“I pledged to forgive even a Celestial Guardian if they appeared. If the one who appeared was a Celestial Guardian, should I forgive him?”
Celestial Guardian. Forgiveness.

Was that the meaning I believed in all this time? Or…

“…!”

Suddenly, Hersis sat up.

In the darkness, his golden eyes flickered like will-o’-the-wisps.

“Could it be, Liz? So…”

Scattered fragments seemed to come together.

Due to the predestined future or a book, Liz was cautious of Ishaar. There might have been a part that portrayed Ishaar as a traitor because he aspired to make Ishaar a ruler in the Duchy, and Liz had cautioned him.

“How about making Ishaar a lord in the Grand Duchy?”

So, Hersis was sure that Liz had also made such a suggestion.

Ishaar must have thought Liz desired that. Or perhaps it was written in the book she claimed to have seen.

“Liz, you misunderstood.”

Although the printed Ishaar may have desired the independence of the Kingdom of Valdemion, the living Ishaar wished for Liz.

And that could make people act irrationally more than grand aspirations.

Especially for a pure human like Ishaar, who had never felt forbidden desires.

“But you better not know. Liz.”

Because if she knew that the reason for betrayal was himself, she would surely suffer.

Hersis stood up. It was time to do what he had just thought of.

The makeshift sleeping quarters’ door opened slowly, then closed.

The light seeping through the door crack made this side of the world even darker and more silent.

All the courtiers were puzzled.

Their returned master had a more dismal look than when he was escorted to prison. Was it because the tension had eased, or was it because it hadn’t sunk in yet?

As everyone watched, Ishaar spoke.

“Will you bring me a glass of rum?”

“Yes… Your Highness.”

The butler quietly followed orders. He placed a glass of rum with ice in front of Ishaar and stepped back.

Ishaar raised the glass and took a sip.

Normally, he would have wrinkled his brow at the strong alcoholic scent, but not today.

At some point, Hersis had mentioned that the alcohol tasted sweet.

“Do you have a problem with your sense of taste?”

Ishaar didn’t believe him then. But now he did. He believed and still remained.

Compared to the bitterness of life, alcohol was sweet.

He downed the glass in one go and exhaled a long sigh.

The scent of alcohol lingered in his breath.

He felt like his blood was flowing ten times faster than usual. It took less than three seconds for the blood sent from his heart to reach his toes. It was a sensation of awakening, and his body and thoughts felt like they belonged to someone else.

Then, looking back on past mistakes became much easier.

“You’ve worked hard all this time. It must have been tough, right?”

Watching Hersis appear in the execution ground, proving his innocence, and patting him on the shoulder, Ishaar felt the weight of his actions for the first time.
“Do not fear death.”

Even if there hadn’t been a letter from the Empress, would he have rejected the Grand Duke’s hand? No. He lightly tried to dismiss it, thinking that nothing would happen with over a hundred military men.

But did nothing really happen because of that? Did he want to believe that nothing happened?

Guilt pressed down on his shoulders. So, he immediately kneeled in front of Hersis.

“If I had taken the Grand Duke’s hand, would you still keep me by your side?”

Though he hadn’t actually taken it, the mere thought of trying to hold it felt like betrayal. So, he said that. However, Hersis…

“Even if you took the Grand Duke’s hand, I would still keep you by my side. I won’t ask for your guilt for something that I might have done for the country.”

He was too kind.

So kind that he didn’t know his step-uncle tormented him, and now his cousin was trying to betray him. All because of his woman.

“I loved Empress Hwangu.”

“…”

The silence was colder than the winter wind. Time seemed to freeze around him.

Soon, the sound of a drawn blade roared like thunder.

He thought he wouldn’t be afraid since he had prepared for death.

But when the sharp edge pressed against his shoulder, he felt his shoulder tense involuntarily.

He felt a fear so great that waiting for the sword to fall under the guillotine seemed like a better option.

Hersis’s anger was to that extent.

As much as he could dismiss any resolution he made, even if he begged pitifully for forgiveness now, Hersis was a man as terrifying as a thunderbolt when angered.

But as good as Hersis was at hiding his confusion, Ishaar was equally skilled at hiding his fear.

He bravely prepared for death.

In the end, the Emperor’s decree intervened, but…

Ishaar brought the cut-glass to his lips again. But only a few drops of cold water flowed into his mouth.

“Oh, right.”

He had forgotten what he had just downed. It seemed like he needed another drink or two.

Ishaar grabbed the thread. He was thinking of asking for a whole ice bucket and a bottle of rum.

“Your Highness.”

But before he could pull the string, the butler entered.

“Your Highness, a letter has arrived.”

The butler presented the letter. It had the imperial seal stamped on it.

It was the moment the intoxication receded.

“Go home and wait quietly.”

Ishaar remembered Hersis’s words.

Although he knew it meant waiting for his own decision, not a summons from the court, he didn’t expect it to be this fast.

Ishaar broke the wax seal and opened the letter.

The two sentences written at the top forcefully penetrated his mind.

“Leave the capital, as soon as possible.”