Whoa, you startled me. What is this?

This is a mirror, isn’t it?

So what?

Maxium, who had been fussing over something obvious, suddenly widened his eyes enormously, as if he had uncovered a tremendous secret.

But I can’t see myself.

…What?

Frowning incredulously at the corners of my eyes, I watched as Maxium stretched both arms out to point at the mirror.

Look! Lady Latieana isn’t visible either!

What on earth are you talking about?

Even when I do this! And that! And this way too! It doesn’t reflect anything at all. A mirror should normally show your reflection, right?

Maxium was making a V sign, waving his arms in the air, sticking out his hips—it was pure chaos.

Dante, who had been standing behind the mirror, finally came forward and nodded.

Indeed. This doesn’t seem to be an ordinary mirror.

Watching Dante and Maxium’s antics, I slowly shifted my gaze toward the mirror.

My own face was reflected very clearly.

My usual pink hair, my blue eyes—everything appeared perfectly distinct.

And, just as they had said, the reflections of the two standing beside me were not visible at all.

What is this? Why only me…?

***

It was early morning as dawn broke, the same hour as always.

Killian, seated deeply in his office chair with his back pressed against it, had eyes darkened with gloom.

It had been over a week since he learned everything that had transpired at Turn Checkmate House.

“I’m sorry. I was wrong. I’m truly sorry.”

After everyone had left, Ciela tearfully pleaded with Killian.

Killian stared expressionlessly down at Ciela, who trembled violently, terrified and pale.

“Killian… please. Won’t you?”

When he gave no reaction, Ciela cautiously grasped the sleeve of his jacket.

The golden buttons reflected the light, gleaming sharply like awls. Once again, Killian gave no response to Ciela clinging to his arm.

“Killian, I’m sorry… just this once. Please forgive me.”

Though the situation was slightly different, this was something he had imagined many times—and now it was unfolding right before his eyes.

The woman who had reappeared before him was crying, clutching him, begging desperately.

Slowly, Killian recalled the conversations exchanged between Latieana and Ciela.

What schemes his mother, Empress Henzela, had plotted—and with what state of mind Ciela had agreed to participate.

As he did so, his expression hardened into something terrifyingly cold.

Sensing the atmosphere—no matter how much she begged, he would not forgive her—Ciela released his sleeve and steadied her breath.

“I didn’t lie about everything.”

Her lips trembled faintly.

“You yourself said it: if you don’t have feelings yet, you’d wait until they arise…”

Ha. He had indeed said that. A hollow, mocking chuckle escaped him.

That wasn’t said because he genuinely believed Ciela didn’t like him.

Emotions don’t work that way.

Even without a direct confession, her actions and glances at the time made it clear.

Whenever their eyes met, her cheeks flushed crimson, and she shyly averted her gaze.

Thus, Killian had been fairly certain: even if she wasn’t ready to confess outright, she held feelings for him.

That face—he had longed so deeply to see it again. The woman who used to smile at him like warm sunlight.

“Was the Ciela I remember really this kind of person?”

He was deeply shocked by her declaration that she would be fine becoming Edan’s consort, directed toward Latieana.

At the very least, the Ciela I knew would never say such a thing.

Had she changed—or had I, the one looking at her, changed?

His cruelly gleaming red eyes held not a trace of sympathy.

Killian’s mind drifted back to words his mother, Empress Henzela, had once spoken to him.

It was the moment he had opened his heart to Ciela and declared to the Empress his intention to marry her.

She had been a princess sent arbitrarily from a minor kingdom, so he had fully expected opposition.

But the Empress had smiled most kindly.

“If the Crown Prince so desires, then it shall be so. What relevance do my own conditions hold?”

It was almost unsettling.

Yet, knowing exactly what kind of person his mother was, Killian remained on guard.

He immediately sensed Ciela was lying when she claimed she liked Edan. At first, he let it pass—perhaps his mother was scheming behind the scenes.

“Crown Prince, how about scheduling the wedding with Princess Ciela for next April? The kingdom should have regained stability by then. Or—no, perhaps it would be better to hasten the marriage, helping her kingdom stabilize as the next Crown Princess?”

Yet the Empress encouraged the marriage without so much as a flicker of expression.

Then, the second incident: Ciela emerged from Edan’s room, clutching her slipping dress and weeping.

In that instant, he lost all rationality.

He knew Edan disliked women, but in Killian’s eyes, Ciela was beautiful and genuinely popular among men. He was well aware knights had often stolen glances at her, since their relationship had never been publicly acknowledged.

