11. A Definite Act of Treason
Whenever hatred gnawed at her insides to the point she could no longer bear it, she would burn her enemy’s name like this. She knew it was a bizarre act of self-consolation—nothing ever really happened.
But she had no choice. Strangely enough, this was the only thing that brought her the slightest relief.
Now, however, she had found another path—thanks to that naïve young master, Damion de Orphé.
When she agreed to date him, the man smiled like a child. In the purity and happiness of that smile, Anshi was briefly swept up in a strange feeling. It was a feeling akin to guilt.
At that moment, her father’s bloodstained dog tags came to mind. So did the coffin filled only with her brother’s clothes—his body never found—and their gravestones, defaced by countless scribbles.
Who was pitying whom? Who was feeling guilty toward whom?
When the guilt faded, what remained was overwhelming disgust.
They were bound by fate—a fate forged by her father, who died a wrongful death and paired them together for the sake of revenge.
To ventilate the room, Anshi opened the window and returned to her desk, pulling out paper and pen.
Then she began writing a letter without hesitation.
The recipient: Élise de Baillis.
She had once been Anshi de Lubelsayden’s friend.
“Please show your identification.”
Outside the Royal Central Library in Felitz, the capital, the gatekeeper addressed Anshi as he stood guard at the entrance.
Anshi retrieved her ID from her bag and handed it over. Upon seeing the name, the gatekeeper looked at her face again, suspiciously.
“What is your place of birth?”
“North Oslea.”
The gatekeeper returned the ID and opened the door.
His reaction wasn’t surprising.
The ID she presented wasn’t in the name of Rain Arel—it was Anshi de Lubelsay’s.
It had been a long time since she’d used it. The name of Lubelsay, which had vanished for a year and couldn’t be found anywhere, was bound to raise questions. So rechecking it made sense.
Now that she had decided to return as Anshi de Lubelsay, she would have to grow used to such reactions.
In the past week, everything had moved quickly.
After receiving a telegram from the Baillis family inviting her to a party, she informed Damion of it as well.
She had immediately notified the Zieden family of her resignation. Though the head maid had initially said she would have to wait three months, the very next day she changed her mind and told Anshi she could leave right away. Apparently, a replacement had been found quickly.
Thus, a few days ago, she traveled to the capital with her mother, and today she came to the library alone.
Entering the lobby, Anshi looked up at the high ceiling. She let out a quiet gasp of admiration at the intricately painted ceiling mural.
It had been a long time since she’d visited this place.
Only nobles were allowed inside. She had only discovered that last year—after being turned away when she visited with Rain Arel’s ID.
You only realize what you’ve lost once it’s gone.
Swallowing that old bitterness, Anshi stepped forward.
The scent of paper filled the air as she entered the Third Reading Room. That familiar and nostalgic smell stirred emotions within her. She strode deeper into the room.
Inside the reading room, there was a door that led elsewhere. Past the hallway, she arrived at the Publication Room, where newspapers and magazines were stored.
Inside, there were decades’ worth of newspapers from various publishers. This was the reason Anshi had come—to the empire’s largest library, where she could find newspapers of many perspectives and tones.
She pulled out newspapers starting from five years ago.
In them, she searched thoroughly for the name Orphé.
What policies did Orphé support? What events did they attend? Whom did they sponsor? Where did they spend their summers?
Hatred was such a foreign emotion. For the past year, her mind had been entirely consumed by the desire to kill Cardian—she couldn’t think beyond that.
But now it was different. She had a new goal: to destroy the entire Orphé family. And she had found a bridge into the enemy’s den.
So she needed to know her enemy better—what kind of people they were, at least what they appeared to be on the surface.
Anshi remained glued to her seat, reading newspaper after newspaper, only getting up to fetch more. Her eyes scanned the pages like a madwoman’s.
Five years ago, four years, three… time approached the present. The most frequently mentioned was the Duke of Orphé, but Cardian Orphé also appeared occasionally.
“New Emperor Names Young Marquis Orphé as Advisor”
A two-year-old article said that the newly crowned young emperor had appointed Cardian as his advisor.
