Chapter 14

— — —

The real training began.

No—training wasn’t the right word.

It was closer to torture.

From the very start, Damian looked as though he intended to grind me down.

“Your posture is wrong. Again.”

I adjusted.

“Your foot placement. Again.”

I corrected it.

“You’re locking your knees. Again.”

Again.

I repeated the same stance more than twenty times.

My wrists tingled. My shoulders burned. My thighs felt like they might tear apart.

And yet—not once did I hear the word good.

Damian corrected me relentlessly. Each time, I had to start from the beginning.

Was he doing this deliberately?

Nitpicking just to exhaust me?

I glanced at him.

He was smirking.

Openly enjoying himself.

…Of course he is.

He wanted me to break.

He wanted me to give up on my own.

If I quit, he wouldn’t have to escort me.

Maybe this was revenge for the annex incident.

But too bad.

I’m not losing.

I clenched my teeth.

After enduring bloodletting.
After being abandoned.
After stabbing myself through the heart in my previous life—

Did he truly think I would quit because my legs were shaking?

Try harder.

The torment continued.

I skipped lunch.

Damian never told me to rest—and I refused to ask.

At this point, it wasn’t training.

It was a contest.

Who would give in first?

Who would break?

Not me.

My legs trembled violently.

Even raising my arms felt impossible.

“Your posture is still wrong, Princess.”

“…I can keep going.”

My voice cracked as I forced the words out.

I could barely stand.

A strong breeze might have knocked me over.

“….”

The smirk faded from Damian’s face.

He stared at me.

Not with satisfaction.

With something else.

Uncertainty.

Almost discomfort.

“What?” I demanded.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and stepped back.

“…That’s enough for today.”

“…What?”

I blinked.

“Didn’t you hear? We’re done.”

“But I still haven’t gotten it right.”

“If you collapse, it becomes my problem.”

…So he noticed.

Before I could argue further, he turned away.

“Same time tomorrow.”

And just like that, he left.

Leaving me alone in the training yard.

“…What is wrong with him?”

Damian Carter

Damian Carter hated Rhea Frieze.

No—hate wasn’t enough.

He despised her.

The Emperor’s prized jewel.
The imperial devil.
The princess who had tightened the noose around the ducal house under the guise of “His Majesty’s will.”

The one who smiled while sanctions were imposed.
While supply lines were cut.
While poison found its way toward his father.

He had never truly spoken with her before.

He hadn’t needed to.

The rumors were sufficient.

Then she appeared at the estate.

Brazen.

Requesting guardianship.

Asking to be protected.

The fury he felt that day had nearly boiled over.

After everything—how dare she?

And now she occupied a room in their home.

Entered his sister’s room.

Demanded to travel west.

So he decided to break her.

If she were truly the spoiled imperial princess he imagined, she would scream at the treatment and flee back to the palace.

If she quit of her own accord, even his father couldn’t object.

But—

“…What is she doing?”

Something wasn’t right.

She endured.

She stood up after collapsing.

She repeated stances without complaint.

He denied her lunch.

Gave no breaks.

Forced her to repeat the same form dozens of times.

And still—

“I can keep going.”

Her face drained of color.

Her body shaking.

On the brink of collapse.

Did she even realize how she looked?

Blue lips.

Unsteady knees.

Eyes threatening to roll back.

It wasn’t satisfying.

It was—

Unsettling.

So he ended it first.

He didn’t plan to.

The words simply left his mouth.

Even back in his room, he couldn’t concentrate.

The text before him blurred.

I never heard the princess was an idiot.

Why endure it?

Why look so desperate?

She could have complained.

Demanded special treatment.

Quit.

…It bothers me.

Damian shook his head sharply.

No.

It wasn’t concern.

She simply wasn’t behaving as expected.

That was all.

He stood abruptly.

The library.

Something dull would clear his mind.

On the way, he passed the guest wing.

Coincidence.

Nothing more.

As he turned the corner—

He saw Mia exiting the corridor.

She carried a tray.

The food untouched.

“Mia.”

“Oh, Young Master.”

She bowed lightly—then sighed.

“What happened?” he asked.

“The princess fainted. I went to bring her dinner, but she didn’t respond. When I entered…”

“….”

“She was collapsed on the bed. I couldn’t wake her at first. She must not have had the strength.”

Mia looked at him pointedly.

“Young Master, even so… perhaps you could go a little easier.”

“…What?”

“She’s frail. And only thirteen.”

Mia had raised him.

She read him easily.

“…It was necessary. She needs stamina to travel west.”

“That doesn’t explain making her skip lunch.”

He had no answer.

Mia sighed softly.

“I understand your feelings. I know you dislike her.”

“……”

“But she is still a child. Thirteen.”

Thirteen.

The same age as the little sister he had lost.

Small.

Warm.

Fragile.

To think that child and the imperial princess shared the same age—

The thought tightened something painfully in his chest.

“…Fine.”

He turned away.

The library no longer appealed to him.

All the way back to his room, something felt lodged beneath his ribs.

Like a thorn he couldn’t pull free.

And it wouldn’t stop hurting.