The Tyrant's Terminally-Ill Childhood Friend (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 3

It was the first thing Jurgen said inside the carriage carrying Lowell.

Lowell’s father had been confirmed to have shown defiance toward the imperial court, and as punishment, the Hessen estate had been burned down—Jurgen’s explanation was astonishingly flat. There was no twist whatsoever. Thus, nothing of it truly reached Lowell.

Yet what lay before Lowell’s eyes was undeniably real.

“The fire is merely an example set for other nobles—a warning that not only the Hessen family but everyone connected to them will not escape death.”

At Jurgen’s calm voice, Lowell tightly gripped the fabric of her skirt resting on her thighs.

“So you’re hiding me…?”

“Yes. If it becomes known that a member of House Hessen still lives, they’ll surely come to kill you.”

Lowell closed her mouth again—or rather, clenched her teeth. Only when her jaw began to ache could she finally speak once more.

“I can’t understand it.”

Her voice, trembling faintly as it fell from her deeply bowed head, dripped with tears onto the back of her hand clutching her skirt.

“Father wasn’t that kind of man. Even if he were guilty of some crime, there was no need to kill all those other people. So many of them… all of them…”

Lowell had loved her family and everyone in the Hessen estate. Even if they hadn’t expected much from her due to her illness, even if they occasionally showed signs of weariness during her long convalescence, she could not deny how much she had received from them.

She could vividly recall the last scene she’d witnessed before leaving.

[“I hope it turns out well for you, my daughter.”] [“Your older brothers are arriving tomorrow, so by the time you return, the whole family will be together again after so long.”] [“Miss, if you get hungry on your journey, please take this. It’s a sandwich generously spread with your favorite jelly.”]

Her father’s worried expression, her mother’s forced smile, the nanny who carefully packed small necessities for her, and the maids who would sit beside her on sleepless nights reading aloud from books.

For Lowell, who couldn’t step outside, the Hessen estate had been her entire world—and everyone within it had been her family.

Yet all of it had burned to ashes in an instant.

Because her father had allegedly defied the imperial court, because he was deemed guilty, and because they needed to make an example.

None of those reasons made any sense to Lowell. No words could ever justify why they had to die.

Overwhelmed by sorrow and injustice, Lowell wept openly in the carriage for a long while.

It was the day her world burned.

[This is the timeline separator]

Ten years passed.

“Do you really have to enter the imperial palace?”

At the voice from behind her, Lowell, who had been about to lower her veil, suddenly turned her head.

Before her stood her older brother, René. Though his silver hair was neatly combed back and his face still held the kind smile she remembered, something was different today—his entire countenance was clouded with unmistakable sorrow.

“You can still back out now. It’s not too late.”

“…I don’t understand why you’re so worried, René. Didn’t the Emperor demand a noblewoman with jet-black hair as his bride?”

Lowell retorted, deliberately sweeping back the strands of hair visible beneath her veil.

Hair as black as ebony, impossible to dye into any other shade.

Dressed in a pure white gown like a room filled with blooming flowers, and veiled in white, Lowell stood out as breathtakingly beautiful even without any ornamentation—perhaps because the black hair spilling from beneath her veil created a striking contrast against the white dress.

Even amidst a crowd dazzlingly adorned to the point of stealing one’s breath, her presence—calm and sharp as a frozen river—would inevitably draw every eye.

“I’ve met the condition, so there’s nothing to fault. Don’t worry.”

“But you know that condition itself is absurd! How is it any different from demanding fresh grapes in the dead of winter?”

At Lowell’s quiet anger, René finally frowned and rubbed his face.

Just a few days ago, an emergency had been declared among all nobles.

The Emperor, who until now had stubbornly refused not only an empress but even a consort, had suddenly announced his intention to take a bride.

However, the bride had to be a noblewoman whose hair was entirely as black as night. Anyone who brought a bride failing to meet this condition would be executed.

“A noblewoman with black hair…? That’s ridiculous.”

In the Belf Empire, hair color was proof of bloodline. Those deemed of noble lineage were born with light-colored hair, regardless of gender.

“There’s never been a single noble with black hair before. This is…”

“Why not, René? There was one.”

At Lowell’s retort, René sighed. She was right. There had indeed been exactly one known noblewoman with black hair.

