CHAPTER 04
Asilia looked up at Cretes silently, then turned her head away to express her refusal.
Her expression showed that there was much she wanted to ask.
About the life he had lived, and the kind of treatment he had received.
“Now that I’ve said it aloud, I’m curious. Won’t you tell me?” he asked.
At that, Asilia furrowed her brows.
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“About the life you’ve lived.”
For a moment, her fingertips trembled.
It was difficult to answer such a question.
What kind of life?
Asilia’s life had been anything but special.
She was born, became an orphan, and was abandoned. Then one day, a stranger found and took her in—and from then on, she had lived the life she knew now.
At least, that’s what Asilia believed about her childhood.
A life where she couldn’t speak her mind and had to obey orders unconditionally.
A life where she hovered above others, but could never truly stand above them.
“It’s a story not worth hearing. And not entertaining, either.”
Cretes’s expression twisted at her words.
Asilia’s face revealed no emotion—only indifference. Suddenly, Cretes closed the distance between them and bent down slightly.
When their eyes met, he spoke.
“No matter what kind of life you’ve lived, your story is of value to me.”
“…”
“Even if all you say is that you had a tasteless meal. That you struggled. That you pretended to be cheerful despite the hardship.”
Straightening up, he reached out his hand.
Asilia flinched at the hand coming toward her head and closed her eyes tightly—as if bracing for a strike.
But Cretes didn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he gently patted her head with utmost care.
As if to let her know she was someone worthy of love.
Startled by the warmth on her head, Asilia slowly opened her eyes. Looking up at him, she saw Cretes smiling and saying,
“If your life until now has been dull, then I’ll make sure your life ahead will be one you can say was full of joy.”
It was an unbearably kind promise.
So sweet it made her stomach churn.
Because she could almost see people dying in the wake of every word he spoke.
Shutting her eyes tight, Asilia let out a trembling breath.
“Don’t scatter kindness you can’t take responsibility for. If you keep that up, it’ll get you killed.”
“Me? By whom?”
Cretes asked with a trace of laughter in his voice. But Asilia, her face still unreadable, answered plainly:
“By my hand.”
“…”
“You will die.”
After Cretes left, Asilia lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
“…Marriage.”
It wasn’t even worth thinking about—yet his words kept echoing in her ears.
“Marriage. That’s the only thing I’ll force on you. I won’t ask anything else.”
“…”
“Ah, going back to Revilla is not an option either.”
His tone had been light, almost teasing, but his voice had held sincerity.
Cretes had merely smiled at Asilia when she didn’t respond.
There had even seemed to be a hint of guilt in that smile. Asilia had instinctively looked away from it.
“What is he thinking…”
Of course, it was impossible to know what went on in the mind of a man she’d just met.
“I’ll at least let you marry someone you want to.”
“…”
“But keep this in mind—you have no voice here. The only thing keeping you alive is your loyalty to Revilla.”
Cretes said she could do whatever she wanted—except return to Revilla or refuse the marriage.
Meanwhile, the Revillan Empire had told her she could marry whomever she wanted—but had no right to express any opinion otherwise.
Between the two, it was clear where she’d be better off staying.
But still…
“I cannot betray my homeland.”
Betrayal meant death.
She’d already learned that lesson the hard way.
Not just the people who tried to help her escape—but even those who merely reached out to her had been slaughtered before her very eyes.
The moment you betray Revilla, they chase you to the ends of hell.
Those who once invited her to defect, only to later pull her back “just for a moment’s escape,” had met despair and death. Asilia had seen it too many times.
She shut her eyes tightly.
The warmth of his hand on her head had been comforting.
The way his eyes looked at her—as if she were precious—made her chest ache.
But no matter how warm it had been, she couldn’t break her vow.
How many had died because of her?
To Asilia, kindness was poison.
Everyone who had tried to give her freedom had died—and died regretting it.
“If I’d known this would happen, I wouldn’t have helped you,” they said.
“…The Emperor of Moria will probably say the same thing someday.”
If she betrayed her country and chose comfort in Moria’s embrace, Revilla would not let her go.
It might even lead to another war. If not, then they would at least try to eliminate anyone who helped her.
That was the way of the Revillan Emperor.
“…I should just run.”
Having stayed awake until dawn, Asilia finally whispered her decision.
She didn’t know if this was the right path.
She hadn’t even consulted Isaiah. He might scold her later.
But she couldn’t just sit around.
If she stayed any longer, all the discipline she’d forged through pain might begin to crack.
If they truly intended to make her Empress, then after last night’s attack, security would be tightened.
She had to escape before more eyes were watching.
“Isaiah’s the only issue…”
But he was an excellent knight.
If he realized she had fled, he would find a way to follow. If not… then maybe, if fortune allowed, the Emperor might release him.
Opening the window, Asilia stepped onto the terrace and cautiously looked around.
The breeze was cool, but there was no sound—no voices, no footsteps, not even busy servants rushing by.
“Not yet…”
Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, she grabbed the railing. Judging the distance with her eyes, she leapt over with agile precision.
Landing silently, she hid herself in the shadows and suppressed her presence.
“…Damn it.”
Relief was short-lived. She bit her lip.
“This damn place is huge.”
If her brain had been working properly, she would’ve memorized the layout before trying to escape.
Now, she had no idea where to go.
She looked toward a nearby fence. She could sense a faint presence beyond it.
“…I wanted to leave quietly.”
But since she didn’t know the way, she had no choice.
Muttering to herself, Asilia stealthily approached the fence. On the other side, a man was leaning against it, humming.
Asilia grabbed the fence—and vaulted over, aiming straight for his head.
“Whoops.”
Had he expected her?
The man effortlessly dodged out of her reach—and just as she began to fall, he closed the distance and swung his elbow toward her.
Twisting her body mid-air, Asilia pulled out the hidden dagger and pressed it against his neck.
“…I didn’t think you’d be armed.”
The man raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, smiling awkwardly with the blade at his throat.
But Asilia’s face contorted in disbelief.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
The man by the fence was none other than her sworn enemy.
The red-haired shadow of death.
To the people of Revilla, that’s what he was called.
And no matter how much she hated it, Asilia had encountered him too many times—always sabotaging Revilla’s chances of victory.
“Saw me this morning and missed me already, is that it?”
“Shut it.”
She snarled and pressed the dagger closer. The man stepped back, then suddenly closed in.
As she flinched and stepped away, her back hit a wall—and her eyes widened.
“If that’s not it…”
Pinning her shoulder with one arm and gripping her wrist with the other, he wiggled his eyebrows.
“I’m supposed to take you to the dungeon, you know.”
“….”
“So what’ll it be? The dungeon? Or back to your room, nice and quiet?”
Adrian gave a sly smile, eyes crinkling as he looked at her.
Asilia glanced around, searching for an opening—but escaping from him didn’t seem easy.
“If you don’t like either option, should I call His Majesty for you?”
At those words, Asilia’s fingers trembled.
Cretes had just showered her with gentle words.
If he found out she had tried to escape…
He might use even more drastic means to keep her tied to Moria.
“…I’ll return quietly.”
