A deafening roar swept the land like a torrential downpour, paralyzing everything in its path.

It was the sound that marked the end of a long and bitter war.

Dark clouds spilled gray rain, washing away the stench of blood.

Four years of ceaseless war had stolen so much, yet still left behind a sense of unreality.

Pressing her hand against the fogged glass window, Razel gazed out over the desolate estate.

Her homeland had fallen.

The kingdom had been conquered by its enemies.

The nobles of the kingdom, once proud and distinguished, were slain by the enemy and returned to the dust.

In the midst of that unbearable reality, Razel brooded over the cruelty of what lay ahead.

‘The enemy’s cries have grown nearer… which means Ephor will be next.’

“The thought of her life ending in death sent cold tremors through her fingers.”

She bit down hard on her lip.

‘It’s okay. Everything will be all right…’

Razel had intended to escape to another place with her family once the preparations for a long journey were ready. They only had to endure until then.

‘But… why haven’t we left yet?’

It had already been two hours since the servants had left, promising to bring word once everything was ready.

By now, Razel was aware that the enemy was drawing near. How could she not notice when the resonant voices of the enemy soldiers have reached this far?

With an anxious sigh, Razel turned away from the window. 

The sight beyond the castle walls reminded her of someone. Unwelcome thoughts pressed on her mind.

That man… Is he dead after all?

Or had he, by some miracle, survive and find his place again?

That someone—whom Razel herself had pushed to the battlefield when the war first began.

Her fingers tightened around her skirt hem as she recalled him.

And then, sudden chaos crashed through the manor.

A piercing scream echoed sharply.

Razel flinched, instinctively turning towards the door.

“M-My lady! Lady Razel!”

The door swung open with a jolt, and a pale-faced maid rushed in. 

Overwhelmed by the urgent situation, she grabbed Razel’s hand, urging her outside.

“You must escape! Crumbell’s soldiers are in the lower halls…!”

“What? The enemy?! Then, what about Father? Mother?!”

Before Razel could even mention her sister, the maid’s face darkened further. 

As she was pulled down the corridor, Razel parted her trembling lips.

“Don’t tell me… Have they been captured by Crumbell’s soldiers?”

“N-No, not exactly, but…”

“Stop stammering and tell me! What happened to them?!”

Overcome by frustration and anxiety, Razel’s voice sharpened.

Only then did she realize how reckless it was to shout when enemy soldiers had already stormed the castle.

But if her family was already in danger, there was no way Razel’s fate would be different. 

Only by escaping far could she avoid a brutal end.

Yet the maid’s reply was not what she expected.

“They left first… to take refuge.”

“…What?”

“His Lordship, Her Ladyship, and the eldest young lady departed an hour ago. They had so many belongings to load that your carriage was prepared separately…”

Razel’s mind went blank.

‘They… left me behind?’

They had gone without her, forsaking her for their luggage.

Like someone given a death sentence, her vision turned white. 

It wasn’t even surprising. Razel had always been treated unfavorably compared to her sister. Yet this time, the cruelty cut too deep.

Even if they had prepared another carriage for her…

‘This is as good as being abandoned…’

Her chest threatened to burst with rage and grief, but Razel clamped her lips shut.

It was useless to throw a fit when survival was at stake.

She let the maid pull her along. Outside the back door, a small carriage was waiting.

‘Will I be able to survive, even if I ride that?’

The enemy was already here.

Filled with a sense of despair, she drew in a ragged breath.

“There’s no time, my lady! Quickly, board the carriage…!”

The maid flung open the door and shoved Razel inside.

However, not even a second later, a sinister sound echoed behind her.

A sharp slice tore through flesh, followed by a sickening wet splatter—a sound Razel had never heard before.

A muffled groan struck her ears. It was the maid’s voice, filled with agony.

Thud. 

The body collapsed. 

The copper stench of blood filled the air.

Razel froze. She felt it. Something warm had splattered across her lavender dress.

A rough and dry breath escaped her. Her heart pounded wildly, locking her body in place.

‘Someone… is behind me.’

The one who had just killed the maid.

Her teeth rattled as heavy footsteps drew near, each step pounding against her skull.

Droplets of blood dripped from a cold blade taken from the maid’s body, sharp enough to split her nerves apart.

Eventually, the footsteps halted.

The figure loomed directly behind her.

“Razel Ephor.”

Her heart lurched violently at the sound of her name.

The voice was low, so low it was impossible to mistake.

Razel turned stiffly, looking back over her shoulder.

Her wide, terrified eyes met a blood-stained helmet. 

At that moment, her legs gave out, and she fell onto the ground.

“Ah…”

Death had come for her.

Razel’s eyes met the armored figure, and she knew instantly that he was no mere soldier. He was a reaper sent to claim her life.

Pinned in place by terror, all Razel could do was look up. Beneath her, the maid’s blood pooled, soaking into Razel’s golden hair and fingers.

Then, the man moved.

Razel flinched, but instead of raising his sword, he slowly lifted his hand to remove his helmet.

Her eyes widened the moment it completely came off.

“…!”

Her breath caught, unable to speak.

“Y-you…”

Jet-black hair spilled out, and piercing blue eyes as cold as winter frost glared down at her.

He radiated the dreadful presence of a reaper, yet he was not a stranger.

He was evidence of a sin she had left behind in the past.

The man tilted his blade, lifting Razel’s fallen hair with its sharp edge. The cold steel grazed her slender neck.

Finally, his lips parted.

“It’s been a long time. You look… very surprised to see me alive.”

He drew up one corner of his mouth, as if to mock her.

The gray rain had shifted to white snow, draping the world in a ghostly silence.

Razel’s chest ached, frozen like the landscape. The blade pressed closer against her throat.

“Razel Ephor, my princess… Shall I be the one to save you, or to forsake you?”

She couldn’t even beg for her life.

The past she had buried surged up all at once.

There was no hope of surviving—none.

The sword slid along her skin, cold as death.

And yet… the strike never came.

‘Why… why isn’t anything happening?’

Razel opened her eyes. 

Her gaze met his icy blue eyes, as unbending as the winter chill.

Behind him, she noticed soldiers had gathered, waiting a few paces away. Their postures told her everything; this man commanded them.

Then, he bent down until his gaze leveled with hers.

One of his hands seized her cheeks, holding her in place.

“Sorry, but waiting quietly for death isn’t an option.”

“…?”

“Congratulations, Razel. I’ve decided to buy your fragile, miserable life.”

The life she should have lost was his to take, as though he had paid its price.

“So now, you’ll pay me back.”

“H…how…?”

Her trembling voice barely escaped her lips. The man’s reply was as sharp as ice.

“By abandoning your family, your country, everything you hold dear… You must marry me, whom you so despised.”

His lips curved into a sneer.

“I bought you, after all. For a mere pittance.”

His words were short, almost mocking, as if to repay old humiliations. 

Then, he pulled her closer and stole her lips in a rough kiss, his grip on her shoulders unyielding.

Razel gasped, too weak to resist.

Whether this was salvation or revenge, she could not tell.

But one truth was undeniable—

The man she had abandoned had returned.

He had come back to punish her, to take everything precious to her, as both a deathly harbinger and a husband.

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