“Even at that moment, I couldn’t believe it. It would have been unbelievable even after ten, a hundred readings. How could I believe it?”

The horrifying fact that my uncle had slowly poisoned my parents over a long period, and planned to stage my death as an assassination or an accident.

His kindly gaze, his tender touch as he personally treated my injuries during our duels. How could such gestures come from someone who wished me dead?

I thought it had to be one of two things.

Either the document was forged, or my mother’s mental state had deteriorated due to illness.

“Surprisingly, my mother had foreseen even this.”

“I am more lucid now than ever, Her. Think carefully. Haven’t you felt something off about your uncle?”

Then a faint memory surfaced.

The murderous glint that occasionally flashed in my uncle’s eyes as he relentlessly pushed me, supposedly for my own good.

Hersis had definitely seen it and felt it. He just didn’t want to admit it.

“Whether he intended to kill me during our duels, or if it was an uncontrollable urge that surfaced, I can’t be sure… What’s important is that he doesn’t lack the will to eliminate me.”

Yet, Hersis still had a corner of belief.

After all, he had survived this stubbornly, and recently even defeated his uncle in a sword duel. Perhaps now he had given up, at least a little…

“Don’t let your guard down, Her. Your uncle has always accomplished what he set his mind to since childhood. I am paying dearly for underestimating that persistence.”

Not long after, he was able to confirm that his mother’s worries had not been misplaced.

‘This year’s spear horse competition will be a bit different.’

‘How… do you mean?’

‘We’re skipping the ceremony.’

Skipping the ceremony meant forgoing the act of removing the helmet and paying respects to the audience. In other words, the competitors would not know each other’s identities during the match.
“No matter how equal our positions may be in the arena, it’s still not easy for a commoner to give it their all against a high noble. Especially against my lord, the fear of retribution would make it impossible to bring him down. Therefore, I request an anonymous match to ensure fairness. Please consider it, Your Highness.”

From the glint in his eyes, Hersis could tell that his uncle was confident his proposal would not be rejected.

Indeed, it wasn’t unreasonable for him to be so certain.

The nephew he knew would never pass up an opportunity to gain double the honor by competing solely on skill, disregarding his status as Crown Prince.

Especially back then, Hersis was fifteen and believed himself to be the best, having defeated his great master just a few days prior.

“Do as you wish, Uncle.”

Hersis knew all too well that a death occurring during a horseback joust was not considered murder but rather a defeat. And along with that, the logic that the loser was the weakling, ignoring the times.

“I understood all of my uncle’s intentions but agreed nonetheless.”

Half of it was because of other plans, and the other half was due to his desire to fight his uncle with all his might, even if it resulted in death.

Duke Montaner had won the horseback joust five times, and Hersis had never beaten him with a spear.

Even if he had won once with a sword… No, he couldn’t even be sure if that was a real win. Perhaps his uncle had lost on purpose to catch him off guard.

Two feelings waged a fierce battle within Hersis.

To fight fair and square, win or lose. Or… to cowardly run away.

“In the end… as you can see, I chose the latter.”

Around the time when everyone’s attention was focused on the arena and the guards were relaxed, he fled from the imperial palace.

“You must become the Emperor, Her.”

To become Emperor, he first had to survive.

Victorious glory wouldn’t guarantee his life, so it was the obvious choice.

Or maybe, he was truly scared…

“……I see.”

Unsure of what to say, Liz simply said that.

“I didn’t want to hear this.”

Sharing these dark memories weighed heavily on Liz’s heart.

She knew that Duke Montaner had tried to kill him, but she didn’t know the full circumstances.
How fragmentary the words in the book were. Liz had no idea how much suffering was omitted in that single sentence, ‘An ambitious uncle sought to slander his nephew for the throne.’

She had only thought that the trials given to the protagonist were merely essential settings to highlight his existence. How scared must he have been who actually went through those trials.

With a past life experience of being discarded by a manipulative man, and a childhood memory of being neglected by her mother after reincarnation, Liz felt suddenly ashamed for thinking her life was the most miserable in the world.

Her heart felt constricted, and Liz dropped her head.

She didn’t know what to say. She tried to think of words of comfort, but all that came to mind were utterly banal phrases.

‘Hang in there. You still survived, didn’t you?’

If Lilia, who was good with words, were here, she would know exactly what to do in this situation.

She would know how to comfort his heart, how to free him from the wounds of his past even just a little.

Sigh.

Feeling restless, Liz kicked at the gravel and let out a breath.

Then, suddenly, Kain’s hand gently cradled her chin and lifted it. He then spoke, tracing a smooth curve on his lips.

“Would you like to hear more? There’s more to the story.”

No, I don’t want to.

That’s how she would have responded if nothing more had been said.

“It’s about you.”