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CHAPTER 31:
Cruel Hope
Sunlight streaming through the large window settled softly on long silver hair tinged with shadow.
Not a speck of dust marred the glasses perched perfectly on the bridge of his nose.
Without those glasses, one might easily believe he was not in the imperial palace, but in a sacred temple offering prayers to the gods—so devout and noble did he appear.
It was Illeon.
Seated on a plush sofa, he sipped a cup of chamomile tea, looking down at an older man with graying hair kneeling on the cold floor.
“How did it go?” Illeon asked.
At his question, Ben flinched. Though a large man, he bowed deeply before replying.
“He drank every drop.”
“And the letter?”
“I burned it, my lord.”
“Then the effects should begin in about two hours.”
Illeon smiled gently.
He had handed Erpia the poison, but deliberately withheld key information.
The poison didn’t take effect immediately. Instead, it slowly melted the skin, grotesquely twisting the face in agony comparable to being stabbed with a blade.
It wouldn’t kill, but the pain would be excruciating—and in the end, the victim’s face would be left monstrously deformed.
“Um… and about what you promised…” Ben asked hesitantly.
Illeon narrowed his eyes.
“You did your job well. As promised, you’ll be given passage to a foreign land and enough money to live in leisure for the rest of your life. You’ve suffered long enough by the Empress’s side.”
“…Thank you. Truly.”
Ben bowed repeatedly, then cautiously asked:
“My lord… how are my family back in the estate?”
“Your son married a fine woman and had two children. Your daughter and other sons resemble you—they’re very cute,” Illeon said softly.
Tears welled in Ben’s eyes.
He had once been a top knight of the Duke of Gredrick, and was forced into the imperial palace when Erpia arrived, sent by the former duke—Illeon’s father—to watch over her.
“My half-sister may scheme something. Watch her carefully from the palace.”
Over twenty years had passed. Ben had gained Erpia’s trust but hadn’t set foot in the estate since.
He desperately wanted to see his family but couldn’t—because the former duke had warned that their lives depended on Ben remaining loyal and useful, shadowing the Empress until death.
And so, Ben obeyed.
He carried out silent assassinations when ordered, stained his hands with blood to earn trust—all for the safety of his family.
When Illeon inherited the dukedom, he began visiting the palace occasionally and always gave Ben updates about his loved ones.
That his wife was well.
That his son had turned a certain age.
That his children missed their father.
Illeon told Ben all the stories he longed to hear—stories that tormented his soul with yearning.
Only Illeon did this.
And so Ben swore his loyalty to Illeon.
“I’ll get you out of the palace. You’ll board a ship bound for another land—with your family.”
Ben’s eyes had gone wide. Illeon had smiled and added:
“The Empress will give you poison, telling you to administer it to a woman named Celia. When the time comes, pretend to obey—but give it to the Crown Prince instead. I’ll handle the rest of the script.”
Ben was stunned. He hadn’t expected Illeon to directly target the Crown Prince.
Illeon, who had secretly helped the Empress, seemed the last person to betray her.
But servants should not question the motives of nobles.
Ben’s role was simply to obey, as always.
Now, hope swelled in his chest—he would finally reunite with his family.
“I’ve intentionally loosened palace security under the pretense of preparing for the prince’s coronation. You can leave now,” Illeon said, handing Ben a glittering ruby.
Its value was enough to buy two mansions and still have plenty left over.
“I was going to give this to Her Majesty the Empress—but it suits you better.”
“My lord!”
Ben’s shoulders trembled with emotion as he swallowed tears. Illeon patted his shoulder and said softly:
“Go to the nearest port right away. Once the poison takes hold in the prince’s body, even I can’t guarantee your safety.”
“Y-yes, understood.”
“Go. Your family is waiting at the harbor with the ship I arranged.”
Ben carefully tucked the gem into his robe and stood. Just before leaving, he turned back and gave Illeon a deep bow.
“Thank you so much! You’re the greatest benefactor of my life.”
Illeon smiled warmly at him.
Even in old age, Ben’s movements were sharp—worthy of a top knight of House Gredrick.
As soon as Ben left the palace, a man in a black robe emerged from behind the bookshelf.
“Shall we move now, Your Grace?”
He was one of Illeon’s elite assassins.
Illeon took another sip of his tea. It had gone cold—its aftertaste bitter.
“Yes. Follow him at a distance. Eliminate him once he reaches the harbor.”
“Understood.”
The assassin vanished in a blink.
Illeon smiled at his reflection in the chamomile tea.
Ben’s family had actually died over a decade ago.
Shortly after Ben was sent to the palace with Erpia, his family fell ill and died one after another.
Of course, the former duke kept this a secret.
He only told Illeon when handing over the title of duke.
“That knight knows too much. It would be wise to remove him—it’ll protect your future. The only thing is, he has the Empress’s full trust…”
But the old man’s concerns were unnecessary.
“Just give people what they want.”
Even if it was false hope, they would cling to the dream, never realizing the truth—until they drowned in the very illusions they created.
Illeon muttered to himself:
“…Giving someone a good dream has its uses. After all, without hope, how could a person keep living?”
Meanwhile…
Celia hid behind a stone wall, cautiously watching her surroundings.
Dissatisfied with her white mermaid dress, she had wrapped herself in a robe Dietrich had given her.
Having just left the stables, she saw knights frantically searching the area—combing through bushes and peeking behind columns.
Are they looking for me? she thought, clutching her dagger.
She hadn’t expected the Crown Prince to cause such a stir just because she wasn’t in bed when he woke up.
Men. So dramatic.
At that moment, one of the knights approached her hiding spot.
Celia hesitated—should she return to the stables? Or get “caught” on purpose and be dragged back to the Crown Prince’s palace?
No one saw me leave through the front gates. If I show up walking around, it’ll seem suspicious. But if I claim I was kidnapped, how do I explain being perfectly unharmed?
Celia held her breath and thought hard.
The knight was getting closer.
“I swear I saw a shadow around here…”
Should I use my power? Or the dagger?
She gripped the blade.
Just then, a familiar low voice whispered into her ear:
“This is my territory. What business do you have here?”
It was Dietrich.
Startled, the knight quickly bowed.
“D-Duke Calypso, sir!”
Dietrich wore black armor and a sword at his waist.
His striking features beneath sharp brows shone like the midday sun.
His blood-red eyes stared the knight down.
“That stable houses retired yet once-great imperial warhorses. Surely you’re not here to steal royal horses?”
“N-no, of course not, sir!” the knight stammered.
“The Crown Prince ordered us to find Celia Brillion. She vanished overnight, and His Highness is beside himself with worry.”
“He tore through my estate this morning looking for her.”
“Oh heavens, really?!”
The knight shifted nervously under Dietrich’s gaze.
“You may go now.”
“Y-yes! Thank you, sir!”
Relieved, the knight fled.
Once alone, Dietrich turned and found Celia hiding behind the wall.
He looked over her face, still gripping the dagger.
His voice came out flat and cold.
“As expected. You were trying to run.”
