Episode 1 (Prologue) — Appointed as the Empire’s Sole Grand Duke
The man adjusted his glasses and roughly swept back his hair. His sharp eyes quickly scanned the dimly lit mansion.
The air inside was cold and still, as though the lights had been deliberately kept off.
Despite the round frames of his glasses, his features were cutting. His long black hair, tied high behind him, fell nearly to his waist.
The pendant around his neck bore the imperial insignia — proof that he was a government official recognized by the Empire.
With a swift motion, he removed both the pendant and his official robe, hanging them neatly over a chair. Rosen, who had been silently watching, swallowed hard.
“…Rosen.”
At his call, Rosen flinched and bit her lip. Behind her stood the knights who also managed the household affairs.
What do we do now?
Didn’t he say he’d arrive tomorrow?
I don’t know either.
Their exchanged glances said everything.
Meanwhile, the man began opening the doors of the mansion one by one.
“W–wait!”
When Rosen called out hastily, the man turned his head like a gust of wind. Holden Fay Take glared with chilling intensity.
It almost sounded as if a frightened puppy had whimpered. Rosen quickly lowered the hand she had raised.
Each time a door opened, a musty wave of dust and mold hit the air. Holden didn’t even hesitate.
“Turn on the lights.”
At his calm but heavy voice, Rosen gestured for the attendants behind her to act. One by one, lights flickered on throughout the mansion.
And then, it was revealed.
Piles of laundry.
Rusted dishes of uncertain age.
Ingredients rolling about on the floor.
A kitchen table so neglected that mold and maggots had begun to claim it.
“…Haah.”
Holden exhaled deeply.
What is this place if not a pigsty?
Or rather — is this even a noble’s residence at all?
How… how could things end up like this after just one short trip?
“Laundry should be done every other day.”
“I see.”
“The dishes should be washed right after meals.”
“I see.”
“Don’t just say ‘I see,’ wife!”
“…I see.”
Holden had just returned home after a short-term reassignment to another province.
Perhaps the mistake was wanting to see her so badly that he came home late at night by carriage.
He hadn’t expected this.
“Who could have guessed that the Empire’s only Grand Duke would be so hopeless at housekeeping…”
“As long as my husband understands, that’s enough.”
“Wife!”
The one who so calmly drove Holden to despair — Rosen Barhel Titania — was the Empire’s sole Grand Duke, the ruler of the northern provinces.
And the two had been newlyweds for not even half a year since the revolution.
Despite the late hour, the capital was brightly lit.
— Clang! —
Steel clashed sharply.
Rosen darted forward, landing a swift kick into her opponent’s abdomen.
“Guh!”
The knight groaned and stumbled back. Without hesitation, Rosen slashed.
“You wretch!”
“Urgh!”
Her lavender hair darkened with blood. Someone yanked her by the hair, forcing her head back, but Rosen only grimaced.
She twisted her wrist, slashing behind her—
— Shhk! —
Her long hair scattered through the air like dying petals.
“Aaagh!”
Two fell before her in quick succession. She scanned the battlefield — the chaos was subsiding.
“Surrender, Emperor of the Fifth Kastan Dynasty!”
She stood at the heart of the imperial palace, staring up at the throne.
The blond man standing there swung his sword—
— Clang! —
And something rolled across the marble floor to Rosen’s feet.
The Imperial Crown of Kastan.
Only the emperor could wear it. The golden circlet gleamed with blue jewels as Rosen picked it up.
Blood seeped through the bandages wrapped around her hands.
“You dare aim your blade at my father’s neck, Oberon!”
The middle-aged man on the throne screamed.
“Do not utter that name so carelessly. It disgusts me.”
Lante’s face twisted. Memories surfaced — of Rosen as a child, writing in the dirt with a stick.
‘Lante. In the Castan tongue, it means starlight, right?’
‘Yeah, that’s right.’
‘Then Castan itself means blue light. So light is you — how about that for your name when you ascend the throne?’
‘Rante…’
‘Do you like it, Your Highness?’
That same Rosen — bruised, smiling despite her broken teeth — had once been the knight Lante could trust his back to.
“My name is Lante. Lante Oberon Castan.”
The young man’s blue eyes blazed like tempered steel.
“I am the one who will become the Sixth Emperor of Kastan — the one who will see this Empire reborn.”
Rosen began walking slowly toward the throne.
Around her, the royal guards had either fallen or surrendered.
“Your cheap life will be nothing more than food for the starving beasts.”
“Aiden! Protect me! Stop this madman!”
At the emperor’s cry, a red-haired knight — Aiden Galtan, the Lion of the Crimson Mane — stood motionless.
His blade was stained with the blood of his own comrades.
“Damn it…”
The emperor gritted his teeth. Rante spoke softly:
“Your era ends here.”
“Oberon!”
— Shhk! —
That was the emperor’s end.
And the beginning of a new chapter in Kastan’s history.
“Look! The flag— the flag is raised!”
“The emperor is dead!”
Outside the palace, a banner fluttered violently in the winter wind.
A revolution with the fewest possible casualties.
The people would remember this night forever.
“Mom, is it over now?”
“Yes…”
Knights stood watch between nobles and citizens, but soon began to move — all toward the palace.
“Can we go to bed now? I’m cold.”
“Not yet. Just a little longer, and it’ll truly be over.”
They knew.
The emperor’s death would be called assassination — but it was expected, almost desired.
Beneath that unspoken truth burned fury… and hope.
For the previous emperor’s reign had been the darkest in Kastan’s history.
“He’s coming out!”
Someone shouted. The crowd surged forward.
At the end of their gaze, a man stepped onto the terrace of the imperial palace —
Lante Oberon Castan, wearing the imperial crown.
“Long live the new emperor!”
“Long live the Kastan Empire!”
Though winter winds bit at their faces, the crowd shouted until their throats burned.
“Long live!”
Lante raised a hand toward the people, flanked by Rosen and Aiden.
“Barhel.”
“…”
Rosen, her hair disheveled and eyes blank, looked out over the crowd.
“They are the people we must protect.”
“…Yes, Your Majesty.”
Lante lowered his raised hand and turned to her.
Rosen blinked slowly — exhausted but resolute.
Because revolution is a tough fight that no one can afford to relax.
“I appoint you as the sole Grand Duke of the Castan Empire.”
