Chapter 20

— — —

I squeezed my eyes shut.

I had expected this.

And yet, even knowing it might happen, my body trembled uncontrollably. It wasn’t just from hitting the ground.

“Your Highness, are you hurt?”

Damian leapt down from the horse and pulled me up. I pressed my shaking palm into the dirt and forced myself upright.

“I’m… ngh. I’m fine.”

Nothing felt broken.

I lifted my head—and glared.

A man strode toward us with deliberate menace. Messy silver hair curled around sharp features. Golden eyes gleamed with arrogant amusement.

He looked like the Emperor in his youth.

If there was one person in the palace I had ever avoided—despite fearing no one else—

It was him.

“…Vincent.”

His name slipped from between clenched teeth.

First Prince Vincent Elbon Friese.
The Emperor’s legitimate son.
First in line for the throne.
The man who would become Crown Prince in five years.

Of course it’s him.

Just seeing his face made bile rise in my throat.

For eighteen years in the palace, Vincent had longed to see me ruined.

Until he was named Crown Prince, only the Emperor and I knew the secret of the refined stones. Perhaps that was why he hated me—why he resented the private meetings, the whispered conversations he was excluded from.

Every inconvenient accident.

Every political misstep pinned on me.

Vincent had always been behind it.

There had been a time I enjoyed watching him seethe.

The legitimate heir threatened by a half-blood.

The Empire at my feet.

At least… until the day the Emperor discarded me and threw me into the underground prison.

Arrogant.

Looking back, that conversation had been the spark.

I had just left a meeting with the Emperor when Vincent cornered me in the garden.

If he hadn’t provoked me, I would’ve walked past.

But I had been drunk on power.

“Vincent, are you so insecure you feel threatened by a mere half-blood?”

“What?”

“If you truly believe you’re fit to be Emperor, perhaps you should study governance instead of picking fights.”

“You wretched little—”

“Between a nameless half-blood princess and the legitimate heir crowned only a year ago, no one would call me your rival.”

I had never wanted the throne.

But I had scratched at his pride anyway.

And Vincent, in return, dug into the secret of the refined stones… and sealed my fate.

The real vermin had been me.

Vincent’s sneer cut into the present.

“So I wondered what tantrum drove you to run away…”

His gaze shifted to Damian supporting me.

“Well now. This is better than I expected.”

A low chuckle.

From his perspective, this was a gift—two thorns in one place.

Damian stepped in front of me, sword leveled.

“I’ll skip formalities. Why not continue on your way, Your Highness?”

“Oh? Have you lost your mind?”

Vincent laughed lazily.

“This is why I begged Father to exterminate your house long ago. Look at you—no fear at all. Is that rebellion?”

“I don’t recall being treated as an imperial subject.”

“How shameless.”

Vincent drew another arrow.

The prince’s personal arrowhead gleamed in the dawn light.

“They say you’ll soon become a Swordmaster, Grand Duke’s son.”

He pulled the bowstring taut.

“Let’s see.”

He was enjoying this.

He knew Damian couldn’t strike him directly. Attacking a prince would give the Emperor justification to annihilate the Carter house.

Damian’s grip tightened.

This is bad.

There were too many of them.

The Emperor hadn’t just sent scouts—he’d sent the Second Guard. With Vincent.

We’d already lost one horse.

If we misstepped, we were finished.

I slowly reached for the dagger sheath at my waist.

With my other hand, I tugged Damian’s sleeve.

His green eyes flicked toward me.

“Don’t respond,” I whispered. “When I count to three, get on the horse and run. That direction—where they haven’t fully surrounded us.”

“…What?”

“I know you don’t trust me. But listen.”

Even if he blocked one arrow, protecting me while fighting them would slow him fatally.

“I’m baggage. Understood?”

His eyes widened slightly.

After a brief hesitation—

He nodded.

“Bring the princess to me!” Vincent called mockingly. “I’ll spare her life and reward you!”

The bowstring drew tight.

“One… two…”

Just as he released—

I yanked the “dagger” from its sheath and hurled it straight at him.

Thwack!

“—Ahh!”

“Three! Now!”

Vincent staggered. His arrow flew wildly off course.

Damian seized me, vaulted onto the horse, and kicked hard.

“Hyah!”

Chaos erupted behind us.

“Cough—! Cough!”
“Your Highness!”
“What is—cough! I can’t—!”
“Protect the prince!”

I nearly laughed.

It worked.

Birch pollen.

In spring, birch blossoms were notorious for triggering allergies.

And Vincent’s allergy was infamous in the palace.

I’d learned it by accident years ago.

Who would’ve thought it would save my life?

The knights clustered around Vincent, blinded by sneezing and watering eyes. They couldn’t pursue immediately.

I ducked low against the wind.

“Don’t slow down! Southwest!”

The forest blurred around us as the horse thundered forward into the deepening dawn.