From that point on, Cardian retained the emperor’s trust.
So Anshi began reviewing not only mentions of Cardian or Orphé but every article related to the current emperor. They were all connected to what she planned to do.
“Massive Cuts to Welfare Budget – An Imperial Choice”
“Belgader Bank for Nobles Founded”
The emperor favored the nobility over commoners, the wealthy over the poor.
“New Year’s Ball Welcomes Gentry Class – A Grand Affair”
“Emperor Rudkaos Enjoys Hunting Event with Orphé and Close Allies”
“Festival of Empire: Lavish Celebration Amidst Drought”
He also loved leisure. Some called him a patron of the arts, others called him decadent.
Anshi silently read those assessments.
Soon, she arrived at the articles from a year ago.
Then, one article caught her eye. Publicly, it wasn’t closely tied to Cardian—but to her, it was more relevant than any other piece.
“Count Lubelsay Sacrifices Young Men to Greed”
A sensational headline. Beneath it, Cardian’s name appeared briefly—mentioning he had informed Count Lubelsay of the truce.
Anshi clenched her fists. Blue veins stood out beneath her pale skin. The edges of the newspaper crumpled.
She quickly closed the paper and reached for another.
She already knew about the events from that time. She had read many newspapers, hoping public opinion would shift—hoping someone, anyone, would side with the Lubelsay family.
Some articles did question Count Lubelsay’s decision. But there were no follow-ups. At best, they ended as conspiracy theories. The entire empire had already branded Count Lubelsay as a man who opposed the truce and pushed forward with war.
Ignoring her rising despair, Anshi sifted through the remaining articles.
“Emperor’s Statue in Goel Square Vandalized”
“Rebels Attempt to Assassinate the Emperor”
As time passed, discontent among the poor and powerless grew.
The rebels expanded, and demonstrations became more frequent.
But the empire’s order was unyielding—and it was impossible to overturn it.
“Egg Thrown at Emperor’s Carriage – Perpetrator to Be Executed in Three Days”
The emperor reacted harshly to any challenge to his authority.
‘Anyone associated with the rebels is immediately sentenced to death.’
“Five Rebels Including Marquis Carlon Publicly Executed in Melan Square”
Even well-known high nobles had joined the rebels, only to bring ruin to their houses. Anshi read such articles and let out a long breath.
The final chapter was always execution.
Realizing this pattern brought a twisted expression to Anshi’s face.
Those who hurled themselves against the towering wall were always shattered. It was a tragic, pitiful end.
Yet… it was also the closest path available to her now.
“You can choose—leave me, or marry me.”
Marriage to Damion de Orphé.
Anshi had decided to become one of the Orphé.
Only by gaining the Orphé name could she truly bring them down.
‘First, use the Orphé name to fund the rebels.’
If she married, she’d likely be granted access to the family seal. Even if not immediately, time would wear down their guard.
She would hide her claws and slip into the Orphé family. She would act for them, appease them, and present herself both inside and out as one of their own.
Then, just before the world discovered that the Orphé were supporting the rebels…
Once Anshi was seen not as Lubelsay but as wholly Orphé…
She would commit the most definitive act of treason.
‘Attempting the assassination of the emperor.’
It wouldn’t be difficult—not actually killing the emperor, just making the attempt.
If a supposed Orphé loyalist tried to assassinate the emperor—and if she had been funneling support to the rebels under the Orphé name…
The conclusion was obvious.
The surviving emperor would execute the Orphé family for treason.
That was how Anshi planned to destroy Orphé.
After staring at newspapers for hours, Anshi closed the final one and looked up. Outside the window, the sky had turned pitch black.
Stepping out, she buttoned up her jacket. The capital wind was colder than the south.
Trishy Zieden’s face was all smiles the entire day.
She had never been to such a grand noble’s ball in her life.
But now, an invitation from the Marquess of Baillis in the capital!
She even managed to join conversations among the other young noblewomen. All that remained now was to meet Sir Damion.
“Miss Trishy, do you have your eye on anyone in particular?”
“Well… Sir Damion. I’m sure I’ll get to dance with him tonight.”
