The name that slipped from between Count Grey's thin lips cruelly trampled and crushed every sweet happiness I had enjoyed until moments ago.
'Ian Harper.'
Since being dragged to the Empire as a hostage, it was a name I had never erased from my mind for a single moment, yet it was my true name that must never reach anyone's ears.
The moment that name—my lifeline, which I had buried in the deepest abyss—leaped from the mouth of Count Grey, the sharpest and most ruthless hunting dog of the Imperial Family—
Crack—
I heard the phantom sound of all the worlds I had precariously built up until now collapsing like a sandcastle, emitting a miserable bursting noise.
"...Ah."
A hollow breath, like the groan of a beast, leaked from between my trembling lips.
The hopeful future that had filled my head, and the meticulous calculations toward survival, all burned to ash, bleached white.
Strength draining from my legs as if my bones had melted in an instant, I couldn't even grab the carriage doorframe and thudded down onto the cold marble floor.
The stiff cold climbing from my knees throughout my body froze the blood vessels of my entire body like the blade of a guillotine awaiting a death sentence.
The warmth of Chloe's lips that had touched my cheek until just moments ago felt, in this very instant, like a terrible curse.
"Ian? Ian! Why are you like this all of a sudden? Are you hurt somewhere?"
Chloe, who had been beside me wearing the happiest smile in the world, turned pale at the sight of me collapsed on the floor and grabbed my arm.
The more her warm, desperate touch trying to embrace me reached me, the more vividly and cruelly the guilt and fear inside my chest lacerated me.
She examined my pale face with flustered eyes, then swiftly raised her head and glared at Count Grey, who was looking down at me with cold eyes.
"Count! What did you just say to Ian? Harper? Ian's surname is Sterling. He is Ian Sterling, the noble prince of the South! So why are you calling him by such an unfamiliar name and insulting him as a criminal?"
Chloe's clear voice was trembling faintly.
Her violet pupils swirled with confused emotions.
The Ian she knew was a kind and wise prince of the South, not Ian Harper, the second son of a nameless countryside baron from some rural backwater.
Her mind must have been unable to comprehend this bizarre situation unfolding before her eyes at all.
"Your Imperial Highness."
Count Grey maintained a horrifyingly calm and polite demeanor even before Chloe's furious interrogation.
He bowed deeply to Chloe once more, observing propriety.
"You need not trouble yourself over this matter, Your Highness. It is not yet something you need know, nor is there any need for you to know. It is simply... a trifling yet grave matter concerning this person's identity, directly tied to the security of the Imperial Family, that requires confirmation."
"Identity? What on earth does that mean! Are you saying Ian is some kind of spy? Don't speak such nonsense!"
Chloe gripped her skirt tightly and stepped in front of me.
The visage of the youngest princess, who had always been endlessly bright and fragile, was nowhere to be seen; even a resolute dignity intent on protecting the man she loved from false accusations emanated from her.
But Count Grey's gaze was like unwavering steel.
"Your Highness. You are the youngest daughter whom His Majesty the Great Emperor cherishes most in all the world. His Majesty earnestly wishes that you always see only the pure and beautiful things of this palace and grow up accordingly."
The Count's voice sank even deeper and heavier.
"But this matter is an area of Imperial administration—far too filthy, deceitful, and reeking with terrible bloodshed for Your Highness to bear. It is a matter upon which the dignity of the Empire rests."
"What does that have to do with Ian! Ian was with me..."
"There are some matters within the Imperial Family that must be confirmed, so I shall be taking this person with me for a moment."
Count Grey gently but firmly cut off Chloe's protest and extended his hand toward me, who was seated on the floor.
"Now, shall we go? Lord Ian Harper. No, I suppose this moment shall be the last I call you 'Lord.'"
The Count's large hand gripped my shoulder.
Though the touch appeared exceedingly light on the surface, to me it came with a pressure that felt like thousands of pounds of hot iron chains constricting my entire body.
I looked up at Chloe with unfocused, trembling eyes.
Her desperate, worried violet gaze met mine.
