IBVM 01

Chapter 01

“I want you to live.”
Me too, Your Highness.
I want you to live as well, Your Highness.
So, let’s…
“Marry me, Cassion.”

Hearing Diana’s words, the frail Cassion replied with a face on the verge of collapse.
“You’ve lost your mind.”

Diana Viola Irenberg was a woman admired by all in the kingdom.
She was the only daughter of a duke’s family—a lineage that had helped found the kingdom and possessed immense wealth, enough to swallow a small country, thanks to their business acumen over generations.
On top of that, she was beautiful and intelligent.
So, Diana lived her life without worry.
Except for losing her parents in an accident at the age of twelve.

After comforting her in her grief, her uncle, Count Kolkos, became her guardian.
Through Count Kolkos’s introduction, Diana met the first prince, Dayson, and immediately fell in love.
The heiress of the kingdom’s top family and Crown Prince Dayson naturally became engaged.
If only her parents were still alive, her life would have been perfect.
A life seeing only beauty, eating only the finest food, wearing only luxurious clothes. Everyone was kind to her, and everyone envied what she possessed.

So Diana could never have imagined that, at twenty-one, she would be heading not to her wedding, but to the guillotine.

“Diana Viola Irenberg, come forward to receive your sentence.”

Shaking as if struck by lightning, Diana staggered toward the guillotine.
As she passed, the crowd hurled insults at her.
“For deceiving the noble royal family and the kingdom’s people, attempting to overthrow the state for selfish gain, you shall be executed!”

Standing before the guillotine, the king’s representative shouted again.
A roar erupted like thunder.

“Wait! Our lady would never do such a thing!”
Diana’s maid, Janice, pushed through the crowd, shouting desperately.

At the sight, Dayson’s face, watching the execution unfold, twisted with anger.
“What are you doing? Execute her quickly!”
He urged the executioner to proceed immediately.

Janice, trying to reach Diana, was blocked by the royal guards. Formalities related to the execution were quickly skipped.
Diana glared long at those hastening her death.
Her fiancé, Crown Prince Dayson, led the execution instead of clearing her name.
Even as Diana pleaded, reminding him of their love and saying it was all a misunderstanding, he coldly retorted:

“I never loved you. I only needed your money and power.”

‘What a trash of a man.’
Click—the executioner fastened Diana’s wrist to the guillotine. She pressed her cheek against the wooden plank, glancing at the woman next to Dayson.
Her cousin Bella leaned against Dayson with a sorrowful expression. Diana felt bile rise from her stomach.

“Poor Diana. Sit quietly and play your little wallet game. Why suddenly try to run the family? That’s why everything was taken from you—money, family, fiancé.”

Not long ago, Bella had visited Diana in the underground prison, mocking her and claiming she and Dayson were in love.

“Since when? Since when with Dayson…?”
“From the start. From the very moment you met him.”

Hearing this, Diana felt the ground beneath her give way. Her life shattered.
She shook the prison bars, shouting she would never forgive them, but Bella only sneered. Trapped like a newborn, Diana felt helpless.
Recalling that moment, her anger flared. Her eyes blazed, though she could barely stand after harsh imprisonment.
Every insult and curse pierced her heart like a dagger.

But she was too early to give up.
She thought of the kingdom’s legend:

“If three or more doubt a death, the soul shall be saved.”

Diana didn’t believe in legends. She loved fairy tales, but was not foolish enough to mistake them for reality. She preferred money, jewels, and sweet words from others over fairy tales.
But now, she believed. She trusted desperately. If a castle could be built on faith, hers would be an impregnable fortress.

“Those who doubt the criminal’s death, raise your hand.”

Most procedures were skipped, but those questioning the execution could not be ignored.
Clinging to hope, Diana desperately waited for someone to step forward for her.
But there was silence. Time passed mercilessly.
‘Is there truly no one who will cry for me?’
Her last hope dashed, Diana lowered her head in despair.

Then—

“Miss! Stop! Our lady would never do such a thing!”

Janice struggled, pushing the guards aside, her face streaked with tears and snot.
Diana’s heart pounded with hope.

‘Two more.’

Had her desperation worked?

“I cannot accept Diana’s death!”

Next appeared a woman with flowing red hair—Chlo.
She was Diana’s aunt. A blood relative of her mother she had hardly met.
Diana, who had only considered Count Kolkos’s family her kin, had just learned her mother’s sister was alive in the kingdom.
Had she known she would face death, she would have spoken more with her aunt. Tears of regret streamed down Diana’s face.

