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Chapter 1
‘Calling this a stew feels like an insult to real stew.’
It was watery—like a carrot had just swum through it. Naturally, there were no solid ingredients inside.
Ever since the First Prince had ordered, “Just give them enough to not die,” the amount of food had drastically decreased. At first, it had been barely edible, but for the past three days, nothing solid was visible. Someone was clearly fishing out all the chunks on purpose.
Light crept in through a tiny, hand-sized window drilled in for ventilation, casting a faint glow on Eluana. Her green eyes shimmered mysteriously in the sunlight.
Before picking up the stew bowl on the floor, Eluana gathered her tangled golden hair and swept it forward. Her hair hadn’t been washed in so long that it clumped together and brushed against her back, drawing a faint moan from her parched lips.
Her back felt like it was burning. She barely swallowed the sobs that threatened to escape and exhaled slowly. Ever since being imprisoned in the tower, Eluana had been beaten daily. The count increased by one each day, and the growing violence had long since shredded her back to ruins.
‘I’m not in pain. I can endure this. It’s okay.’
Chanting a mantra to herself, Eluana barely managed to steady her mind and glanced behind her.
Her six-year-old younger brother, Louis, lay curled up on a damp cot. Confirming he was still asleep, Eluana scooped out about half of her stew and poured it into Louis’s bowl. She then added water to her own bowl to fill it up.
The diluted stew was so thin it was nearly transparent, but drinking it like this made it feel like she was eating stew, not just water. The moldy scent of the prison overpowered the stew’s smell anyway. She gulped down the watery soup, leaving a little behind on purpose. When Louis woke up, she could say, “I already ate. You should eat too.”
‘I’m hungry.’
Overwhelmed by the urge to chew something, Eluana began chewing on her hair. It tasted dusty and foul, but just the act of chewing brought a strange comfort. If only her hair could turn into honey-lavender bread.
It was even the right color—why couldn’t it?
As she chewed diligently, the clock tower’s bells rang out. Dong. Dong. Dong… The twelve chimes meant the sun had reached its peak.
Staggering toward the window, Eluana looked outside.
A freshly displayed severed head was hanging. The wide-open eyes seemed to be staring at something in terror, and the gaping mouth still looked like it was screaming. Blood trickled down the wall—it hadn’t been long since the execution.
From her cell at the top of the prison tower, the view was uncomfortably clear. Eluana recognized the head.
“…Mary.”
Her breath caught, and her heart pounded wildly. They hadn’t been close. As a noble, Eluana had always been distant to Mary, who had been too shy to become a friend. Still, she’d had a cute smile.
Now, she would never see it again.
“Is something wrong?”
Louis’s voice came from behind her.
The freshly awakened child rubbed his eyes. His once-chubby cheeks had sunken in just over a few days, and his once-bright pink eyes were now dull and lifeless.
Eluana forced herself to stay calm, pretending to be unaffected.
“Mary’s been hung up.”
Though her explanation was sparse, Louis understood instantly. Another citizen had been executed and displayed above the city gate.
“…Why?”
“For another stupid reason, I guess.”
The Empire’s First Prince, Regis Pegimul Fortuna, had endless reasons to kill people: dust on a trinket, because it rained, bad mood, bland food, someone didn’t greet him…
That lunatic prince.
The thought that someone like him could become Emperor meant the Empire was truly doomed.
The only reason Eluana and Louis still had their heads was because of their noble surname—“Vita.” Though they held no lands or titles, they were still nobles and couldn’t be executed without trial. Their father, Ron Vita, had gained fame through the sword “Glorious Night of Mortality and the Silence of the Black Sun”, which had sold for a thousand gold at auction.
Louis fidgeted with his small hands, then grabbed the hem of Eluana’s tattered clothes.
“Don’t go. Stay with me.”
Her heart dropped. His fear seeped into her like ice water. Eluana forced a smile onto her lips.
“Where would I go in this tiny prison?”
“But… Mama and Papa went to the sky too. If they find out about you, won’t they… cut off your head?”
Louis mumbled that she might end up hanging next to Mary, and tears welled up in his eyes. Eluana quickly raised her voice.
“Don’t say that! Your sister’s not going anywhere. I’ll stay until you grow up, get married, have kids, and they have kids! Until then, I’m not going to the sky.”
“Really?”
“Really. I just decided. I’ll stay until you get tired of me.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Even after the pinky swear, Louis still looked anxious. His eyes kept drifting toward Eluana’s battered back.
To change the subject, she brightened her tone.
“I was hungry, so I ate first. You should eat too.”