Even Edan, who supposedly hated women—he briefly considered it possible.

So he asked:

“Edan, speak. What happened?”

No answer came. Instead, a surge of betrayal toward his younger brother overwhelmed him.

He had spent his entire life hearing that Edan would one day stab him in the back. Yet he had never once wavered in his trust… and now, that entire foundation crumbled in an instant.

Amid the turmoil, Ciela delivered the final blow, as if to confirm his worst fears:

“Your Highness, I beg you—I wish to marry Prince Edan. He said he would grant my wish if I truly desired it.”

Now, reflecting on it, those words were meaningless, goddamn nonsense.

Years had passed, and Killian was no longer the emotional man he had been then.

Still, one question lingered: Why, of all people, did Edan choose to betray me by stealing the woman I loved? It was a thought that haunted him from time to time.

“Shall we get married?”

“Damn it, brother, are you insane? The conditions don’t match. Find a better woman.”

“There’s no woman better than Ciela. I’ve already sent a support unit to her kingdom.”

“You’re serious?”

“Why, brat? Jealous?”

“I can’t understand it at all. I despise women. Still, if she’s the woman you love, I’ll support you. Whatever you choose, I’m always on your side.”

Why had the man who said those words done such a thing? It remained an unsolved mystery.

And now, finally, the answer had come—from Ciela’s own lips.

“He knew everything yet still sided with me! He helped me! For your sake…!”

She had spoken without understanding the meaning herself.

Strangely, despite all his prior agonizing, Killian instantly grasped the meaning of her words.

“I want to gain power quickly.”

“Don’t rush, brother. An Emperor doesn’t have to be ruthless. You could become a kind ruler like Father.”

“But that’s not what Mother wants.”

He had been building strength because he wished to ascend the throne swiftly. Things hadn’t gone as planned, but he genuinely wanted to ease Edan’s burdens. Still, those words weren’t spoken expecting anything in return—he had simply confided his situation honestly.

…He had thought Edan betrayed him. For a long time, that belief never wavered.

So he had petitioned his mother to ban Edan from the temple, deliberately denying him healing and forcing him to endure pain.

“It was because of me.”

She had known exactly how to obtain what she wanted—and used Ciela as her opportunity.

Solely for his sake.

Edan had never once betrayed Killian. He had endured unjust suffering and accepted hatred—all because he wished to help Killian achieve what he desired.

“Damn it.”

Why hadn’t he realized this until now?

Killian covered his eyes with his large hands. An overwhelming, indescribable guilt for all he had done to Edan crashed over him without end.

***

“His Highness Crown Prince Killian Dietrich has arrived.”

The door to the Emperor’s audience chamber opened. Sunlight pouring through the large windows dazzled the eyes.

As Killian stepped inside, his gaze brushed past Edan before he bowed respectfully toward the Emperor.

“I humbly greet His Majesty Emperor Julius, the Sun of Alkedania.”

When he straightened, he looked toward his father seated upon the throne.

The Emperor’s complexion was so terrible he could barely receive proper greetings. Stressed by the sudden commotion, instead of acknowledging the bow, he sighed deeply, his face heavy with worry.

Killian turned and offered the same formal bow to the Empress.

“I humbly greet Her Majesty Empress Henzela, the Star of Alkedania.”

The Empress, too, gave no verbal reply—instead, she pressed her lips tightly together.

Ignoring this, Killian swiftly turned his body and fixed his gaze upon Ciela, standing before the Empress.

Seeing Killian’s cold gaze land swiftly upon Ciela and then withdraw, the Empress slammed her cane down with a thud.

“Crown Prince!”

Killian replied calmly.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“You unilaterally suspended the council and cut off all communication for two days—then suddenly appear and do this? Is this how I raised you? As a Crown Prince…?!”

Knowing only those who understood her temper were present, the Empress unleashed the words she had restrained in a rapid barrage. But she couldn’t finish her sentence—because of the faint smirk curling at Killian’s lips.

“Yes. Mother raised me exactly like this.”

Completely disregarding the Empress’s rapidly paling expression, Killian turned his gaze to the Emperor.

“Your Majesty, I formally request you reject here and now the matter of the marriage between Ciela Hestia and Prince Edan.”

“Killian Dietrich!”

The Empress, seething with rage, shouted—but Killian responded in a voice so unnervingly calm it seemed devoid of emotion.

“Mother. I currently see nothing before my eyes. So please remain silent.”