The king’s soldiers surrounded Chlo and Janice; blades pressed beneath their chins.
Diana clenched her jaw and stared fiercely. Her fists trembled.
She shouted as if tattooing the scene into her memory:

“Let them go!”

But the restraints only tightened.
Diana lamented her helplessness, praying desperately:
‘Please, just one more! Give me a chance!’

The executioner tilted a smile, as if knowing her every thought.
As he raised his hand, the metal bindings on her arms tightened.

“By indulging in luxury and mocking the people, insulting the royal family, and plunging the kingdom into chaos, the crime is severe. In the name of King Karman of Petroira, you are sentenced! Execute the criminal!”

“Ugh—ugh!”

Diana shook her head frantically to buy time.
‘Still one short! One more! Even if false, let someone doubt my death! Please, please!’

But her struggle was futile. The crowd’s cries for her death grew louder.
Tears streamed down Diana’s face—not of fear or sadness, but of rage.
‘Ah… if there is a hell! I’ll wait for you there!’

Boom—
The drum signaling execution echoed. The fifth beat would drop the guillotine.
Boom, boom—

As the drummer raised the stick for the fourth beat, a sudden fierce wind blew.
A deep voice resonated across the square:

“Wait. Everyone’s too impatient, aren’t they?”

“Who’s there? Once an execution starts, it cannot be stopped!”

The executioner yelled, searching for the voice, but could find no one. Annoyed, he grabbed the drumstick and played himself.

Boom—
The fourth beat sounded.

Just as the fifth was about to fall—

“Cassion Lichte Petroira!”

The voice came again, louder from above.
“Even if considered dead, I am a prince of this country. No mere executioner can stop me, right?”

“What?”

The executioner looked up—and saw a man riding a wyvern high above the execution site.
Though distant, his golden eyes were sharp as if seen up close.
In his hands, he held the long-lost treasure of the royal family.

Lowering the wyvern, the man leapt to the execution ground.
No one doubted his identity; his features matched the prince who had disappeared years ago.

“Y-Your Highness?”

Diana’s eyes widened.
Cassion, whom she thought dead, now stood before her—grown, healthy, and breathtakingly beautiful.

“Long time no see, Diana.”

Broad shoulders, subtly flexing muscles, jet-black hair swallowing sunlight, and golden eyes unreadable in depth—he captivated her gaze.

Diana swallowed hard.
“Are… are you really Cassion, Your Highness? You’re… alive?”

“Thanks to you. Looks like you’re in a bit of trouble yourself. I came to repay my debt, fortunately not too late.”

Diana remembered immediately.

“The day I fled, you saw me but stayed silent. That delayed the pursuers. And the jewels you gave me helped me escape danger several times. You saved me.”

What had been a trivial favor to her, Cassion had held in his heart, enough to appear at her execution to repay it.

Everything felt unreal. Diana couldn’t believe what was happening.
Everyone who had once whispered sweet words turned their backs once she was imprisoned. Even those she trusted as family.
Yet, Cassion, who had helped her only once, now came to her aid.

“Do you need help?”

He winked, his once cold expression warm like sunlight.
Diana nodded almost hypnotically.

The returned prince stood before her, casting a deep shadow over her. A strange sense of relief washed over her.

“I, Cassion Lichte Petroira, cannot accept Diana’s death.”

The prince stepped in to fulfill the legend, to protect Diana, falsely accused of treason.
A ripple spread through the crowd; Diana’s face lit with hope.

The legend’s condition was met. Something great might save her.

“…”

Yet no immediate change occurred.
Her hope faltered.
‘As expected, legends are just legends.’

Still, she was not too disappointed. Three people had risked themselves for her.

“Thank you, Your Highness. I will never forget, even if I die.”

She whispered softly, vowing to avenge herself even in death.
Amid the commotion, voices urged her execution.

Cassion knelt, meeting her eyes.

“No debts here. You saved me once, so I saved you once. Now we owe each other nothing.”

“…”

“And you, giving up too quickly?”

Before she could ask, he whispered:

“I want you to live.”

Boom—
The drum echoed again, the guillotine raised.

And just as she thought it was truly over…

‘Don’t worry, Diana. You will be saved.’

Cassion’s voice resonated in her mind.
‘Is… this a magical message?’
The only way to convey words without sound was a mage’s magic message.

Diana’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth to answer—but could not produce the sweet voice she was known for.
The guillotine fell, and she died.

Ironically, the last thought before death was of Cassion.

‘Your Highness… you were a mage?’