1. Let’s cut off the head first, then think about it.
Muratan’s hand roughly cupped the back of Renia’s head. As her red hair tangled around his fingers, a low groan escaped her, and his lips pressed against hers with even greater persistence.
Renia, who had been trying to pull her head back, finally planted her hand against Muratan’s chest and pushed him away. She could no longer tolerate it. But when Muratan wrapped an arm around her waist more tightly, showing no sign of retreat, Renia gathered her strength and shoved him hard.
Staggering back, nearly losing his balance, Muratan steadied himself and tried to catch his breath. Meanwhile, Renia wiped the saliva smeared around her lips with the back of her hand. She frowned deeply and drained the wine in the glass beside her in one gulp. Watching her, Muratan clicked his tongue.
“How long are you going to keep this up? We’re getting married soon. What do you plan to do then?”
As she refilled the empty glass with wine, Renia’s frown deepened. He wasn’t wrong. She knew that. But what was she supposed to do about how unpleasant it felt? She had tried to endure it, considering he was the Emperor and her fiancé, but unfamiliar contact remained nothing but repulsive.
Muratan’s brow furrowed as he watched her openly display her disgust while drinking. They had been engaged for five years. He had told himself again and again that she just wasn’t used to it, that it would get better with time, that she might eventually look his way, that she must not be entirely without feeling since she hadn’t refused his proposal. He had waited five years, comforting himself with such thoughts, yet Renia’s attitude had never changed.
“Your Majesty, I’ve already told you several times that our engagement became void the moment you ascended the throne.”
Muratan’s chest tightened as he looked at Renia asking to postpone the marriage. It had already been three years since he became Emperor. The most beautiful crimson star of the Sadonia Empire, who had placed him on the throne when he was merely the Fourth Prince, was fading before his eyes. And now she was asking to be let go entirely.
If she truly set her mind to escape, Muratan knew he would not be able to stop her. Knowing that better than anyone only made his insides burn.
“Even if you don’t become Empress, you won’t be going anywhere.”
Renia scoffed at his heavy warning.
Since when had this man become so persistent?
At first, his calm and gentle nature had appealed to her, unlike the many other princes who resembled the Emperor too closely. Perhaps she had chosen him because he was a prince without backing, having lost his mother early. He had accepted her blunt and often rude behavior as it was, which made him easy to be around. The process of making him Emperor had even been somewhat enjoyable, but Muratan after donning the crown was no longer interesting.
No, nothing was interesting anymore.
Her late mother had said that being alive was a wonderful thing that made the heart race, but Renia no longer understood that. Nothing and no one fascinated her anymore. Being summoned to the palace every day, being told to marry soon, Muratan’s attempts to bind her were beginning to irritate her.
Two years ago, when the mad emperor Zelda I ascended the throne of the Northern Empire Heimdal, cracks had begun to form in the long-standing peace treaty. Having already swallowed the Eastern Yeo Empire and the Western Pelchan Kingdom, it was only a matter of time before Sadonia became the next target. Thinking it better to return to the familiar battlefield than remain trapped in the suffocating palace, Renia had come to request permission for deployment. Muratan, who had shouted that war was forbidden, had suddenly brought up marriage again and forced his lips on her.
The engagement five years ago had been merely one of the strategies to show that the Eisenstein Marquisate stood behind the Fourth Prince. She had never helped him become Emperor just to be caged within the imperial family. He had clearly promised back then that marriage would not be forced. She could not understand why he was acting like this now.
Renia emptied her glass and set it down on the table before rising.
“I can go anywhere, Your Majesty.”
As she turned away after leaving those mocking words behind, Muratan chased after her, grabbing her arm and forcibly turning her around. Renia tried to shake off his grip with an openly disgusted expression, but he only tightened it further and shouted.
“You may have no blood, no tears, no heart, but isn’t this too much? Don’t you feel even a shred of pity for me, who begs for you like this?!”
“That’s exactly why I’m telling you to stop.”
Renia tore her arm free with force. Unable to match her strength, Muratan clutched his aching wrist and watched her retreating figure for a long time, his face twisted.
—
That very night, Renia, exercising her authority as Supreme Commander, ordered the entire army to prepare for departure. Whatever madness had seized Muratan, someone still had to prepare for war.
More than anything, Renia wanted to leave the imperial capital, Erudan. As she organized her affairs, wondering if she might never return, she ignored Muratan’s persistent summons. She also dismissed the pleas of attendants who came saying the Emperor was not himself.
On a night not long before her departure, as preparations neared completion, the Emperor’s imperial guards stormed her small estate, and she was dragged into an underground prison.
—
Late at night, when even the guards had fallen asleep, the Emperor of the Sadonia Empire descended the long staircase alone, his splendid cloak trailing behind him. Reaching the deepest cell on the third basement level, he stood before the thick iron bars and looked at Renia, who hung there after severe torture.
Chains from the ceiling bound both her wrists. Her once-silken red hair had long since been cut off as it interfered with the torture. Her body was in ruins, yet by the Emperor’s order, her golden eyes and beautiful face had been left untouched.