The shy warmth that had touched my cheek inside the swaying carriage just moments ago. And those sincere vows exchanged before the late Empress's tomb, dedicating my life to her...
All those beautiful things were crumbling into nothingness before the fact that I, as an existence itself, was a fake who had committed high treason.
"Your Highness Chloe..."
My voice, barely squeezed out, crumbled grotesquely like a moisture-laden fallen leaf.
I had to say something.
I had to shout that she should believe me, that the wily Count had gravely misunderstood something, and hide behind her.
But what crawled up my throat with great effort was nothing but a terrible sense of defeat and suffocating resignation.
"Stand up. The more you clumsily stall and resist here, the more the lives of your true family—whom I personally brought to the capital—will be endangered."
Count Grey lifted me up and once again drove a sharp, cruel warning like a dagger into my ear.
The South.
The Barony of Harper.
And my mother and brother left behind like hostages in the Kingdom of Sterling.
The moment I realized that since Count Grey knew the name Ian Harper, they must already be beneath the Empire's gleaming blades—the last handful of will to resist within me was completely shattered.
I forced strength into my trembling legs and staggered to my feet.
Chloe grabbed my sleeve urgently with tear-filled eyes, but I couldn't bring myself to hold her hand and slowly, powerlessly, let it go.
"Ian...? No, Ian! Don't let go of this hand! Count, stop this instant! I am asking what on earth is going on!"
"Escort Her Imperial Highness respectfully to the side palace."
"No, let go! Can you not let go of this hand right now! I command you as the Second Imperial Princess, let go—!"
Chloe's desperate screams as she was dragged away by the maids echoed across the imperial courtyard where the winter wind blew.
Her voice trying to hold onto me hurt as if gouging at my chest, but Count Grey was merciless.
Gripping my arm firmly, he began silently walking toward the dark main palace where the Emperor's office was located.
"Forget your child's play now, Ian Harper."
The sound of Count Grey's footsteps walking down the long, dark corridor resounded with the regularity of a drumbeat at an execution ground.
"To be honest, you were quite an astonishing fellow. When that high-nosed Crown Prince praised you as a candidate for the next prime minister and was desperate to keep you by his side, and when that monstrous Princess Victoria, devoid of blood and tears, was infatuated with you... I merely thought you were a lucky, exceptionally bright, impudent bastard of a weak nation."
A thread of admiration, and a far greater rage and contempt, were thickly mixed into his low, suppressed voice.
"But for the mere bloodline of a countryside baron to dare deceive the entire Imperial Family of a great empire, to blind His Majesty's eyes and even aim for the position of the Emperor's son-in-law. I sincerely acknowledge your insane audacity and acting skills. Thanks to you, my quiet vacation to the South ended in a very bloody hunt."
The road to hell was not long.
Before I knew it, we had arrived before the Emperor's office.
From beyond the firmly shut massive ebony door, the suffocating wrath of the tyrant standing at the pinnacle of the continent was chillingly surging forth, as if it would break through the door and burst out at any moment.
"In light of the devotion you silently showed in the Crown Prince's palace all this time, and of your character, I shall give you one final piece of advice."
Count Grey, grasping the door handle, turned to me and whispered coldly.
"Once inside, do not utter any clumsy excuses or pleas for your life. The more you wag your measly three-inch tongue and open your mouth, the more miserable deaths all those you love shall meet. If you confess your guilt and bow your head, well, who knows? You might die by a clean beheading."
Creeeak—
With a merciless, cold hand, the Count threw open the heavy door to the office.
I forcibly moved footsteps that felt weighted with heavy lead and stepped into the room filled with deep darkness and heavy silence.
The Emperor, seated upon the massive throne in the center of the room, slowly raised his head and fixed his gaze upon me.
The flickering candlelight illuminating him writhed up the wall like the shape of a massive demonic hand that would devour me at any moment.
The cruelest and most perfect destruction, arriving without warning at the moment of my most dazzling happiness.
I released the strength in my legs and knelt heavily upon the cold marble floor once more, facing head-on the immense shadow of death tightening around my throat.