Chapter 8
“Then… could it be that the reason Your Highness has been treating a mere knight like me so kindly since earlier is…?”
You have to be shameless.
“Yes. Because I thought my older brother had returned to me.”
“….”
He fell silent, as if stunned.
Let’s drive the final nail in.
“May I try calling you that just once?”
“….”
“Older brother.”
“….”
I forced out the most affectionate voice I could manage. I narrowed my eyes as if on the verge of tears and looked at him without forgetting.
He drew in a deep breath until his chest swelled, then abruptly turned his head away.
What? Did it backfire? Was that too much?
Just as I began to feel flustered, unsure of what to do next—
He finally spoke after a long pause.
“Understood.”
“….”
His resolute eyes looked straight at me.
Looks like he’s convinced.
As expected, deception is half about momentum.
If you push forward with confidence, it works. I’ve learned something dangerous.
But it was too soon to relax.
“Then… what is it that Your Highness wishes me to do for you?”
Wouldn’t you know that better than I do? You said you had a younger sister like me.
Of course, I couldn’t say that, so I drew upon the idea of an “older brother” I had constructed in my mind.
“When we’re alone, please call me Sasha. My brother used to call me by a nickname.”
“How could I dare address Your Highness so—”
“If you’re not going to, then why did you ask?”
“….”
I only pretended to sulk, but his eyes clouded with guilt.
It reminded me anew that I really am the tyrant emperor’s daughter.
Normally, deceiving someone this kind should make my conscience ache so badly I couldn’t breathe—but right now, I was more curious about his reaction.
Suppressing the tyrant’s blood within me, I spoke.
“It’s fine. If you don’t feel like it…”
“Sasha.”
“….”
I flinched without realizing it.
Thinking I hadn’t heard, he met my gaze directly and spoke again, rolling the name carefully off his tongue.
“Sasha.”
“….”
This can’t be good for my heart. To hide my agitation, I raised the teacup to my lips.
Only after pretending to drink and taking a deep breath could I respond in a way that fit this role.
“Yes, older brother.”
“….”
After that, we sat in silence for a while.
It was he who escaped the awkward atmosphere first.
“Let’s end here for today.”
“Alright.”
“When others are watching, I will fulfill my proper role.”
“Understood. Come to think of it, I never heard your name. What should I call you?”
“…Now that I have become Your Highness’s knight, I wish to discard my past and receive a new name. Please call me whatever you find convenient.”
In that case—
“Sir Regen.”
“….”
“It’s my brother’s name.”
Among the sixty-seven dead princes, there must have been at least one named Regen.
His lips parted reflexively, but before he could object, I pressed on.
“Is there a problem?”
“…No.”
“Good. Then I’ll call you Sir Regen, Brother Regen, or simply Regen.”
“….”
As if feeling stifled, he picked up the cup in front of him and drank.
Seeing that, I brightened.
“…Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because you drank it on your own.”
Wasn’t that proof that he had the will to live?
With the atmosphere softened, I could finally say:
“Now then… shall we eat?”
Chapter 2: What Happened in the Princess’s Bedroom
I gave one of the side rooms in my residence to Regen. I hoped he would like the quiet room filled with sunlight.
“You’re free to move around inside Eunjo’s quarters.”
Since outside was dangerous, I restricted his range of movement.
The only times we met were during meals and treatment. Unless there was something important, I let him rest in his room without calling for him.
Regen had gone through far too much in the past month. He needed time to accept and process the fate that had befallen him.
That was something he had to do alone, so the only thing I could do was give him time and space.
He hasn’t been coming out… he’s not crying in there, is he?
My heart sank, and I found myself worrying about what lay beyond the door.
His room was just past the study connected to my office.
I often went in and out of the study, idly pulling out books, putting them back, flipping pages, and closing them again.
On the fifth day, he finally began to show himself, gradually expanding his movements into the study.
I was happy, but I didn’t show it. Whatever he did, I pretended not to notice. I had to act like I wasn’t interested at all so he could feel at ease using the space.
A week passed.
At the time of his morning treatment, I had the sitting room filled with refreshments and called him over. While I enjoyed tea first, Hamel and Demia handled his treatment.
High-grade potions were hard to obtain, so his right eye had to be treated slowly with ordinary potions.
Twice a day—morning and afternoon—they applied potion drops to his eye.
“Please sit, Sir Regen.”
As he sat, he tilted his head back with practiced ease.
His smooth forehead and the line of his throat were fully exposed. His short white hair, slightly disheveled, also caught the eye.
He was probably the most sensual patient in the world right now.
The treatment ended with an eye patch placed over his right eye.
I gestured to the seat across from me.
“The wound in your right eye is deeper than expected. The palace says it will take about a month to heal. It may be uncomfortable, but please endure it.”
“I still have my left eye, so I am fine.”
Demia, who was refilling my teacup, frowned and narrowed her eyes at him.
“Then treasure that left eye. Do you know how much it’s worth? The price of a whole mansion—mmph!”
“That’s right, Demia. A person’s eye is worth a thousand pieces of gold.”
I shoved a strawberry tart into her mouth to stop her from talking. But Regen was not oblivious.
“The price of a mansion…? Surely…”
“….”
“Did you really use a high-grade potion just for my eye?”
“If you know that, then bow and thank Her Highness—mmph!”
I fed Demia a blueberry tart this time.
Wiping my fingers with a napkin, I answered calmly.
“It wasn’t just an eye—it was your life. Using my authority gave me time to speak with you.”
“….”
He seemed to understand perfectly: without it, he would have died.
Seizing the silence, Demia swallowed her tart and shouted again:
“You must repay this kindness and the cost of that potion with your body!”
“…Sigh, Demia. I sentence you to silence until dinner tonight. Reflect quietly.”
“Your Highness…”
“Until tomorrow evening.”
“Mm—!”
Demia nodded miserably.
I didn’t revoke the punishment, but I handed her an orange tart and sent her out of the room.
“Sir Regen, you should eat too. Do you dislike sweets?”
“I don’t.”
“That’s a relief.”
As I went to drink, my teacup was empty.
With no maid nearby, he picked up the teapot and approached, refilling my cup.
I stared into it for a moment. This amber liquid might taste very special.
“Your Highness.”
Hamel’s voice, coming from a distance, pulled me from my thoughts.
She entered carrying a large box I hadn’t seen before.
“I’ve brought Sir Regen’s clothing from the palace.”
Inside was a uniform worn by imperial guard knights. However, instead of the empire’s symbolic navy blue, it was pitch black, reminiscent of mourning clothes.
It seemed the colors were used to distinguish between the emperor’s knights and the princess’s.
I glanced at Regen.
How would a prince feel, forced to wear the uniform of his enemy nation?
Probably… not good.
“….”
Even if he suppressed it behind a blank expression, his eyes couldn’t hide it.
In his golden gaze, emotions swirled like impurities—rising and sinking.
Anger, disgust, humiliation… and then, settling in their place, resignation—barely followed by acceptance.
“The order was to put it on immediately upon delivery.”
“Understood.”
Once again, I thought—I was glad I was pretending not to know he was a prince.
Sadness can be shared.
But humiliation cannot.
