Chapter 140
The only way to counter a dirty move is with another dirty move.
From the start, even Altheo had no solid evidence. Rosahil had questioned his competence and undermined his legitimacy.
Altheo was the son of Cardia, who was once an imperial consort. The question arose—was it truly fitting for someone like him to ascend the throne?
Soon enough, rumors began to circulate—rumors suggesting that Altheo might not even be the Emperor’s real child. They pointed out that Cardia had many rumored lovers before her marriage.
Of course, the imperial family didn’t stay silent. They declared that anyone spreading such slander would be punished for insulting the royal bloodline, and soon silenced all public chatter.
But even if no one dared to speak it aloud, everyone knew. They knew the imperial family and our house were wading in the same filthy political mud pit, flinging dirt at each other.
What began as rumors quickly escalated into an actual conflict.
The first blow came when my older brother Eit, the captain of the imperial guard, was suddenly dismissed without cause. Another man was appointed in his place, and Eit lost even his position within the guard.
That day, my brother came home badly injured. Later I heard that his men had protested his dismissal and that a brawl had broken out. When my brother tried to break up the fight, he was hurt in the process.
The second strike came when the Rosahil family’s trading company was suddenly banned from exporting goods. Imperial officials claimed to have received “reports” that our merchants were smuggling harmful narcotics. Though my brother Eddie and the merchants protested vehemently, the imperial office pushed ahead with its investigation.
Finally, Father, the Minister of Education, was accused of embezzlement and subjected to a large-scale audit. Even if they found nothing, it wouldn’t be difficult for them to fabricate evidence if they wished. The other noble families, watching us get trampled, grew cautious—afraid that they might be next.
Everyone knew this was only the beginning. Altheo’s actions were as good as a declaration of war against Rosahil and the entire aristocratic faction. If things continued this way, our downfall would be inevitable—and with it, Altheo’s imperial authority would grow ever stronger, crushing the nobles’ influence.
In theory, the nobles could unite and resist the Emperor’s growing power.
But there was one thing they lacked—a justification.
If they had even a single righteous cause, a rallying point, they could unite. But without it, our house was forced to fight nearly alone.
The tension kept rising.
Even in exhaustion, my family refused to yield. They vowed to avenge Laila, no matter the cost. The imperial family, equally determined to crush our pride, pressed forward relentlessly.
Then, one day, Thea came to our mansion.
Thea came unannounced, wearing a strange expression—one that wasn’t quite joy, nor sorrow, but something quietly conflicted. Even as he was guided to the drawing room and seated, that same unreadable look never left his face.
He couldn’t see me, but I sat quietly in the corner, observing him.
Laila wasn’t present. She was in her room, sick again. Her mental state had deteriorated to the point where she was wasting away day by day. She’d just taken her medicine and was lying in bed; she’d fall asleep soon. I came down instead, to meet Thea and understand why he was here.
He sat calmly, his presence faint—fainter even than the Thea I knew from my own world. It was as though he could vanish into the wind at any moment without leaving a trace. But today, there was something resolute in him—something decided.
Father greeted him personally. His face, hardened by recent troubles, was not welcoming, but he still had enough composure left to hear Thea out.
Even so, he wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. After dismissing the servants, Father went straight to the point.
“…What brings you here, Your Highness?”
The relationship between the Imperial Family and House Rosahil was already beyond repair. The entire palace was walking on eggshells, and so were we. For the Second Prince to visit our house at such a time was highly suspicious.
Thea answered without hesitation—getting straight to the point.
But what he said was so direct, so shocking, that both Father and I were left utterly stunned.
“I wish to become Emperor.”
His voice was calm—still and level like the untouched surface of the tea before him.
Yet the weight of those words was enormous. He knew it too, but he continued speaking, composed and unwavering.
“Though my brother Altheo has inherited the throne, I cannot accept it. There is no one more suited to the title of Emperor than myself—Thearoha Ulysses, the legitimate son of the late Emperor and Empress.”
“…Please wait a moment.”
His tone was almost mechanical, as though he were reciting lines he had prepared long beforehand. Father pressed a hand to his temple, trying to process the words. Thea simply looked back at him in silence.
I, too, was stunned.
