CHAPTER 12
Asilia slowly blinked as she watched Isaya’s retreating figure.
The words he had left behind—they were permission. Permission for Asilia to think and act on her own.
“Why did he change his attitude so suddenly?”
Her brows furrowed unconsciously. Only one conclusion came to mind:
‘Revilla must’ve contacted him.’
But from his reaction, it didn’t seem to be a welcome message.
And it likely wasn’t good news for her either.
“…Abandoned, huh.”
It wasn’t the first time Revilla had discarded its tools.
They were the type to prefer using someone once and tossing them aside rather than preserving resources.
‘But to throw me away after sending me to Moria… I never expected that.’
Perhaps, with no news of Cretes’s death even after all this time, they simply assumed she had failed.
“In that case—”
Then they needed to take action to be called back to Revilla.
Even if Revilla had abandoned them, they must not abandon Revilla in turn.
“A nation abandons its people only when it’s more beneficial to do so. But does that mean the abandoned may then abandon their country? Absolutely not. If you are cast away, then reach your hand out again. That is your only path to survival.”
Asilia repeated those words silently with her eyes closed, then slowly opened them.
She had always thought of that lesson as obvious, yet now… a faint discomfort stirred inside her.
“Right… that must be right…”
It wasn’t just her—Isaya and the other knights from Revilla all carried that belief in their hearts:
If they were abandoned, they had to work to be saved again.
A belief that must not be defied.
As if reaffirming her resolve, Asilia murmured to herself and took a deep breath.
Pushing away the spiraling thoughts, she stood up.
Rather than sitting around pondering, it would be better to help Isaya and start scouting for an escape route.
But as she opened the door and stepped out of the drawing room, a sharp voice rang out nearby.
“Such noise. What’s going on?”
At her question, a maid looked flustered. Asilia was about to ask again when another shrill voice pierced the air:
“An Empress?! I’m the one meant to live in this palace—not some Empress!”
Asilia looked past the maid’s shoulder.
Not far away, a commotion was brewing.
“Y-Your Majesty! We’ll take care of this at once.”
Will you really?
The maid standing before the screaming girl was trembling, unable to get a word in.
“She seems to be my guest.”
“…”
“It’s fine. I’ll speak with her.”
Asilia stepped past the maid and walked straight up to the girl.
The girl, who had been yelling until her face turned red, widened her eyes upon seeing Asilia.
Asilia lowered her gaze to meet the girl’s eyes, but hesitated to speak. A maid standing nearby whispered softly,
“She’s Princess Formilla, 14th princess of the Kingdom of Ravinta. She’s here in Moria to establish peace.”
A foreign princess visiting for diplomatic purposes.
She looked to be in her mid-teens at most, still with traces of baby fat on her cheeks, standing with her hands on her hips and an air of confidence.
‘A political marriage for diplomacy, huh.’
But Asilia had heard that Moria had never had an empress since its founding.
So was she brought in as a concubine?
“Yes, I’m Princess Formilla of Ravinta. I’m the one His Majesty promised to marry—you’re the Empress?!”
Formilla crossed her arms and lifted her chin.
Asilia calmly met her gaze. Then, Cretes’s words surfaced in her memory:
“Do whatever you wish. All of it. It doesn’t matter who you were or what you were before coming here. Here, you are Empress. That means no one—including myself—has the right to treat you carelessly.”
If anyone dared insult her because she was once a prisoner of Revilla, she had permission to assert her authority.
‘I suppose I get to see now whether he meant those words.’
After a brief thought, Asilia slowly spoke.
“I’ve never heard of such a promise, so I can’t say anything about it.”
“…”
“But I am the one he actually married—not just promised to. So what kind of answer are you expecting from me?”
It was a natural assertion of superiority.
Would Formilla start with “how dare you”? Or would she raise a hand?
“…”
But surprisingly, Formilla did neither.
Instead, red-faced and speechless, she simply glared at Asilia, unsure what to say.
“If you have nothing more to say, perhaps it’s best if you withdraw.”
At those words, Formilla faltered, taking a few hesitant steps back.
Because Asilia wasn’t wrong—at all.
Asilia was about to walk past her when—
“I won’t stand by and do nothing!”
“…?”
“If you take what’s rightfully mine… I’ll never forgive you!”
That made Asilia turn around.
Formilla’s face was filled with emotion—she truly looked like someone terrified of losing something precious.
Was she referring to Cretes?
Asilia narrowed her eyes, and in that instant, Formilla—on the verge of tears—bolted from the scene.
“…Huh?”
Asilia blinked, watching her disappear.
Formilla had clearly been the rude one here, but to any outsider, it probably looked like Asilia had bullied her.
“…My apologies, Your Majesty. Princess Formilla is not someone His Majesty has promised to marry.”
The maid quickly clarified.
Formilla’s claim was simply her own, nothing official.
But what lingered in Asilia’s mind wasn’t the false claim—it was what Formilla had said.
The way she’d shouted, Don’t take what’s mine.
What exactly had she meant?
“I’ll make sure the princess never says such a thing again. So please… don’t mention this to His Majesty…”
The maid fidgeted nervously.
Was she asking Asilia not to mention the princess’s disrespect? Or the fact that she’d been allowed into the palace at all?
“Is there something she said that His Majesty mustn’t hear?”
“W-well…”
The maid faltered, unable to give a clear answer.
Just as Asilia was about to turn away, frustrated, a male voice cut in from nearby.
“It’s because no one wants His Majesty to remember the princess.”
It was Adrian.
Narrowing her eyes at his sudden appearance, Asilia wordlessly questioned his presence.
He simply shrugged and said with a smile, “On patrol.”
As he walked toward her, Asilia asked,
“What do you mean by not wanting His Majesty to remember the princess?”
“The Kingdom of Ravinta is on the brink of collapse due to civil war.”
The maids flinched beside them, clearly wanting both the emperor and Asilia to ignore the girl’s presence.
“You may leave,” Asilia instructed.
Once the maids had gone, she turned to Adrian.
“What does that have to do with His Majesty not knowing about the princess?”
It had struck her as odd.
Everyone acted like Cretes didn’t even remember that Formilla was here for diplomatic reasons.
“His Majesty has never really paid attention to people around him.”
“…”
“But now, Your Majesty—you’ve become his main interest. If, in the midst of that, he learns of a foreign princess brought under the guise of diplomacy… what do you think he’ll do?”
Adrian’s point was that while Cretes might’ve ignored her before, now that he was married, if he found out about Formilla’s presence, he might remove her without hesitation.
“Surely he wouldn’t go that far…”
“Oh, he would.”
Adrian cut her off firmly.
Everyone—except Asilia—believed the same thing.
That if the emperor remembered Formilla, she’d be sent away immediately.
“Then let me ask just one more thing.”
“…?”
“What exactly was it that the princess claimed was hers? The thing she begged me not to take?”
At that, Adrian sighed and shook his head with a quiet chuckle.
“She must’ve been pretty desperate,” he muttered before replying.
“She’s been managing internal affairs of the imperial palace—the very tasks the Empress would normally oversee.”
Asilia turned toward the direction Formilla had run.
Her eyes shimmered as she stared after the girl’s fading shadow.
