CHAPTER 14
“All done.”
Though it was only a hurried bandage using her dress fabric, it looked fairly decent.
Adrian looked down at his tightly wrapped arm with a pensive expression, then asked,
“Why did you come out to this forest alone?”
“Oh, I was trying to find where we parked the carriage…”
Eatrice replied casually, but then the noblewomen’s gossip from earlier crossed her mind—rumors of the First Prince being insane, suffering from madness.
“Then why are you, Your Highness, out here alone with no guards?”
“You think any knight would volunteer to become my retainer? They’d basically be announcing the end of their career.”
“I suppose that’s true…”
But that wasn’t enough of a reason. It was already well known that Adrian kept no knights, soldiers, or even attendants around him.
Even the maids who did chores tried to avoid him, leaving quickly after completing their work, fearing his sharp temperament.
“They say the prince wanders the imperial forest alone at night. His madness is getting worse!”
Eatrice recalled what one noblewoman had said earlier.
Could it be that Adrian had been wandering the forest, consumed by madness, even before encountering the assassins?
His strange calmness in the face of death wasn’t the only oddity.
Now that she thought about it, the rumors of the prince being reclusive, refusing to see anyone, and lashing out at those who came near him had started after the death of the deposed Empress—his mother.
The series of events—from her false accusation to her tragic death—had been horrific. It wasn’t hard to believe it had left a lasting impact on the young prince.
That thought flickered through her mind.
“Your Highness, perhaps…”
Eatrice chose her words carefully, knowing this could be a rude question. But once the thought crossed her mind, a quiet suspicion began to grow.
“Perhaps what?”
Adrian looked puzzled as she hesitated mid-sentence.
Eatrice swallowed hard.
She knew she was treading dangerously close to questioning the prince’s capability as a ruler. But as someone sworn to serve him, it was her duty to ask. It was an important matter.
“Forgive me, but is there a particular reason you keep no guards or attendants by your side?”
She added,
“I don’t believe them, but there are certain… rumors spreading among the nobility.”
“You mean the ones saying I’m mad?”
Adrian asked directly, without any attempt to soften it, throwing Eatrice off guard.
“You show up out of nowhere, kill two assassins, say I should use you, and now you’re asking if I’ve lost my mind,” he said, eyes gleaming with bold amusement.
“That’s not what I meant—”
“Isn’t it? So, what do you think?”
“What do I think?”
Eatrice, confused by the question, averted her gaze briefly before looking back at him.
She had expected him to be annoyed or offended, but instead, Adrian looked… oddly pleased.
“Do I seem mad to you, like they say?”
Standing against the moonlight, his deep smile made him resemble a large, dark feline predator.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Oh, please. More precisely, you’re wondering if I’m defective as a royal heir, aren’t you?”
Adrian’s low voice dropped further with the eerie wind. He squinted at her, clearly entertained by her cautious wording.
Eatrice stared at him for a moment, then shook her head.
“No.”
Adrian didn’t seem like someone who had lost his mind.
In truth, the reason she brought this up wasn’t suspicion—it was concern, because of the Empire’s outdated rules.
Anyone who was physically or mentally impaired could not ascend the throne. No exceptions were made, even if the injury occurred while fighting for the Empire.
Before the regression, the Nobles’ Faction had used this rule to send Adrian to the northern frontlines.
When they failed to kill him through assassins, they hoped the brutal battlefield, where monsters charged in daily, would at least maim him somehow.
She could easily imagine those nobles, desperate to rip off a finger or an eye from the First Prince just to dethrone him.
Fortunately, Adrian now, though bleeding and sluggish, appeared mentally and physically intact.
“You don’t seem even remotely mad. You’re in no way unfit to be emperor. Honestly, it’s hard to believe someone like you faces constant assassination attempts.”
“That’s exactly what drives my enemies mad.”
No matter how many times they tried to eliminate or disqualify him, he remained whole—no limbs lost, no mental instability.
The Nobles’ Faction was surely seething.
They needed Adrian off the throne to give Second Prince Vincent a chance.
“Then I’ll see you again later.”
As their conversation ended, Eatrice excused herself first.
Adrian, soaked in blood, couldn’t show up at the banquet like that. He needed to return to his residence and change.
“Will you be alright going back alone?”
Adrian asked.
“You saw earlier, didn’t you?”
Eatrice gave a short reply and turned to leave. Adrian watched her retreat into the woods.
No matter how long he looked, his eyes couldn’t follow her far. The forest swallowed her silhouette.
“One body was found beneath that tree, and two more near the path,” said Knight Hella, who had been searching the woods with imperial guards.
Duke Kaidel surveyed the surroundings.
Dark red blood stained the grass and tree trunks, and various blades were scattered across the ground—evidence of a fierce battle.
