Chapter 2: The Fall
The story turns back to four months ago.
Philia had boarded a carriage headed to House Lopero to prepare for her wedding, which was just six months away. It had been exactly one year since she received Rascal’s proposal.
“Am I really going to marry him?”
She asked herself in disbelief as she looked at Rascal, who sat indifferently across from her.
It had been a year since Rascal visited the northern territories as part of the imperial delegation. That was when they first met—at the welcome banquet—and that very night, he proposed to her.
“I will make you the finest bride in the Empire.”
As he knelt before her, Philia felt like she might stop breathing. She had clutched at the hem of her dress and barely managed to look at her own feet.
Her long eyelashes had trembled, and beneath them, her red irises were full of confusion and an unknown flutter.
“I didn’t know a heart could race like that…” she had thought at the time.
Now, seeing him again after so long, he was still just as handsome—breathtaking, really. Just being around him made one feel small. Though not quite like back then, her heart still pounded.
The words “Did you receive my letters?” came all the way up her throat but never left her lips.
Since the proposal, Philia had sent him one letter every week—48 in total. In return, she had received only one letter from him.
“Does he even care about me?”
She wondered as she looked at Rascal, who stared out the window with a detached gaze.
She turned to look outside as well, only to catch her reflection in the glass.
Flawless white skin, a round forehead flowing into a delicate nose, and small, plump red lips. Her rare red eyes and matching hair. Not a bad appearance. But that was all.
Certainly not beautiful enough to inspire a man to propose at first sight, disregarding all conditions. And especially not someone like Rascal Lopero.
He was the heir to the Empire’s most prestigious noble house, the top graduate of the Royal Academy of Magic, and a savvy businessman who had built a top-five trading company just as a hobby.
Recently, he had expanded into mining and glass manufacturing, rapidly growing his wealth. He was the kind of man everyone desired.
And yet…
“Why me?”
She was just the daughter of a low-ranking noble house. Without Rascal, the name of the Pendenson family would have never even passed through the lips of the central nobles.
So Philia had always been curious.
But she couldn’t bring herself to ask.
Because whatever answer he gave would surely hurt her. And now, watching him stare blankly out the window, she was certain—
Whatever fire had once burned in his heart had long since gone cold.
Trying to calm her unease, Philia reached for the necklace around her neck.
The carriage finally arrived at the capital.
It had taken seven days of nonstop travel. A journey that normally took two weeks had been rushed to exhaustion. They only stopped twice a day—for bathroom breaks and to switch horses.
“This must be the capital,” Philia said.
Rascal gave no answer, only a slight nod.
It had been a week in the carriage, and the two had exchanged only the most necessary words. Rascal had spent the entire time staring out the window like a man who had forgotten how to speak. Even when their eyes met, he quickly looked away without a word.
Just as Philia began to feel like she might suffocate, the rough road gave way to a smoothly paved street.
She let her body sway comfortably with the improved ride. Outside, faint sounds of a crowd drifted in.
It was Philia who finally broke the silence.
“May I open the window for a moment?”
“As you like.”
Rascal’s response was indifferent.
Philia’s maid, Melissa, quickly moved to open the stiff window. “Ugh,” she grunted softly at the resistance.
Cold wind and the city’s noise poured in the moment it opened.
They were passing through a central plaza.
“Wow! My lady, look at that!”
With a childlike smile, Melissa pointed to the grand fountain at the center of the plaza.
Surrounding the fountain were chic storefronts, bustling with merchants, artists, nobles, and commoners alike. The square was packed.
The carriage slowed to a crawl.
The mix of pedestrians and carriages had caused a major traffic jam.
“The capital’s plaza is incredible,” Melissa said in awe. Philia also stared in amazement, mouth slightly open.
In the north, unmarried daughters were not allowed to leave their territories, so neither Philia nor Melissa had ever seen the capital before.
If not for Rascal, Philia likely never would have set foot here at all.
“It’s amazing. I’ve never seen this many people in one place.”
For the first time in a while, Philia’s face lit up with girlish excitement. The oppressive mood lightened just a little.
Perhaps Rascal felt the same, for he offered her a faint smile—for the first time. Unfortunately, Philia did not see it.
“We’re almost there,” he said, crossing his legs and glancing at her.
And just then, a massive fortress appeared beyond the plaza—so large it couldn’t be taken in with one look.
It was the Lopero estate.
Past a towering gate made of steel and gold lay a vast courtyard.
As the carriage passed through a well-kept garden, Philia prepared to disembark.
But the carriage did not stop. It sped past the main garden and central palace, following a long path flanked by rare trees, rose bushes, and even a waterfall.
Eventually, the carriage stopped at a deserted road.
The door opened, and an old woman with a cane greeted her.
“Welcome,” she said, bowing deeply.
She held out a withered hand, motioning for Philia to step down.
Instead of taking the hand, Philia looked to Rascal in confusion. He gave her a silent nod.
With no choice, she stepped out of the carriage.
Melissa, having disembarked first, quickly grabbed their luggage. Philia’s belongings were few—just a few changes of clothes, undergarments, and a keepsake box from her mother.
“Where should we go…?” she began to ask.
“Hyah!”
Before she could finish, the coachman, seeing the luggage unloaded, cracked the reins and drove off.
As the carriage disappeared behind a cloud of dust, Philia felt a sudden urge to cry.
She had suspected this might happen, but it still hurt when Rascal left without a word.
She had known it wasn’t love, but the pain was real nonetheless.
“Please follow me,” the old woman said, approaching. Philia now noticed she was blind.
Tap, tap.
The woman used her cane to lead the way, and Philia and Melissa followed.
Before long, a small, two-story annex appeared—run-down and overgrown with vines and weeds.
“Where is this…?” Philia wondered, but something about the old woman’s presence kept her from asking.
“Lady Philia, please rest here,” she said, stopping before a door.
On the handle was the gray wolf emblem of House Lopero.
“There is warm tea waiting inside.”
“Understood,” Philia replied.
“And you,” the old woman said, gesturing to Melissa, “come with me.”
Melissa hesitated, but eventually followed.
Philia watched them disappear.
A strange unease settled over her, hard to describe but hard to ignore.
Still, there was nothing she could do but enter the room as instructed.
Creak.
She pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside.
The room was cluttered, not quite what one would expect for a guest. There was even a faint chill in the air.
She sank into a sofa near the fireplace, exhausted.
On a side table were a pot of tea and some cookies, still steaming.
Philia poured herself a cup and took a sip.
The scent was oddly calming. Warmth spread through her weary body.
And slowly… her eyes closed.
When she awoke, it was night.
Pitch black.
The only light came from the pale moon through a small window.
“When did I fall asleep?”
As she looked around for a lamp, footsteps echoed in the hallway.
She froze, listening.
Her body tensed.
And then—
Creaaak.
The door opened.
“Who…”
Before she could finish her sentence, a murderous aura filled the room.
And then—Philia collapsed, falling to the cold marble floor.
