Episode 8
A chill ran down Sevia’s spine.
This guy is insane.
She could feel something was seriously wrong just by looking into his cold blue eyes.
As the air filled with tense silence, the Crown Prince casually spoke.
“Aren’t you a duke among dukes? Someone who rules over others should’ve at least cut someone down once or twice.”
He threw out that twisted logic and gave a command to his attendants.
“Bring me those two attendants and my sword.”
One of the nearby attendants stepped out to fetch it.
Sevia swallowed dryly, not understanding why the sword was being brought.
“What do you think is most important when ruling over others?”
Since she still couldn’t tell what the Crown Prince was really thinking, Sevia answered carefully.
“Well… if I may share my simple thoughts…”
Hoping not to upset him, she tried to be as polite as possible.
“I believe ruling people is about understanding them.”
The Crown Prince let out a short laugh through his nose.
Worried she might’ve said something wrong, Sevia quickly glanced at the other nobles sitting nearby.
But they all hid their expressions as if this kind of thing was normal. She couldn’t read anything from them.
Though, she thought she saw a faint flicker of emotion in Casar’s red eyes.
It wasn’t clear or certain—just a vague feeling.
Even so, she didn’t know what it meant.
“You say something different than what I believe, Duke.”
Just then, the attendant returned, bringing along two young servants.
One of them carried a gleaming sword wrapped in a red cloth.
The Crown Prince took the sword and admired its ornate scabbard for a moment, then stood from his seat.
With a swift motion, he unsheathed the sword, making a sharp shing sound.
The blade was deadly sharp, looking as if it could cut something in an instant.
Seeing the Crown Prince’s cold smile, Sevia’s heart pounded with dread.
The other nobles’ faces still didn’t change, but their bodies had stiffened from tension.
Only Casar looked down, as if he already knew what was going to happen—or maybe he just didn’t want to watch it.
“I’ll tell you what I believe, Duke.”
The Crown Prince walked toward one of the young attendants.
“When ruling over others, the only thing you need is power.”
And without hesitation, he raised the sword high—and cut the young servant down.
The Crown Prince wiped the blood from his face with the red cloth that had wrapped the sword.
The carpet beneath him was stained deep red.
The servant, still barely alive, twitched for a few moments before going still.
Sevia was so shocked that she stood up without realizing it.
The Crown Prince gave her a twisted smile, as if pleased by her reaction.
“I want to know if you have the power to rule others.”
He took slow steps toward her, a creepy grin still on his face as if he found this all very entertaining.
He leaned in close—close enough that she could feel his breath—and whispered in her ear.
“Because I want to make you my empress.”
Her heart thudded in her chest.
Goosebumps ran across her skin, and her fingertips trembled.
The Crown Prince reached out and took her hand.
“Show me your strength.”
He handed her the sword—still warm with blood.
Then, tilting his chin, he pointed at the other young servant who was now shaking in fear.
“Cut that one down.”
After giving that devilish command, the Crown Prince returned to his seat.
He looked excited, as if waiting to see what she’d do.
Sevia let out a quiet sigh so he wouldn’t notice.
The sword in her hand felt like it was begging her to spill more blood.
The servant the Crown Prince had pointed to stared at her, pleading silently for mercy.
Seeing the fear in the boy’s eyes, Sevia clenched her teeth.
This order was proof the Crown Prince had lost his mind, but there was no time to dwell on it.
It was clear that if she hesitated or tried to avoid it, he wouldn’t let it go easily.
In that short moment, Sevia made up her mind and firmly gripped the sword’s handle.
Her confident, practiced motion caught the Crown Prince’s attention—his eyes lit up with curiosity.
Wearing a flowing light blue dress, Sevia took her first step forward, holding the blood-soaked sword.
The young servant trembled all over at the sight of this elegant, noble woman walking toward him.
Step by step, all eyes followed her as she slowly raised the sword.
When she finally stood before the servant, the room fell silent.
Then Sevia struck.
The sword didn’t hit the boy—but slammed into the floor beside him with tremendous force.
The Crown Prince’s sword now stood trembling in the floor of the audience chamber.
The young servant was still frozen, trying to process what had just happened.
Casar, watching Sevia, saw fury and disgust in her eyes.
Her gaze, usually calm and glowing, now shone with strength and resolve.
“It is not the role of the powerful to cut down the defenseless.”
She looked even stronger now than when she’d ripped her dress in front of the emperor.
Her eyes were blazing with anger, yet they still held a dignified elegance.
Though her voice remained steady, her clenched fist gave away her true emotion.
“If Your Highness wishes to rule others, please remember this.”
She politely bowed her head and spread her dress.
“I hope you now understand that my idea of power is different from yours… and that I am not suited to be your partner.”
The Crown Prince stared at her for a moment—then chuckled.
“You really are interesting, Duke. I like you even more now.”
He had grown up mostly in the military with his father, and all he knew was absolute obedience.
To him, disobedience was unthinkable, and he was cruel to the weak or those who lost.
This was likely the first time someone had dared to speak to him about what true power should be.
Sevia’s upright spirit and noble presence stirred something new in him.
It was as if he had realized there was another kind of strength—different from his cruel one.
His eyes were now full of intense, obsessive desire.
After looking Sevia up and down with a twisted smile, he finally stood and said,
“I’ve heard your thoughts. You may go.”
The nobles stood up and followed the Crown Prince.
Casar slowly stood, watching both the prince’s and Sevia’s faces.
Right before stepping out of the room, the Crown Prince stopped and looked back at Sevia.
“I look forward to our next meeting, Duke.”
Sevia bowed politely, her expression calm and steady.
Once the Crown Prince stepped out, the nobles followed one by one.
Casar also moved to leave.
But suddenly, the doors closed, stopping him.
“You made this person the next emperor?”
Sevia glared at Casar, her eyes blazing with anger.
Casar blinked, a bit surprised.
Sevia raised her voice at him.
“You helped someone who destroyed an entire castle become emperor.”
She pointed at the servant’s lifeless body.
“And now the next emperor has killed an innocent person.”
She couldn’t hold back the rage that boiled inside her.
“Is this really the kind of person you wanted to make emperor? Are these really the people you thought were worth your talents?”
Casar furrowed his brows at her accusations.
But Sevia didn’t back down.
She had made a serious mistake—openly criticizing the emperor in front of a loyalist like him.
It could give him a reason to act against her.
Yet surprisingly, instead of scolding her, Casar avoided her burning gaze.
“…That’s none of Your Grace’s concern.”
Something about his low voice made Sevia pause.
She sensed it—guilt.
And a hint of sympathy toward the fallen servant.
His red eyes trembled, trying to hide those emotions.
“You said rulers should understand people, didn’t you?”
His voice carried a faint sense of regret.
Casar grabbed the door handle and said,
“I don’t expect you to understand, but… people have their reasons.”
With those words, he opened the door.
Sevia, unable to find a reply, let him walk out.
As she watched him leave, she saw something she hadn’t expected in his retreating figure.
Casar was deeply tormented—by the cruelty of the emperor and the Crown Prince he had helped rise to power.
