"The resplendent empire, Edenvale. A land where grains and fruits ripen in every region all year round due to its unique climatic features. Thus, words like hunger and starvation are entirely unrelated, and peace always prevails. Edenvale is coveted by all. However, the atmosphere in the royal palace, or more precisely Edenvale itself, had recently become dangerously tense. This was, yet again, due to Sinclair Butler who had returned unscathed. If Elaina accounted for about half of all the petty rumors circulating in the empire, Sinclair was responsible for the other half. A man stripped of his position as crown prince overnight after he killed a favored concubine of the Emperor right in the heart of the palace—an unmatched brutal murderer. A prince driven mad and possessed by madness. Abandoned by his father, the Emperor, and constantly attacked by his half-brother. It was no wonder the atmosphere turned grim as he, yet again, returned alive.

However, regrettably for the Emperor, Sinclair was not one to be cowed by the disdainful looks of others. Today was no exception. 'It’s already chaos with rumors,' greeted the knight Schuler, who had arrived early to wait for Sinclair's return to the Prince's Palace. 'What now?' Sinclair asked, his expression one of characteristic irritation as he crossed his legs, while Schuler shrugged and continued. 'Everyone’s grinding the rumor mill about what wish you might have asked the Emperor for.' That damned wish. In truth, the Emperor had promised to grant Sinclair’s wish only because he thought Sinclair would never return alive. As Sinclair increasingly became a thorn in his side, the Emperor, grinding his teeth, had delayed the inevitable by sending Sinclair to war with a rival nation. 'His Majesty is basically telling me to go and die,' Sinclair recalled vividly. 'It’s for the empire. If you truly care about the royal family, go and risk your life in battle.' How absurd it had seemed, Sinclair remembered. 'I’m sorry, but does His Majesty think I have seven lives? I’ve never fought without risking my life before.'

But Sinclair knew well. No matter how absurd the battlefield the Emperor sent him to, at this point, he had no choice but to go. 'Since you’re sending me to such a dire fate, perhaps I should set a condition this time.' '...A condition? What condition are you speaking of? Giving you, the disgrace of Edenvale, a chance to prove your royal blood is like handing you a fortune!' 'Yes, well, it might not seem much different when you look at it broadly.'"

"Despite all the excuses and the Emperor's insistence on sending me to die, I, who think of the royal family more than anyone else, if I return victorious after risking my life in battle, I ask for one wish to be granted. Can you not even grant me that? As a son taking to the battlefield, appreciating this golden opportunity as you said?" Contrary to everyone’s expectations, the Emperor accepted Sinclair's condition. Of course, he blatantly reduced the number of soldiers supporting Sinclair, hoping he would not return. Despite the Emperor's efforts, the demon-like Sinclair once again returned alive. Schuler was right; people were talking. Just like Melvin and Melissa had. "He’s trying to become the crown prince again, pushing aside Hister." "No, he might even ask to be given the throne outright, given his audacity." "But the Emperor is still vigorously alive, regardless..." "That’s just ignorant talk. Isn’t he more than human?"

Ultimately, the common belief was that Sinclair, as long as the Emperor lived, could not become the next Emperor but would use his wish to manipulate his way to the throne. The Emperor thought similarly. Believing that the returned Sinclair was plotting to kill Hister and demand the prince's position, he went as far as assigning more than half of the knights guarding him to ensure his beloved son's safety. However, everyone’s predictions were spectacularly wrong. Sinclair's wish was something no one had anticipated. "I think it's time I got married." Although stripped of his title as crown prince, Sinclair was still royalty, and it was a promise made in the Emperor's name. Thus, even if Sinclair asked for a daughter from a prominent noble family, there were no excuses to refuse him. Moreover, it was clear he intended to marry into the nobility, expand his political connections, and grow his power. Eventually, he would tighten the noose around Hister and his own neck.

The Emperor was genuinely frustrated... until Sinclair spoke again. "Since you're suggesting I go die, it shouldn't matter much which woman I want. Be it a barmaid, a street gypsy, or... perhaps a crippled bastard from a noble family." "What, what did you say?" "It shouldn’t matter, right? If my wife is flawed, that would be too good for Your Majesty." "It seems the rumor that I've wished to marry Elaina hasn’t spread yet." "It seems so, but it won’t last long. The whole empire will be buzzing in a few days." Schuler smiled faintly at the evident situation. "So, did the conversation go well, Lord Sinclair?" Then, with a voice dripping with concern unlike before, he asked, "The proposal was properly delivered, right?" Schuler, knowing better than anyone the kind of man he served, asked with increasing worry, but no answer came back. I should have gone with him. Schuler regretted it belatedly, but the milk was already spilled. "How did what I asked you to do go?" "Ah, here it is." Sinclair, who had been lost in thought, changed the subject and asked. Schuler handed over documents that were neatly organized at a glance. Sinclair quietly took them and began to read slowly.

Elaina Aswel's mother entered the Aswel family as a concubine but died of an illness when Elaina was just four years old. "......" The investigation revealed rumors that 'in fact, she was not a victim of illness but was poisoned by the Countess,' yet there was no way to prove it. "Lord Sinclair, your words were correct. At such a young age, she became a burden to the Aswel family," Schuler said with a tinge of pity, while Sinclair responded with silence, continuing to read the document.

Not long after, his gaze paused on another section:

• At the age of seven, her right leg was permanently injured. Again, the exact cause was unclear. "There has been consistent talk among people. Some say she was hit by a drunken count and fell down the stairs while trying to escape; others say that Leyla Aswel and the Countess conspired and broke her leg with a club," Schuler elaborated.

"......" "Without hearing it from her, we can never know the exact truth. But what's certain is that after her leg was injured, Elaina Aswel became a completely different person. Just like now."

Schuler's expression showed pity. "Before then, she was quite lively and bright, appropriate for her age. Truly......" As Schuler continued his report, he noticed Sinclair's lack of response and narrowed his eyes, quietly waiting for an answer.

"No," Sinclair finally spoke, though his response was not easily understandable.

"Excuse me?" "It wasn't because of the Aswel family that she ended up like this."

What did he mean by that? Schuler looked puzzled, but Sinclair had already set down the report. He then looked at Schuler and continued, "That's enough for now. I need to rest."

"Ah, yes."

Schuler was not without his doubts about this marriage. He could not understand why Sinclair would choose to throw away his opportunity to make a wish from the Emperor and why he would want to marry Elaina, who seemed to offer nothing substantial. But Schuler couldn't pry; the Sinclair before him was visibly upset, suddenly and greatly.

In such moments, it was wise to simply follow his commands, Schuler knew very well. "Then I will take my leave, Lord Sinclair. Rest well."

With that, he respectfully made his exit, and a leaden silence settled over the spacious room. Left alone, Sinclair clenched his mouth shut and stared at the report Schuler had left on the table.

"Thinking of running away? With that leg, it would be impossible," he mused, recalling his conversation with Elaina. And... that leg. Unlike her healthy opposite leg, it was slightly atrophied, faintly visible under the hem of her worn dress, overlapping with the plump legs of a healthy child, a painful reminder of her plight.

And then, the memory of a leg trapped without a single gap between huge rocks flashed through his mind. "Don't leave me alone..." Even the desperate scream echoed.

"Damn it," Sinclair cursed quietly, his face crumpling like a piece of crumpled paper as he tightly shut his eyes, as if believing he could escape the memories of the past.