“If you mean the Emperor’s first love, she’s already dead—executed for treason.”

“…Right. Of course.”

“Exactly. So the Emperor has effectively declared he won’t accept any bride unless he can bring back the dead. And if you become his bride… you’ll have to bear the full brunt of his fury. There’s only so much I can protect you from inside the palace. You…”

“Enough, René.”

Lowell, who had been silently listening, finally spoke.

“I’ll be fine.”

Unlike René, who couldn’t hide his worry, Lowell remained composed.

Naturally—after all, entering the palace wasn’t forced upon her; it was her own choice. After staring at her with a pained expression for a long moment, René asked,

“…Aren’t you afraid of death?”

“Well… it’d be a lie to say I’m not scared of dying. But you know as well as I do—my life isn’t going to last much longer anyway.”

“But…”

“I should go now.”

Before René could stop her again, Lowell turned and walked out the door. Outside, an elaborately decorated carriage awaited her.

As she climbed in and gazed through the rattling window, she thought,

‘If I ride this carriage… will I ever be able to return?’

René’s worry wasn’t unfounded. Lowell, too, had heard many stories.

The current Emperor, Peter von der Leyen Belf.

He was a tyrant who had ascended the throne after purging countless people—including his own father.

It was already common knowledge that he harbored a deep, visceral hatred toward women.

‘All the women who tried to seduce the Emperor ended up dead.’

The reason was simple: the Emperor couldn’t forget his first love, who had died.

Knowing this, women had dyed their hair black and imitated his lost love to deceive him—and paid for it with their lives.

‘And now, perhaps, it’ll be my fate too.’

Afraid of death? Of course she was. But fighting fear of death was something Lowell faced every single day.

The reason was simple: she was terminally ill.

‘The physician said six months at best.’

Each time she suffered a seizure, each time her fever soared unbearably high, she felt the terror of death. For someone whose skin burned at the slightest breeze, the fear of never seeing another sunrise was as natural as her own shadow.

Above all, she had something she needed to accomplish—even if it meant facing death.

Namely, killing the Emperor.

Ten years ago, Jurgen had hidden her identity and brought her to the capital.

He’d offered her enough money to live quietly in hiding, but she refused and pleaded with him instead.

[“Please take me in. Not as your adopted daughter—I just want the chance to repay your kindness by staying at your side.”]

After much deliberation, Jurgen adopted her, and thus she became “Anette Martinek,” not “Lowell Hessen.”

She’d given up the chance to live out her remaining days in peace for one reason alone.

‘I will have my revenge.’

Revenge against the von der Leyen imperial house that had burned her world to the ground.

Before that resolve, ten years meant nothing. Both the Emperor who had torched Hessen and Jurgen, who had made her Anette, were now dead. Time had changed much, yet Lowell’s thirst for vengeance had not dimmed in the slightest.

‘It doesn’t matter who the Emperor is.’

As long as he bore the hated von der Leyen name, that was enough. If only she could sharpen her fury to a razor’s edge and pierce through their throats.

For that alone, Lowell had chosen to walk straight into the lion’s den. From the moment she decided, she held no other regrets.

‘…Well, perhaps one.’

As she stepped down from the carriage and walked through the corridor adorned with white flowers, Lowell suddenly recalled the past—a boy who had once held her hand and locked eyes with her.

[“Wait for me. I’ll definitely come back to you… and save you.”]

Yes, Peter. You’re my only regret.

‘…I always hoped we’d meet again someday.’

Now it was a dream she could never fulfill. Having entered this place, all that awaited her was the Emperor’s death—and her own.

At the end of the dim corridor, as Lowell halted her steps, a servant slowly opened the door.

And beyond it, the Emperor surely waited.

Stepping inside, Lowell reaffirmed her resolve.

‘I must seize any opportunity I can.’

If needed, she could feign affection or grovel on the floor. She had no intention of staying silent. She would do anything—anything at all—if it meant making the Emperor drop his guard long enough for her to drive a blade into his throat.

But the moment Lowell entered the room and saw the Emperor standing there,

she felt every vow she’d made instantly dissolve into nothingness.

Her mind went blank, her lips parted numbly, and a single word spilled out, filling her thoughts completely.

“…Peter?”

It was a reunion she’d never expected.