CHAPTER 01
Prologue
“…One year, you said?”
Roze’s voice trembled. The color drained from her face, leaving her already pale skin even whiter. But unlike her shocked reaction, the elderly man who had just examined her—a healer from the village—simply nodded with a detached expression.
“If you’re lucky, you might live a little over a year. But even then, you won’t make it past two.”
His voice was far too indifferent and dry for someone delivering a terminal diagnosis. There wasn’t even a hint of pity in his tone. He was merely stating a fact.
As casually as someone might say, “The weather’s nice today,” or “Looks like it’ll rain,” he declared the end of her life.
But he wasn’t particularly unkind. Everyone in the village treated Roze that way.
It was a place wary of outsiders and prone to shutting them out. Ever since Roze first arrived, not a single person had approached her or offered a warm greeting.
Even when she had collapsed in grief, unable to stand after losing both the man she loved and her baby, not one soul had uttered a word of comfort.
And today was no different.
“She had a good eye for herbs. That was useful… Now who should I send instead? What a bother.”
The healer grumbled as he stood up, not sparing her a single glance, even though she sat there in shock, unable to cry.
It was as if he didn’t even realize he had just handed a death sentence to a young woman. There was no sympathy or compassion in him.
He turned his back on her and began organizing dried herbs, treating her impending death as if it were already a certainty.
Roze sat still, her face pale. After a long pause, she finally wiped away a tear that had slid down her cheek and slowly stood. She bowed politely to the healer, who still didn’t look her way, and turned to leave.
As soon as she stepped out of the healer’s house, a chilly wind pierced through her thin clothes.
Cough!
Roze clutched her chest, seized by a sharp pain, and covered her mouth with one hand as she coughed violently.
The coughing fit wouldn’t stop. Staggering, she walked on, barely able to hold herself up.
She made her way to a small house on the outskirts of the village—or rather, a dilapidated hut that barely deserved the name “home.” Yet, it was the only place she had to rest.
…And once, it had truly been her home.
Cough, cough!
As soon as she stepped inside and closed the door, another wave of coughing wracked her body. Finally, the fit subsided.
Removing her hand from her mouth, she stood blankly and looked around.
With no candles lit, the house was as dark as night. Just outside, the sun shone brightly—but in here, only darkness.
A single door made all the difference.
Tears slid down Roze’s cheeks again. She collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. A soft sob slipped through her lips.
“…Haven.”
A name escaped amidst her tears—a name she hadn’t spoken in years, not since she lost him.
“Sniff… my baby…”
And then she called out to her child, the one she never even got to name.
She was alone now, but once, Roze had a family. A man had come into her life, someone she never imagined she could have. And together, they had a child.
They had come to her like a blessing. Having never known her own parents’ faces, they were her first family.
Perhaps she had wished for too much—hoped to be happy forever.
Maybe her greedy desires had taken them away from her.
“How dare you dream of the Grand Duke?”
She hadn’t known. Had no idea that Haven was a Grand Duke. Never imagined he was someone so important. To her, he had simply been a kind and gentle man.
“You, a lowborn woman, are unworthy. He is the future king of this nation—Gwentus!”
Roze had lived in a rural village on the border of the kingdom. Few outsiders came, and news of the outside world barely reached them.
She didn’t know the king had died. Didn’t know he left no heirs and died young.
She had no idea there was a law stating that if a king died childless, his widow would marry the next royal successor. Or that nobles were now scrambling for power under that very law.
“What do you think will happen if people find out you’re with the Grand Duke? Do you want him to be attacked by his enemies because of your foolish desires?”
“But… I…”
She couldn’t say anything. She had no way to defend herself against the scorn and accusations hurled at her. All she could do was bow her head and tremble before the emissaries from the royal palace.
“That’s enough. Unless you’re a fool, you should understand by now.”
At that moment, a woman stepped forward—elegant and beautiful. Haven’s sister-in-law, and the late king’s wife—the former queen.
“Raise your head, child.”
Roze remembered it clearly. The former queen lifting her chin, and for a brief moment, meeting her eyes.
The woman’s red hair and golden eyes were stunning. Roze, by comparison, looked wretched and pitiful.
“Put this in the Grand Duke’s tea.”
The queen handed her a small vial of clear liquid.
“Then the child you bore will live a life worthy of royal blood.”
“…I’m sorry.”
‘I’m sorry, Haven.’
Tears dripped from Roze’s eyes as memories overwhelmed her. She buried her face between her knees.
She had told herself it was for him. That he was noble, destined to be king, someone who didn’t belong in her world.
Using that as justification, she laced his tea with the drug the queen gave her.
Knowing full well it would erase her from his memory.
Roze looked up again. Her eyes were swollen from crying.
She glanced around the house. When her lover and child had been with her, this place had been her home.
But no longer. Since losing them, this had never felt like home again.
“…I miss you.”
She whispered, her tear-stained face full of sorrow.
“Just once… before I die… I want to see you.”
The man she loved. And the child, who must be grown by now.
Roze’s mouth twisted. She clenched her fists tightly on her lap, her head bowed.
She despised her selfishness, even at the end.
“But… I can’t help it. It’s my dying wish. Don’t be angry—I’m not trying to be greedy.”
Rubbing her distorted lips, she muttered excuses to no one.
That Night
That night, Roze left the village.
But not a single villager cared where she had gone. In fact, most didn’t even notice her absence right away.
Only the village healer muttered something strange when he heard the news a couple of months later.
“She’s gone off to find a place to die, it seems.”
Chapter 1
A woman walked in tattered clothes, looking as if she might collapse at any moment. But no one paid her any mind. Some even frowned and stepped away.
A madwoman. Or a beggar.
That was how most people saw her.
And they weren’t entirely wrong. In the capital city of Teraben, heart of the Kingdom of Gwentus, anyone looking like her was likely either insane or destitute.
The bustling streets of the capital.
People who walked these streets—nobles or commoners alike—were well-dressed and well-off. It was the center of trade and power, after all.
In such a place, Roze’s stumbling figure looked completely out of place.
“Hey! Move it!”
Suddenly, loud hoofbeats rang out as a carriage rattled toward her. Roze, too weary from days of travel, turned at the noise behind her.
A brown horse pulling a carriage was racing straight at her.
At this rate, she’d be trampled.
Panicked, Roze stumbled backward.
“Ah!”
But her exhausted body didn’t respond as she wanted. She lost her balance and fell hard onto the street.
“Outta the way, idiot! Damn unlucky!”
The coachman shouted angrily and whipped the horse to keep going. Roze narrowly avoided getting run over, gasping for air.
But the cloud of dust kicked up by the wheels filled her lungs, and a fit of coughing erupted.
Cough! Cough!
Her pale face twisted in pain as her chest burned. She clutched her throat and curled up on the ground. People who saw her flinched as if she carried a plague and quickly passed her by.
“…Ugh…”
Only after her coughing subsided did Roze manage to push herself up. Strands of dusty brown hair stuck to her bloodless cheeks.
She tried to fix her disheveled hair and stand upright.
Just then, a horn blared in the distance.
“Make way for His Grace, the Grand Duke!”