In the real world, Thea had also been preparing for the throne. But the Thea in this world was different—freer, more detached from worldly power. He’d never struck me as someone who would cling to the throne, much less manipulate political crises for his own gain.
There had to be another reason.
Perhaps sensing the same, Father studied him carefully before speaking again.
“…I am aware that Your Highness has never shown ambition for the throne. If you had, you would have begun your preparations long ago rather than visiting me now. Still, as the legitimate son of the late Empress, you would certainly have the right to claim it, should you wish.”
Father took a sip of tea, his eyes sharp.
“Please, Your Highness. Tell me honestly—what is your true reason?”
Thea fell silent for a moment, then spoke softly.
“…Lady Laila Rosahil.”
“……!!”
Father’s eyes widened in shock.
“I was her close friend in childhood. I wish only to help her and her family in their time of need.”
There was no lie in his eyes.
Yet if he truly thought of her only as a friend, he wouldn’t have come all this way.
A lump formed in my throat. Even here, in this world, Thea was thinking of me—protecting me—despite the fact that this Laila had never once shown him affection. She hadn’t even looked at him properly, not once.
Father seemed to sense Thea’s deeper feelings but spoke firmly.
“I will not sell my daughter to save our house.”
It was clear what he feared—that Thea might demand Laila in return for his aid.
But Thea merely looked back at him quietly.
“…I promise, I will ask for nothing in return. This is an act of goodwill—nothing more.”
He lowered his gaze, and his next words came out strained, almost painful.
“But I cannot stand by and watch her die.”
“…What do you mean by that?”
“My brother intends to brand House Rosahil as traitors.”
Father’s eyes trembled violently.
“…So it’s come to that.”
He had suspected as much, but hearing it aloud still struck him hard.
“Not only your family, but many others will be crushed. Altheo means to establish an absolute monarchy. To strengthen his rule, he is willing to sacrifice the few for the sake of the many.”
My hands clenched in my lap.
So that was it. Rosahil’s “treason” was nothing but a political maneuver—a pawn’s sacrifice in a game of power.
It was such a hollow reason that it made me sick. I’d spent so long searching for the truth, and now that I had it, it tasted bitter as poison.
“And do you know what’s amusing?”
Thea’s lips curved in a dry, lifeless smile. But there was no amusement in his eyes—only sorrow.
“My brother is preparing to annul his engagement to Lady Rosahil and marry Lady Emon instead.”
At that very moment, the door burst open. Both Father and Thea turned sharply toward the sound.
Laila stood there.
She was pale and frail—her once radiant beauty, like a jeweled flower, now withered to something fragile and hollow.
She trembled as her eyes locked on Thea.
“…Is that true?”
His eyes filled with pity. Laila swayed. Father leapt up to steady her, but she shook off his hand, staggering.
“…His Highness the Crown Prince… and Lady Emon…?”
I didn’t know how much she had overheard—but it was clear she had caught that part. When Thea nodded, Laila collapsed.
Yes. Laila was collapsing. Slowly, but surely—piece by piece, day by day.
She had always been proud—arrogant, perhaps—but she had known her worth and carried herself with grace. And now Altheo had shattered her completely.
Those who loved her could no longer stand by and watch. Even without her plea for vengeance, none of them could ever forgive Altheo.
Beneath the table, Thea’s hands were clenched so tightly they had turned white. His trembling eyes were all fixed on Laila.
Tears began to fall from her eyes.
“…I…”
She had barely eaten, barely slept. Her tears fell in silent drops—and then she fainted.
Father called upon a spirit to carry her upstairs. When she was gone, he turned to Thea with a heavy expression.
“……”
He was thinking—calculating the future, the risks, the choices.
But I already knew what he would decide.
Finally, Father spoke.
I couldn’t bear to see his face, nor hear the words that would seal our fate—so I closed my eyes.
“Very well.”
His firm voice filled the room.
“From this day forward, I—and House Rosahil—swear our allegiance to His Highness, Prince Thearoha.”
The Emperor had named Altheo as his successor in his will.
To defy that decree meant walking a path lined with thorns.
Yet even so, they chose it.
And they would not regret it.
I couldn’t help it—tears streamed down my face.
A war was about to begin.