Just as Louis was about to suggest they each search separately for Eatrice—
“There’s a hair ornament here!”
A soldier held something high in the air. In the moonlight, a crimson gemstone flower sparkled brilliantly.
“Duke, that’s—!”
Knight Hella, who had been by the Duke’s side when Eatrice’s dress was ordered and again when she entered the carriage that day, immediately recognized it.
It was the same ornament that had gleamed like a drop of blood atop Eatrice’s silver hair.
With large strides, Kaidel approached and snatched the ornament, staring at the jeweled petals.
It was unmistakably hers.
He had chosen and gifted it himself—he would never mistake it.
But then he noticed it: faint, yet undeniable bloodstains smeared across the gemstone petals.
“Could this really be Eatrice’s?”
Louis, who had rushed over, asked. Seeing the blood, his expression hardened just like the Duke’s.
Kaidel couldn’t answer.
Instead, his hand clenched around the ornament as though he might crush it.
Meanwhile, Eatrice walked through the dark forest.
‘My body’s aching.’
The muscle pain was finally hitting her. She quickened her pace, intending to reach the banquet hall before Adrian did.
She’d originally left thinking it was pointless to remain there without the prince—but now that she knew he would attend, she had every reason to return.
Though the way she found that out had been… rough and dangerous.
‘Honestly, I was lucky earlier. I only won because of the darkness and the surprise attack.’
It wasn’t false modesty.
If her dagger hadn’t hit, or if the moonlight had been a little brighter, she wouldn’t have won.
Her opponents weren’t amateurs—they were seasoned assassins. If they hadn’t been shaken by their comrade’s sudden death or underestimated her because she was a girl, she’d have ended up as another corpse in the grass.
‘That victory was only possible because of luck. If I’m going to protect my lord, I have to get stronger.’
She couldn’t rely on luck forever. Eatrice renewed her resolve.
‘Fortunately, I still have a chance—an opportunity to receive proper sword training.’
Until now, she had only faced Hedon. It was easy to forget her limits.
Using her entire body for a single strike in such a small frame had clearly taken a toll.
“…And now what do I do with this sword?”
She realized only now that she’d been carrying it all along.
“I should’ve left it back where the assassins were. This’ll only cause problems.”
She had held onto it out of habit. Even as a knight, she’d always had a particular attachment to her sword.
With no divine power or magic, what else could she rely on but a weapon?
With a long sigh, she made up her mind. Keeping the sword might draw unwanted attention.
After all, the people she had killed tonight were Adrian’s enemies. If it became known that she’d taken them down, whoever ordered the assassination would surely notice her.
Especially tonight, when most of the Imperial and Noble Factions were gathered at the banquet. Even if she tried to suppress the story, it would spread like wildfire.
‘At least the dress color helps cover the blood.’
Her deep crimson gown was perfect for hiding stains. Thankfully, the blood hadn’t splattered much, and what did wasn’t easily noticeable.
‘I’ll have to ditch the sword.’
She had to pass by the same path again to reach the stables near the banquet anyway.
But then—
“Eatrice! Where are you?”
“Louis?”
Hearing her name called, Eatrice murmured instinctively. She also spotted flickering lights in the distance—torches held by soldiers.
‘They must’ve found the bodies already!’
The search party was drawing closer.
Eatrice calmly flung the sword deep into the woods. It sliced through the air with a soft whip, disappearing into the darkness.
The moment the weapon vanished, she hardened her expression.
“Eatrice! Where have you been? I was worried sick!”
Louis rushed toward her, weaving through the trees.
“I got lost while looking for the stables to return to the estate.”
“Thank goodness. You could’ve been in real danger—three bodies were found in the forest not far from the banquet hall.”
Hearing her answer, Louis sighed in relief. His lemon-colored eyes and downturned lips lifted into a relaxed smile again.
“Lord Eurean! Did you find Lady Bellanel?”
“Yes, over here! Lady Bellanel is safe!”
At Louis’s shout, the soldiers gathered, their torches converging in the darkness.
Louis turned back to Eatrice with a grin.
“Everyone was looking for you. You’re not hurt, are you?”
“No.”
Eatrice shook her head, but Louis’s gaze scanned her up and down in concern. His sharp eyes suddenly stopped at her collarbone.
His smile faltered for just a second.
“What is it?”
“Aren’t you cold? Here, wear this.”
Frowning, Eatrice asked, but before she could protest, Louis took off the red ceremonial cape draped over his uniform.
Before she could say a word, the thick, smooth cape was wrapped around her shoulders.
“What the—? I’m not cold.”
She tried to shrug it off—it dragged along the ground, too long and too heavy—but Louis stopped her.
Their eyes met, and she gave him a sharp look as if to say, What are you doing?
Louis leaned in and whispered near her ear.
“You’ve got blood on your shoulder.”
