prison, we can’t freely speak our minds.”

“…And it’s not just that. He’s even issued a decree of control. How did things come to this?”

“Is the Emperor truly imprisoned, as they say?”

No matter how hard the ignorant strained their minds, no proper answer would come.

With their leaders gone, Abelon was rapidly racing toward its downfall.

“Um… I apologize for eavesdropping, but I recently saw the Emperor by chance on the streets.”

The people, carefully avoiding the guards as they conversed, suddenly turned their attention to the unexpected intruder.

Though his face was hidden beneath a hood, his calm and dignified voice made them wait intently for his next words.

“Is that true? You saw the Emperor on the streets?”

“Yes, it was definitely the Emperor. But I’m not sure if I should say what I saw… It was too shocking.”

The man hesitated, as if reluctant to speak.

Unable to bear it, one of the listeners urged him on.

“It’s fine. Just tell us what you saw.”

Yielded to the pressure, the man finally revealed what he had witnessed.

His words left everyone present utterly speechless.