Louis’s gaze shifted to the stew bowl on the floor. Starving, he picked it up and drank it in large gulps. There were no chunks to choke on—it didn’t even need a spoon.
After finishing, he stared at the empty bowl for a while. It was a pitiful amount for a growing boy. Eluana reached out and ruffled his pink hair.
“Even if you’re hungry, try to hold on.”
“Why was your stew so thin?”
He was sharp for someone so small.
“Maybe because I drank too much water? You should drink some too—it’ll help fill you up.”
Satisfied with that explanation, Louis poured water into his bowl and drank it all again.
“If you’re full, try sleeping more. Moving around makes you hungrier.”
Eluana gently laid Louis back on the cot and pulled the musty blanket over him. He obediently closed his eyes.
“My stomach feels weird.”
“Probably because you drank too much water.”
He needed to fall asleep quickly—deeply. Maybe even fainting would be better. The clock had struck twelve, which meant Regis would arrive soon. That madman.
‘What a piece of garbage.’
Why was he acting like this in a rural backwater estate?
There was a royal villa behind the lord’s manor, but the last time royalty had visited was a hundred years ago. Eluana had once thought they should just tear it down and plant corn. Too bad Regis had actually shown up.
If only a storm or earthquake had leveled it beforehand… Aden might have remained peaceful.
She and Louis would never have been imprisoned. She’d be in the forge, and Louis would be running around like a wild child. Come to think of it, she was supposed to deliver a sword to a merchant group today. But what use was a delivery date when she might not leave this cell alive?
What were the orcs doing? Why hadn’t they come and taken the prince yet?
‘Dad, if it’s too hard to send orcs, can you at least send a lightning bolt?’
She silently wished for a miracle from Ron, who must be watching from heaven—just as the sound of footsteps echoed up the stone stairs. Her nerves flared. Goosebumps pricked her skin.
“Stay under the blanket and don’t move.”
She whispered to Louis, pulling the blanket over his head, then approached the cell bars.
As expected, Regis and his attendant appeared at the end of the hallway. Regis held a thin, willow-like branch in his hand, as always.
Glass shards were embedded at the tip of the flexible branch so that each lash embedded them into flesh. It was a World Tree branch, gifted by an elf—it bent but never broke. The idea of using something so sacred to beat people would probably send elves into mourning.
Eluana gripped the bars as she watched Regis approach. Just seeing his blood-red hair and eyes made her back scream with phantom pain.
‘If only this door wouldn’t open today.’
Then maybe she could avoid today’s beating.
Her hands clenched tighter. Her heart pounded so violently that she felt nauseous. Her knees weakened, and she gripped the bars even harder.
Regis stopped just short of the bars.
“Are you here to greet me? Decided to tell me where Ron Vita is?”
As always, he asked about her father’s whereabouts. And as always, her answer remained the same.
“I don’t know. My father never leaves his destination. He’s traveling for inspiration. There’s no schedule or plan.”
A lie, of course. The one who had made the sword Regis sought—“Glorious Night of Mortality and the Silence of the Black Sun”—was Eluana herself.
Last spring, her father died in a carriage accident, and at fourteen, Eluana became head of the family. A young girl couldn’t sell swords under her own name, so she used her late father’s name to continue the business.
She should’ve stayed low. But her cursed talent brought fame instead. Regis visited Aden and immediately sought out the forge to place a personal order with the rising star.
When told that Ron Vita wasn’t available, Regis picked up one of the display swords and tested its strength—then pulled out the “Crown Prince’s Sword,” supposedly made by dwarves from mithril.
At the time, Eluana hadn’t worried much. Just figured she’d have to make a new sword.
But the sword that broke was the Crown Prince’s Sword.
“Witchcraft! You used sorcery! That’s the only explanation!”
Regis had thrown a fit.
“You dared deceive royalty with evil intent! Imprison them all and capture Ron Vita!”
He’d screamed like a lunatic.
Just remembering it boiled her blood.
A dwarven-forged mithril sword couldn’t have broken that easily. If it snapped against a plain steel sword, it was likely a counterfeit. The dwarves wouldn’t joke about their craft. The palace must’ve mishandled it—or swapped it.
And she was the unlucky one who took the fall.
If she confessed now that she made the sword, she’d be executed on the spot. So she clung to the lie: “My father is away traveling,” stalling for time.
Not that time had provided a solution.
“I really don’t know.”
“Is that so? A shame, then.”
Regis’s crimson eyes shimmered strangely as he stared at her.
“Will you be taking all the lashes again today? It’s eighteen now.”
