- Chapter 23
The largest and most elegant reception room in the Zeros family mansion was divided into two connected chambers. The first was for casual conversation with guests, while the second—linked directly to it—was reserved for private discussions.
Sevtina entered the first room to find people already waiting.
“Lady Sevtina, you’re here.”
Klazen raised his glass in greeting. So that’s why he hadn’t spoken much earlier when they’d walked from the banquet hall—he was waiting for this moment.
Next to him, Dante also gave a respectful nod.
Sevtina and Wyatt passed them without a word and stepped into the second chamber. Once inside, Wyatt locked the door behind them and scanned the room, as if checking for eavesdroppers. He examined every corner with meticulous care.
To Sevtina, it looked absurd—like he was about to divulge state secrets.
‘What in the world is he planning to say?’
“Couldn’t risk anyone else hearing this,” Wyatt said, drawing the curtains.
“You told me to prove my sincerity,” he added.
So that’s what this was about. Sevtina tensed slightly but kept her expression calm.
“Yes.”
She couldn’t help but be curious—what kind of proof had he come up with?
Without another word, Wyatt pulled a rolled-up parchment from the inner pocket of his coat. The parchment was pristine, as if freshly prepared. He took Sevtina’s hand and placed it in her palm.
“Go on. Open it.”
She unrolled the parchment and found a perfectly drawn magic circle inscribed on it.
‘A magic circle?’
Perplexed, Sevtina tilted her head. Then Wyatt removed his coat.
‘Now why is he taking off his coat?’
Wyatt stepped closer and began unbuttoning his sleeve. As the cuff loosened, a glimpse of his inner wrist revealed the exact same magic circle as the one on the parchment.
“A magic seal…”
“You asked how I could prove my sincerity.”
He took a step forward. Sevtina instinctively took one back.
The closer he got, the more unsettled she felt. Wyatt reached out his hand toward her.
“I’ve engraved a spell into my body.”
“What kind of spell?”
Wyatt clenched his fist tightly at her wary expression.
“A spell that makes it impossible for me to lie about July. That seal is the proof.”
He gave a confident smile—the same one he always wore when something went according to plan.
“Try reading the inscription under the seal.”
Only then did Sevtina notice the fine print beneath the circle.
‘Should I even read this?’
Despite her doubts, she read the words aloud.
“I, Wyatt Craytan, am incapable of speaking a single lie regarding July Reeve. Should I do so, my heart will ignite and I will die—”
‘…Excuse me?’
Sevtina looked up, incredulous.
Wyatt had gone insane. That was the only explanation.
“You’ll die? Are you serious?”
She re-read the sentence five more times to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood. But the words stayed the same—if anything, they seemed to grow clearer with each read.
“You said you wanted to know how I truly feel about July.”
That smile on Wyatt’s face… it had never looked more wicked. Sevtina let out a hollow laugh.
‘What the hell is he doing? Just to protect July Reeve, that insignificant girl…’
“You’re saying you’d risk your life? You? The crown prince?”
“I don’t see why that’s a problem.”
It’s a massive problem.
“When a crown prince devotes his entire being to someone and declares he’ll give them everything—how is that any different from a tyrant? You were born into a world apart from ours.”
Wyatt flinched. His crimson eyes darkened.
Those were the same words he himself had once used—when he cast July aside. Bloodline. Status. Heritage. All meaningless.
Now, remembering the moment he turned his back on her, guilt twisted inside him. That he’d engraved this spell meant that, should he lie about July, he’d drop dead on the spot.
‘Drawing the curtains and whispering in private doesn’t make this go away.’
Wyatt was no mere figurehead. He was the future emperor of this empire, entangled in webs of power and politics.
“You’re looking at me like you don’t understand.”
Of course she didn’t.
Everything Wyatt had said was so extreme that Sevtina couldn’t respond. She hadn’t seen this coming.
In a quiet voice, Wyatt said:
“Then ask me.”
Was this guilt? Pity? Regret?
“Ask me why I’m doing this.”
Sevtina hesitated. Her instincts warned her that whatever answer he gave would only confuse her more.
But ignoring it wasn’t an option.
