Chapter 17

— — —

“…What do you mean you can’t find the Princess?”

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty.”

Inside the Emperor’s private chamber, a knight knelt stiffly, head bowed.

“We confirmed that Her Highness left the capital. However, she appears to have deliberately switched carriages multiple times. Her trail vanishes midway. At present, we cannot determine her exact whereabouts.”

“How is that possible?!”

Bang!

The Emperor slammed his fist against the armrest of the sofa. The sound echoed sharply through the chamber. Every knight present stiffened.

“You’re telling me the Princess shook off pursuit intentionally?”

“……”

“I asked if that makes sense!”

“…I accept punishment by death.”

“Ha.”

The Emperor dragged a hand through his hair, disbelief etched across his face.

Her trail disappeared?

Whenever Rhea stormed out of the palace in one of her childish “protests,” she had never once attempted to hide her tracks.

Of course she hadn’t.

She enjoyed watching the knights scramble desperately to locate her.

So what was this?

It had already been ten days.

Normally, she would have returned by now—pretending pride while secretly expecting to be coaxed back.

But now? No word. No trace.

And she had evaded pursuit.

Something was wrong.

“However, Your Majesty.”

“What.”

The knights exchanged uneasy glances.

“Speak!”

At the barked order, the captain swallowed.

“There is information suggesting Her Highness’s trail vanished along the northeastern route.”

“…What?”

The Emperor’s gaze darkened.

“The northeast… contains only the Carter Grand Duchy.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Silence.

“The Carter Grand Duchy?”

“…It is only speculation.”

The Emperor’s jaw tightened.

Why would that girl go there?

What was Rhea Frieze?

A foolish, arrogant executioner—drunk on wealth and authority—who had never once questioned her origins.

For twelve years she had believed, without doubt, that the Emperor was her father.

She had carried out cruelty after cruelty in his name.

And now she flees toward Carter territory? Concealing her trail?

Impossible.

Unless Rhea had somehow grown wise overnight—

Unless she had discovered the truth of her blood.

But that was impossible.

The Emperor himself had burned the Carter family’s carriage at the bottom of that cliff.

Every trace erased.

Aside from Edgar—his most loyal instrument—no one knew Rhea’s true origin.

It was a secret buried completely.

“No. There is no way she went to the Carter estate…”

He shook his head.

“No.”

Rhea Frieze must never learn the truth.

Not until the Carter line was completely extinguished.

“…Your Majesty. Regardless of motive, the highest probability is that Her Highness has sought refuge with the Carters.”

“Silence! Shut your mouth!”

The captain fell quiet immediately.

But doubt lingered in his eyes.

What is that half-blooded princess that His Majesty reacts like this?

The imperial nuisance.

The shameful bastard.

For over a decade, Rhea Frieze had been called that—yet only the Emperor treated her with strange, anxious indulgence.

A peculiar illegitimate child who received more attention than even the Empress’s legitimate heirs.

Now, the Emperor stood there, eyes bloodshot, biting his lip like a man on the verge of panic.

Is there something we don’t know?

The captain’s suspicion rose—

And was crushed beneath the Emperor’s murderous glare.

“This cannot be left alone. I cannot rely on incompetent knights…”

He muttered obsessively—then snapped his eyes open.

“Bring the First Prince. Immediately.”

His lips twisted into something vile.

“If she refuses to return willingly, we will drag her back.”

* * *

It was finally the tenth day of training.

“Assume the stance.”

At Damian’s command, I planted my feet shoulder-width apart, bent my knees, and set my fist forward.

Ten days ago, I couldn’t hold this position without shaking.

Now—

I was steady.

Balanced.

It was hard to believe this was the same body that had nearly collapsed after half a lap.

Damian circled me, inspecting. After a moment, he gave a curt nod.

“At this level, you won’t be dead weight.”

He tossed it out casually.

…Wait.

Was that praise?

It had to be.

I forced myself not to smile.

Don’t look pleased.

But inside, I was practically glowing.

“Good work. We leave tomorrow morning. Be prepared.”

“Aha.”

A small sound of triumph escaped before I could stop it.

Damian’s eyes cooled.

“…Is this a picnic?”

By now, I was immune to that level of provocation.

“I told you. I have something to do.”

He studied me.

Lately, he had been looking at me like that more often—like he wanted to ask something but chose not to.

“Be at the front gate at five.”

“In the morning?”

“One minute late and I leave without you.”

Of course.

Never a single word delivered kindly.

“Understood.”

“That’s all for today.”

He began tidying the training ground.

We were finished while the sun was still climbing.

For the first time in ten days, we ended early.

I watched him briefly—then slipped away toward the main building before he could order me to help.

Today, I leave first.

A small victory.

As I turned down the corridor—

I stopped.

Someone stood at the far end.

Carlos.

Wearing a robe. Pale. Dry-eyed. His complexion bloodless from miasma.

Our steps halted at the same time.

“Training finished?”

He spoke first.

“Yes.”

I nodded.

“They said I won’t be a burden.”

“Seems you can pass for a person now.”

Short. Flat.

We stood there, facing each other like strangers in a silent standoff.

Then his pallor caught my eye again.

A body eaten away by miasma.

A body that couldn’t last a day without purification stones.

A man enduring pain daily—without complaint.

The Emperor hated him because he was a threat.

Poison. Extortion. Slow strangulation.

But the one who handed the Emperor leverage—

Was me.

Under the title of “Princess.”

Under the illusion of being “the Emperor’s daughter.”

The one who led cruelty against the Carter house—

Was me.

The version of me before regression.

Stupid. Arrogant.

Blindly obedient.

Without knowing he was my real father.

I treated him as an enemy.

Used him.

Drove him toward ruin.

If I hadn’t returned, I would never have known.

After forcing down a dry breath, the words slipped out before I could stop them.

“Please eat properly.”

“What?”

His brow creased faintly.

“I taught Mia the recipes that help detoxify miasma. Just… don’t skip meals.”

“That is not something the Princess needs to concern herself with.”

“I won’t be able to bring you lunch for a while.”

“I will handle it.”

You didn’t handle it before.

That’s why you’re like this.

But I had no right to say that.

Carlos studied me briefly, then turned to leave.

“Um—”

I called out without thinking.

He glanced back at me.

Those red eyes—so similar to mine—dry and distant.

I hesitated.

What did I want to say?

“…I’ll be back.”

It was simple.

A farewell.

To him, I was an intruder. The Emperor’s daughter. His enemy.

Perhaps it was unwelcome.

But I wanted to say it anyway.

“……”

He did not respond.

He only looked at me for a long moment.

Then he turned and walked away.

No answer.

Not even as he disappeared.

I watched him go.

Of course he wouldn’t reply.

He had no reason to.

And yet—

Something in my chest ached.

…I’m sorry.

I whispered it only inside my heart.