Blood continued to seep from scabbed wounds. Unable to lean back, she hung by her shattered knees, barely supporting herself. A flash of venom filled her golden eyes as she looked at Muratan, who stood there wearing a gleaming imperial crown and smiled bitterly.
“Renia, how about it? Do you feel like confessing today?”
“You lunatic.”
“I don’t understand why you’re so stubborn. If you tell me where Treitan is, I said I would pardon you.”
Muratan spoke with what seemed like genuine regret, even clicking his tongue as he looked at her blood-soaked knees. Rage surged within Renia.
Treitan, the Fifth Prince, whom she had already cut down long ago for Muratan’s sake, had been eliminated four years prior. She had ensured not even a corpse remained, just as ordered.
And yet, three months ago, Renia had suddenly been arrested on charges of conspiracy and rebellion, accused of trying to place Treitan on the throne. She had been tortured countless times to reveal his whereabouts.
A dead man could not rebel. She had denied it, but fabricated evidence kept appearing. Though she had wanted to tell the truth again and again during the torture, there was no way to prove the death of someone whose body no longer existed.
No—her words were never meant to be heard. Treitan was merely an excuse. They just needed a reason to throw away a hunting dog that had outlived its usefulness.
For the first month, she had raged, insisting on her innocence and demanding to see the Emperor. When Muratan finally appeared, looking perfectly composed, he had simply watched her scream.
Only later did Renia realize that he was the one behind it all. Trembling with betrayal, she had spent another month cursing him, vowing to kill them all. By the third month, she had begun to realize just how stubbornly life clung on, even in such a state.
By the time she had given up and was hanging like a corpse day after day, Muratan began visiting her. No matter how she cursed or spat at him, he came every night, repeating the same words, grinding away at her.
“Just admit your crime and beg for your life. Renia, plead for my mercy. Then I’ll spare you.”
“You can’t admit a crime that doesn’t exist, you lunatic.”
“How can you say that? You betrayed me, deceived me, humiliated me! And yet I still offer you a chance to live—why won’t you be grateful?!”
Muratan shouted so loudly the dungeon trembled. Renia let out a hollow laugh.
“I’m getting tired of this. Enough, Muratan. Stop your nonsense and just kill me.”
As she lowered her head again in resignation, Muratan’s face twisted. Three months was not a short time, and he now understood.
Renia would never yield.
If she would not choose it herself, there was no other way. In any case, she could no longer go anywhere.
Public opinion had begun to sour over the prolonged torture of Renia, once hailed as the Empire’s savior. The rebellion case remained unresolved after three months, and even those who had supported her condemnation were beginning to fall silent. It was time to end it.
“If that is truly your wish, so be it. Your execution is tomorrow. Endure just one more day, Renia.”
Looking at Muratan, who spoke of her death with a face as if he had lost the world, Renia asked with disbelief,
“Fine. I’ll die for you. So at least tell me—why are you doing this to me?”
Muratan, who had spoken so freely before, fell silent. Renia pressed him again.
“I spent eight years for you. Eliminated your enemies, created your justification, took all the credit for wars, and in the end, put you on the throne you wanted. I really don’t understand. Why are you doing this to me, you bastard?”
Muratan’s face twisted more and more as he listened, before he finally spoke in a low, self-mocking voice.
“You were always superior. Arrogant, indifferent Renia Eisenstein. You didn’t love me, nor were you loyal to me. You simply chose me as a piece to prove your own superiority, didn’t you?”
“So what—you’re doing all this because I didn’t love you? Because I wasn’t loyal? After everything I did to make you Emperor?”
“I ascended the throne by my own power. It was not something you gave me.”
“You know better than anyone whose help put that shining crown on your head. So that’s why you’re doing this?”
Her golden eyes filled with mockery. Trembling, Muratan shouted,
“It’s that arrogance of yours, refusing to bend even now, that brought this upon you! Why won’t you beg for your life even once?!”
He spoke with uncontrollable emotion, but Renia dismissed him with a scoff.
“I have no intention of begging you to live.”
“You think death will let you escape me. Renia, even in death, you won’t leave me.”
“You lunatic.”
After that cold reply, she turned her gaze away completely. Muratan stood there, fists trembling, glaring at her for a long moment before staggering out.
—
In the dim underground cell, lit only by a flickering torch, Renia let out a long sigh.
Her execution would take place tomorrow.
She no longer knew whether she had been waiting for this day or hoping it would never come. Her body and mind were both ruined. She simply wanted to rest.
The crimson star of the Eisenstein Marquisate. The savior of the Empire. The sword raised high for Sadonia.
And—
The red-haired madwoman. The bloodthirsty witch. The war fiend. The uniformed killer.
A woman known by countless names, with just as many enemies.
Renia Eisenstein, former Supreme Commander of Sadonia, would have her head cut off tomorrow at the very execution ground where she had once sent so many others to their deaths.