If she didn’t ask now, she would endlessly speculate and agonize over it later. She would regret never hearing the truth.
So she had to ask.
“Why are you doing all this, Your Highness?”
Whatever the reason was.
Wyatt’s eyes softened slightly, as if remembering something distant. His gaze lost focus.
He looked a little unhinged.
Then, pressing his lips together, he met her eyes directly.
A storm swirled behind his gaze—as if recalling something deeply buried.
‘Could it be… something between us?’
Sevtina wondered. She thought back to all the times she’d waited. All the pain. All the loneliness.
“I love her.”
A bell tolled somewhere in her mind.
Wyatt’s gaze remained locked on Sevtina.
“I love July Reeve so much that I’d give up everything for her.”
Thud.
A weight slammed down in Sevtina’s chest.
This was the first confession of love July Reeve had ever received.
And Wyatt couldn’t lie—not with that seal.
“…Liar.”
The words slipped out.
Wyatt laughed quietly, the sound innocent and boyish. There wasn’t a single trace of deceit.
“If you don’t believe me, want me to say I don’t love her?”
The Crown Prince of the empire offered his life to Sevtina like it was nothing.
His sincerity crashed over her like a tidal wave.
Of the three, Wyatt had been the last to confess—but his was the most powerful.
He wasn’t just talking about missing July.
He called it love.
“…Now, of all times?”
“I only just realized it.”
Wyatt smiled. And for the first time, his smile didn’t feel cold or calculating.
Today’s smile seemed to stretch longer than all the ones he’d ever shown.
Love couldn’t be denied. He truly loved July Reeve.
Even if no one knew why.
But that was all.
Sevtina’s resolve was unshaken.
She would kill July and erase the old version of herself completely.
No matter how much Wyatt despaired.
No matter how much he hated and resented Sevtina.
“This is as far as we’ll go for today. I’ll return soon. I hope that by then… you’ll have decided to help July.”
‘Help her? I’ve done nothing but live for her.’
Sevtina swallowed those words and simply nodded.
“Does the magic have side effects? What if you say something wrong—will you collapse?”
“Are you worried?”
“No.”
She denied it immediately.
She wasn’t worried—just curious how she might use this to her advantage. If she could knock the Crown Prince out for a few days, sneaking past surveillance would be easier. But if a single misstep could kill him, then there was nothing to work with.
“Did my sincerity reach you?”
Sincerity?
Sevtina smiled sweetly and replied:
“I wouldn’t call it sincerity—I’d say you’re insane. Who would’ve thought the Crown Prince would offer up his life?”
“Then how did you expect me to prove it?”
July had always been sincere. Every word, every gesture was filled with genuine care.
And yet they’d used her, trampled her heart without hesitation.
“I never thought about it. It wasn’t my job to figure that out.”
“So this method didn’t work.”
“Seems that way.”
“Would you consider giving it some thought?”
Wyatt’s insight was sharp. His blunt question caught Sevtina off guard.
He tilted his head, studying her. His eyes narrowed in quiet reflection.
“You say you want to save July, but you don’t look like someone desperate to do it.”
“Because I think keeping her alive in that environment would be an even worse hell.”
“If we remove that hell—would it be possible?”
“……”
There isn’t just one kind of hell.
Yulia and the Reeve family weren’t the only ones who made July suffer. The moment she realized she meant nothing to the successors—that’s when she truly broke.
Klazen, who used her skills shamelessly for his own gain.
Dante, who dismissed her feelings and spoke to her without regard.
And Wyatt, who constantly hurt her with veiled cruelty and cold violence.
Their betrayal, their hollow promises—those were hell too.
Violence doesn’t always come from a fist.
Finally, Sevtina nodded.
“If we can erase the hell she lives in… maybe.”
Though in truth, it was nearly impossible.
After Wyatt left, Sevtina faced Dante.
He seemed nothing like the last time they spoke. He was stiff, nervous—like a student waiting for an exam.
“I thought long and hard about how I could show you my sincerity.”
With a determined look, Dante opened his bag. It was angular and tidy—just like him. From it, he pulled out a notebook and offered it to her.
“What is this?”
