Upon hearing Leon Bening’s words, the expressions of the ministers siding with the King hardened. The fact that the Count had personally stepped forward sparked a movement, prompting his supporters to echo Leon’s demand.

“Appoint the Second Prince as Crown Prince and depose the First Prince!”

The King met the Count’s gaze, seeing in him a man eager to control the court by setting Kyle up as a shield. He glanced at the ministers joining in on the call to depose the First Prince. What lay in their eyes wasn’t ambition; it was a petty greed to feed on the scraps that fell from the enormous carcass of power.

“Your Majesty, this is the will of your subjects. Please make your decision.”

The weight of the crown felt heavy on the King’s head. He did not see Kyle, the one defying him, as a criminal. He understood the Second Prince’s resentment toward him a hundredfold, even felt pity for him. Nevertheless, the King took up his sword—to strike down the blade pointed at him, aiming it at the Second Prince.

His sins, his karma.

The twisted truth and the altered futures of his children had led to this—the consequence of clashing swords with his own flesh and blood. What had been the right path? The King gripped the armrest of the throne, wondering if a different choice back then might have prevented this.

Should he have sent Helene away as a concubine, allowing the shadow of power to consume her? Should he have killed his own heart, loving Mary instead as he loved Helene?

“I shall never regret this decision.”

The King recalled Helene’s smile, the memory of being able to love her above all else before she passed. His attendants' gazes faded into the background.

Louis, Kyle, Michelle. Blame this powerless father.

“I…”

All eyes turned to the King.

“I shall never depose the First Prince, Louis.”

The chamber, poised to devour him whole, fell silent. Facing the hostility radiating from those around him, the King pronounced his words slowly, so even the most deafened among them could hear.

“Moreover!”

The King’s eyes turned to Leon Bening.

“The title of Crown Prince is not limited to just the First or Second Prince. Seeing how the First Prince and Princess have grown, I believe it is time for me to hasten the decision of succession.”

At last, the King abandoned Kyle, bearing the weight of his guilt and responsibility like firewood thrown into a blazing inferno.

Yet it was not a noble act. It was simply that he was stepping onto the pyre he had stacked, setting it alight himself.

“But I shall never appoint the Second Prince as Crown Prince.”

This time, the ministers began to murmur.

“How can I entrust this throne to one so easily swayed by the wicked and the corrupt?”

“Your Majesty! How could you?”

The ministers, startled, began protesting. As expected, Leon Bening responded without a flicker of hesitation.

“Your Majesty, can you truly call supporting the Second Prince wicked?”

“My stance is resolute. If you are so determined to have the Second Prince enter the race for the throne, bring forth a proposal better than calling for the First Prince’s deposition due to his birth.”

Leon Bening offered no further rebuttal nor resistance to the King’s words.

“Those who still believe my decision is wrong may speak now.”

The silence following the King’s words and Leon Bening’s stillness gave the ministers siding with the King a moment of courage. One finally stepped forward, mustering his bravery.

“Your Majesty’s words are absolutely correct. Deposing the First Prince over a scandal would destabilize the kingdom’s very foundation.”

The King’s gaze met the Count’s, both focusing on the minister who now shrank back, trembling. The King nodded to him.

“You are correct. Your words mirror my own thoughts exactly.”

The King raised his voice.

“Anyone else who wishes to speak may step forward.”

Silence returned to the hall. Leon Bening, showing no sign of further pushing his agenda, simply bowed his head. Amid the tense quiet, the King sighed to himself, unseen by all. Days like these would keep returning, and he could feel a headache settling in.

“Then, let us move on to the next item.”

The meeting ended without further incident. As the ministers left, murmurs filled the air. Most glanced nervously at Leon Bening, but none dared approach him. Leon watched them as if observing a school of fish.

“Why didn’t you press further?”

Except for one. Emil Borden approached him, his expression tense. Leon gazed at Emil thoughtfully before finally answering.

“There was no point. Emil, no matter what I say, the King won’t depose the First Prince nor appoint the Second Prince. The people of the capital are already stirred.”

Leon’s gaze turned to the ministers hurrying out.

“And besides, I’ve already gained what I wanted.”

Near the entrance of the hall, a man with a pale face approached the Count slowly. It was the Second Prince, Kyle Loire, who had heard every word spoken in today’s meeting.

==

“I will never depose the First Prince.”

The King’s voice had sounded so alien.

“How can I entrust this throne to one so easily swayed by the corrupt?”

How could you say that? You’re the one responsible for all of this!

Kyle ground his teeth, his mind reeling from the King’s true feelings, pounding at his mental walls like a battering ram. He took a shaky breath, his head spinning, gripping his sword hilt to steady himself, though his racing heartbeat wouldn’t slow.

“Now, do you understand?”

A voice called to him, red hair gleaming, a witch’s mocking smile.

“What… do you mean by that?”

His words came out haltingly, but Lilia only laughed softly. Even through his blurred senses, her laughter cut sharply through.

