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Chapter 74
“Your Highness.”
“Hm?”
“Are you alright?”
Alexander turned back to look at Tiago. His eyes showed no emotion at all.
Then Alexander forced a big smile and waved his hand.
“I’m fine. I’ve always lived like this. I’ll be going. Do your job well, Tiago. I trust you! I believe in you, Tiago!”
With that, Alexander left.
“……”
But Tiago was still uneasy. The look in Alexander’s eyes lingered in his mind.
Alexander Alone
Alexander sat at the huge desk in his office. He had already finished all his work for the day.
People called him a lustful prince obsessed with women. That wasn’t entirely wrong, but whenever his betrothed or secret mistress died, Alexander threw himself into work even more obsessively.
In truth, he had never neglected his duties. If work piled up, he would stay up all night until it was finished.
His only flaw was that he never knew how to deal sincerely with people. That flaw had followed him since childhood.
Whenever he tried to show true feelings, he was scolded.
“Stop crying, Alexander! Wipe those tears immediately!”
Even now, he could almost hear his father’s furious voice.
Alexander buried his face in his hands, the instinctive habit he developed whenever he felt tears coming. Behind his hands, his face twisted.
He remembered himself as a helpless child.
“F-father… but… Mother, Mother…!”
The day his mother died.
That was the last day he ever cried. He had been so young he could barely even hold a sword properly.
He hadn’t known then, but later he learned the truth: his mother’s death had also been caused by the misuse of a curse orb.
Even now, Alexander could never forget the foul stench of the curse orb that lingered in her chamber. Sometimes he thought he could smell it again.
He tried to chase away the grief by putting on a cynical mask.
‘The women of the imperial family are always the same. Either cursed to death, or driven mad by curses.’
But the heaviness in his chest wouldn’t go away.
Slowly, tears welled in his eyes.
Again, he heard his father’s stern voice in his mind:
“A man who sits on the throne sheds no tears. He feels no sorrow. He trusts no one. With a heart this soft, how dare you aim for the throne?”
Alexander’s expression hardened into a cold smile. Even his tears seemed to dry up.
“Ha… hahaha! Hahaha… Yes, Father. How could someone hoping to be emperor cry over something like this? Hahaha! I find this situation funny. Absolutely hilarious. Hahahaha!”
His laughter burst out violently, his suppressed sobs twisting into laughter instead. It was the kind of sound that would make anyone shiver if they heard it.
“Sophie, Michaela… how foolish you both were. Father, isn’t that right? Didn’t you call Mother foolish too? Foolish and weak—that’s why she died. Hahaha!”
In the empty room, Alexander threw back his head and laughed madly.
“Yes, Father, you were right. Women always leave so easily. That’s why I never loved them!”
He hadn’t truly loved Sophie. Nor Michaela. Because he was always afraid they would leave him, just like today.
And yet, a small part of him had made space for them. In some distant future, when he was no longer emperor, he had imagined perhaps living peacefully with one of them.
He stopped his bitter laughter and smiled thinly.
Now everything was clear.
‘Don’t trust anyone. No one in the imperial family can be trusted. I’m alone.’
He swore it to himself.
To him, Sophie and Michaela’s deaths were betrayals. Just like the betrayal he felt when his mother had left him behind in death as a child.
Those who left him were “traitors.”
‘Good thing I never trusted them.’
He lied to himself.
Now there was no one beside him. But that feeling—being alone—was all too familiar.
‘In the end, all I can feel toward people is disappointment. I will trust no one. Never.’
He rubbed his face harshly with his hands and let out a long sigh. His eyes gleamed strangely.
Looking into empty air, he smiled crookedly.
‘Yes. Time to get back to work. First, I’ll have to choose a new Crown Princess candidate.’
He spread out a piece of parchment on the desk, pinned down its edges, and quickly wrote across it with his quill.
When he finished, he returned the quill to its holder, rose from his chair, and left the office.
On the parchment, written in neat letters, were the words:
Agenda: Prepare to welcome a new Crown Princess.
The Assembly
The grand conference room was rectangular. Less ornate than the banquet hall, but still a display of the Pignon Empire’s wealth.
From the ceiling, a large circular chandelier blazed with candlelight. Portraits of past emperors lined the walls. The long oak table was plain, but the chairs were carved with ornate patterns.
More than thirty or forty people were present—officials, nobles, knights, and esteemed guests—but the chamber was silent as if empty. Everyone held their breath, waiting for Prince Alexander.
Among those present were Delphine, Edward, Leo, and Frederic.
—Step. Step. Step.
Alexander entered without warning.
—Creak!
Chairs scraped hurriedly as everyone stood at once to greet him.
They bowed their heads, stealing glances at his expression.
“……”
But his face betrayed nothing. Unlike when Sophie died—then, he had at least pretended to mourn.
Now, there was nothing. No expression, no trace of feeling. Like a scarecrow emptied of everything.
He took the central seat. Everyone else sat down after him.
He parted his dry lips.
“The reason I summoned you here today…”
His eyes swept across the room, empty and unreadable.
“…is to deliver very tragic news.”
Silence. Everyone already knew what was coming.
Many of those gathered had originally come for his coronation and the wedding to his Crown Princess candidate.
Now, everything depended on how Alexander framed Michaela’s death.
If he chose to cover it up, as with Sophie’s, the Pavillon Ducal House would not stay silent.
But if he ordered a full investigation, it could spark yet another bloodbath in the empire.
Everyone held their breath.
“Lady Michaela… has left us.”
“……”
He scanned their faces one by one, eyes sharp, as if trying to catch the culprit by expression alone.
No one met his gaze. The air grew heavier with tension.
“This incident has left a deep wound on the empire. On me personally as well.”
“……”
“And I will not let it pass. The truth will be uncovered, and the ones behind Michaela’s death will be punished—without mercy.”
“……!”
Truth. Culprit. Punishment.
The words made the entire room shudder. Some gasped sharply, others stared wide-eyed in horror.
Everyone knew this meant bloodshed was coming.
But Alexander continued with the same blank face, as if he had expected their reaction.
“All of you gathered here—”
He smiled suddenly, the first time that day. But it was a chilling smile, not warm at all.
“—you will not leave this palace until the investigation is over.”
“……”
Anxious glances flicked back and forth. This was no legal decree, but no one dared challenge it. To object could mean immediate execution.
“…Understood?”
“Yes.”
The reply was reluctant, forced. The atmosphere grew heavier still.
Alexander seemed satisfied. His gaze shifted and fixed on Edward.
Edward felt it but kept his head bowed, showing nothing.
“And one more thing.”
“Yes.”
Whispers of reply echoed around.
“Since this happened within the imperial palace, the investigation must be led by someone independent. Someone not tied to the imperial family.”
Alexander turned his head toward the restricted entrance—where only royalty could come and go—and nodded.
