FIH 01

Chapter 1

Under the clear blue sky, the palace garden was full of color and life.
A soft breeze passed through the rose bushes, scattering petals one by one.

Inside the Empress’s Palace, the red sunset poured through the narrow window.
The room was large but almost empty — the few pieces of furniture that remained looked old and worn out.

A woman was kneeling on the floor, scrubbing it clean.
The golden sunlight touched her deep blond hair and long eyelashes of the same color.

She had a smooth forehead, a slender face, sharp brows, and long double-lidded eyes.
Her eyelashes were thick and long, her lower lip was fuller than her upper lip.
But her body was so thin that she looked almost skeletal, her face hollow, her clothes in rags — her beauty now dulled by misery.

After finishing her cleaning, Heyla wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve and sat down for a short rest, gazing out the window.
She looked at her rough, calloused hands with a sad expression.

How did I end up like this? she wondered.
She hadn’t looked in a mirror for a long time.

Once, she used to take great care of her appearance — but now, she had no reason or strength to do so.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she saw Kersian’s face.
Just thinking about him brought too much pain, so she tried to push the thoughts away.

Then suddenly — the door burst open, and several people entered.
It was Uriel, along with the servants she brought.

Uriel’s green eyes gleamed under lowered lashes, her smile radiant and mocking.

Her curly red hair, fair glowing skin, and soft hands — which had never known hardship — were adorned with luxury.
On one of those fingers shone a red ruby ring — a family treasure passed down through generations, one that once belonged to Heyla’s mother.

“What is it this time?” Heyla asked, her face pale with fear.
Then she noticed Uriel’s swollen belly and froze.

Uriel caught the unhidden sadness, loss, and longing in Heyla’s eyes — and smirked.

It had been a long time since they last saw each other.
Heyla now looked pitiful — thinner and weaker than even the lowest palace maids.

That sight alone made Uriel feel strangely satisfied.

“His Majesty has decided to send you to a monastery,” Uriel said.

Heyla didn’t answer. Her expression, calm and resigned, showed she had already expected this.
As Kersian had said — Heyla was powerless, meek, and posed no real threat.
But still, Uriel couldn’t let her exist freely.

“All the royal members of prophecy have been executed,” Uriel added with false regret. “To spare your life is… far too merciful.”

Heyla’s face darkened.
Because of Kersian’s rebellion, she had lost her entire family — and Uriel’s family had helped him seize power.
Kersian had always cared for Uriel, but after the coup, his affection only grew stronger.

Even when Heyla miscarried after being poisoned — and it was clear Uriel was involved — he covered it up and punished no one.
As a result, Heyla was dethroned, and now Uriel was about to take her place.
And the child in Uriel’s womb would become the next Emperor.

“Bring the branding iron,” Uriel ordered.

Heyla’s head snapped up in shock.

Uriel’s lips curved into a cruel smile.
Servants grabbed Heyla, forcing her to kneel and pinning her down so she couldn’t move.

“What are you doing?!” Heyla cried, struggling.
But no one feared her anymore — once the most noble woman in the empire, she was now just a broken toy.

The servants returned with a heated iron rod, glowing red in the brazier.

Just looking at it made sweat trickle down Heyla’s back.
Her panic grew, which only pleased Uriel more.

Uriel lifted the iron and said coldly,
“This will make me feel safer.”

“Please, don’t! I beg you—!”

The heat brushed against her skin, and then —

Uriel pressed the iron against Heyla’s cheek.

A horrible hissing sound filled the air, followed by the stench of burning flesh.
Heyla screamed in agony.
Uriel threw the iron to the floor when she was done.

Heyla couldn’t even open her eyes.
Her skin was blackened and blistered, the flesh beneath pink and raw.
Even the servants turned away in disgust.
Uriel wrinkled her nose and said,
“She needs to stay alive to reach the monastery. Call the doctor.”

Then she turned to leave.
As soon as the servants let go, Heyla collapsed, trembling in pain.
Even though the iron was gone, her face still burned.

“Kersian…” she whispered his name unconsciously.

Uriel stopped walking and glanced back.
“His Majesty will soon announce my coronation at the upcoming banquet,” she said coldly. “This will be the last time I visit you. And since you still call for him so pitifully, I’ll tell you one truth — the one who killed your unborn child was His Majesty himself.”

Heyla’s eyes widened in shock.

“So don’t cling to him anymore,” Uriel added with a sneer. “When you arrive at the monastery, I’ll send you something special — the same thing your father and your baby drank.”

Heyla’s gaze darted to the fallen iron rod nearby.
Before anyone could react, she snatched it and swung it toward Uriel.

Uriel, startled, stumbled backward and fell.
The quiet, timid woman she once mocked was now rushing at her with blazing eyes.
For the first time, fear flashed across Uriel’s face.

But Heyla’s resistance was short-lived.
The servants quickly overpowered her, pinning her down again and yanking the iron from her hand.
The rod clattered across the floor.

Uriel caught her breath and shouted in fury,
“That madwoman tried to attack me and harm the royal heir! Kill her immediately!”

“But His Majesty’s orders—” a servant began, when the door suddenly opened.

Kersian entered.
At the sight of him — the man she once loved so deeply — Heyla’s heart wavered.

He was as elegant as ever, now dressed in the emperor’s robes.
He looked even more refined and majestic — a true emperor.
But to Heyla, his presence chilled her blood.

“Your Majesty,” everyone bowed in panic.

Kersian’s gaze fell on Heyla — her tear-streaked face, her newly burned cheek.

“Release her and call the physician,” he ordered. “And take Uriel back to her room.”

Uriel, sensing his disapproval, backed away quietly.
The room fell silent.

“Come, the floor is cold,” Kersian said, reaching out his hand.

Heyla didn’t take it.
So he grasped her hand and helped her up himself.
His hand was still large — and warm.

Tears streamed endlessly down her face as she whispered,
“Why did you do it?”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Heyla stared at him, speechless.
Then she finally said,
“Don’t say meaningless words. You killed my father — and our child. No human could do that.”

“If that’s what you think, then so be it,” he replied, sounding tired, as if speaking to a child’s tantrum.

There was no guilt or sorrow in his expression.
Only weariness — and indifference.

Heyla’s eyes filled with despair.
She had thought it was love.
She had given everything for it.
But now she finally understood — she had been the only one who believed.

“Kersian, you’re the most shameless and despicable man I’ve ever known.”

“I know,” he said calmly. “You can hate me all you want.”

He reached out to wipe her tears, but she flinched away, horrified.
In her clearer vision, she saw his sharp black hair, cold features, and pale green eyes — the eyes she had once loved.
And now, her broken face reflected in them.

Heyla backed away until her back hit the wall.
Kersian sighed lightly.

“Your Majesty, the physician has arrived,” a servant announced.

“Good. Begin—”

“Y-Your Majesty!” someone shouted.

A gust of wind brushed Kersian’s cheek.
He turned — and saw Heyla sitting on the window frame.
The wind blew through her hair.

“Meeting you was the worst choice of my life,” she said. “I only regret that I couldn’t kill you and Uriel myself.”

“Heyla, don’t do anything foolish. Come down,” he said gently.

She gave him a bitter smile.
“Go to hell.”

And then — she leaned backward.

Kersian ran toward her, but she fell faster.
The world seemed to slow down as she plunged.
Regret and anger filled her heart.
She didn’t fear death — only that the wrong people would live.

A sickening thud echoed as she hit the ground, her legs twisting unnaturally.
Blood spread beneath her like a red flower.

The palace maids nearby screamed and ran for help.
And with that sound, Heyla’s world went dark.