“Do you dare to mock me?”

“Yes, Your Highness. I mock you—for denying the truth you’ve finally faced, for wanting to pretend it doesn’t affect you, even as it shatters you.”

Kyle exhaled slowly, his head spinning. His vision blurred, and his memories shattered.

“Who… who here is despairing?”

Kyle leaned on the wall, feeling as if his knees might give way. The witch across from him, unbothered by his struggles, continued taunting.

“Despair, Your Highness? Isn’t that exactly what you’re feeling? The once unshakable Second Prince, crumbling from a single word from the father who betrayed him.”

“Silence!”

Shing—

The Second Prince unsheathed his sword, breathing heavily, his eyes bloodshot. As if defending himself from an approaching enemy, he pointed his blade at her. Lilia stepped closer, her voice sticky and dark.

“Tell me honestly, how do you feel right now?”

“I said, be silent!”

Lilia touched the blade, blood dripping from her fingers, staining the sword.

“Always hiding, aren’t you? Your half-brother grew up under one mother’s care while your sister resented her real brother and revered the half-brother as if he were the real one. And your father, still pining for his dead queen, gave you nothing.”

“Enough!”

Swish.

Kyle’s blade slashed through her, but the witch’s body split in two, spilling blood across the corridor. The sight clouded his vision, nausea rising as laughter echoed around him.

“You truly are a coward, Your Highness. Denying your heart even in the face of truth—what else will you lose?”

The blood pooled, the bisected corpse reforming as she touched his hand, guiding his sword back into its sheath. Kyle, gripped by despair and fear, stared at her, her eyes vivid in the crimson world.

“Say it again, Your Highness. How do you feel?”

Kyle’s voice shook.

“Disappointed. Despairing. Ashamed that I ever had hope… and…”

His eyes, red and unfocused, narrowed.

“Angry.”

The witch’s smile spread, eerie and beautiful.

“Do you feel that anger?”

“Murderous rage.”

“And where does that rage come from? Despair? Anger?”

“Jealousy, disappointment.”

Wanting what he could never have, what he yearned for.

The restraints Kyle unconsciously held against the curse shattered, his faint hope for the King collapsing into bitter jealousy toward the First Prince. Lilia’s smile grew.

“Precisely. Acknowledging your rage—and recognizing that it stems from something raw and primal.”

Her hand touched his face gently.

“Now, with your deepest emotions laid bare, what comes next?”

Kyle drew a deep breath.

“I’ll make it reality. Reclaim what is mine.”

The witch laughed, her voice rich with malice.

“Now, the Count will leave the meeting soon. Do you know what to do?”

Kyle nodded, hearing the distant murmur of ministers. The witch’s smile faded as she dissolved into the shadows.

==

Emil Borden barely masked his unease, watching the Second Prince approach, his expression tense and ominous.

“I see. So that’s how it is.”

“Your Highness.”

Leon Bening and Emil Borden bowed, their faces betraying nothing. Kyle, engulfed in despair after learning of his father’s feelings, seemed lost. Disappointment? He’d been disappointed for so long since learning the truth of Louis’s birth. The curse and his true feelings, forced to the surface by the witch, dragged Kyle into a dark abyss.

“My choice to seek out the Count was not mistaken.”

His voice was low, and Emil saw the blood-red in his eyes. Beside him, Leon Bening spoke softly, his voice a warning Emil recognized from their dealings.

“Your Highness, are you no longer wavering?”

Kyle nodded, and Emil had to suppress his reaction. The storm was coming. Kyle’s clenched fists trembled.

“I shall draw my sword.”

Leon smiled faintly at the anger in Kyle’s eyes, while Emil fought to hide his dread.

“Tonight, I will reclaim my place.”

Kyle declared it.

“My worthless sibling and sister will fall, and I will bring down the King who mocked and betrayed me.”

“Preparations are in place, Your Highness.”

Kyle ignored Leon’s words and moved forward.

“We must act with utmost secrecy.”

Leon followed, his smile holding a sinister hint of the impending disaster.

“Yes, Your Highness. Swiftly and in absolute secrecy.”

Emil watched them disappear, dread gnawing at him. His daughter, Marion, was in danger. No, everyone in the palace was in danger. His breathing grew rapid as he foresaw the crimson storm about to descend.

“Emil.”

Leon Bening called to him, his smile leaving a lingering chill.

“Yes, my lord.”

“You know I trust you, don’t you?”

Emil nodded slowly, uneasy with Leon’s penetrating gaze.

“Yes, I know.”

Leon’s blue eyes, sharp and knowing, seemed to pierce Emil’s heart.

“Good. That’s enough.”

Leon continued after the Second Prince. How much time was left? Emil glanced at the setting sun, his hand reaching inside his coat, fingers brushing a small vial—the King’s hard-won gift.

“Someday… I’ll need this.”

Confirming the vial’s presence, Emil followed after Leon.