A New Time Begins
In the dead of night, Rhea quietly opened her bedroom door.
A grey-haired, middle-aged man waiting just outside bowed his head. He was Kasim, Chief of the Royal Guard.
Rhea and Kasim slipped silently through the corridors. Thanks to Kasim's intimate knowledge of the guards' patrol routes, they reached the sanctuary deep within the palace without crossing a single pair of eyes.
"We'll watch from here."
Rhea took up a position in a shadowed corner with a clear view of the sanctuary door.
Before long, someone approached the royal guards stationed at the entrance. Kasim's brow furrowed. It was not a shift change, and the newcomer was not dressed as a soldier coming on duty.
Hmm?
Watching two of the guards leave with the stranger, Kasim's brow twitched.
"Not yet."
Rhea whispered. Kasim checked the impulse to rush out and shout them down.
Not much time passed before another figure appeared. The slender build belonged to a woman. She paused at the sanctuary door, glanced about, then drew a key from her clothes and unlocked it.
Kasim's brow twitched again. The key to the sanctuary was kept in the palace vault. It could not be removed without the king's permission.
The instant the woman opened the door and stepped inside, Rhea spoke.
"Now."
The two of them ran. Rhea shoved the door open and shouted.
"Stop, Neria!"
The woman startled and spun around. The veil slipped from her head, revealing a familiar color of hair and a familiar face. Neria faltered, panic written across her features. Then she bit down on her lip, seized a crystal dagger, and bolted up onto the altar at the center of the sanctuary.
Above the altar, a round orb the size of a human head floated in the air, radiating a gentle light.
Neria raised the dagger in both hands. In the instant before she could drive it down with all her strength, Rhea reached out.
Stop her!
A violent gust summoned by the spirit slammed into Neria.
"Kyaa!"
The blast of wind lifted her off her feet and sent her tumbling from the altar. Rhea kicked the crystal dagger far out of reach, then grabbed the fallen Neria by the collar and hauled her upright.
"How dare you."
Fierce hatred burned in Rhea's eyes. And yet her heart was cheering. How long had she waited — how desperately had she hoped — for this day to come.
"How could you!"
With a blazing stare, Rhea put every ounce of her strength into striking Neria's face, slap after merciless slap.
"Ah! Aah! S-stop!"
Slap! Crack! Slap!
Blood streamed from Neria's nose and stained her collar red. Her face swelled. Even as Rhea recognized the cruelty in herself — the pleasure she took in another's pain — she could not stop her hands.
Only when Neria fainted did the beating cease.
"Haa… ha."
She must have been holding her breath through it. The labored gasps came all at once, belated and raw.
Kasim stood half-dazed.
Y-Your Highness?
He had watched Rhea since she was a child. The kind, gentle princess who had always seemed like a heroine from a fairy tale felt, in this moment, like someone else entirely.
"Sir Kasim."
"Y-yes. Your Highness!"
Kasim snapped to attention before he even realized he had done it.
"This is treason. The criminal attempted to destroy the kingdom's holy relic."
Rhea searched the unconscious Neria's clothes, found a signal flare, and smiled coldly.
Had Neria destroyed the relic and climbed the tower to fire that flare, the enemy forces waiting outside would have scaled the walls and poured into the palace. No — it had already happened once.
That tragedy would never be repeated.
"She meant to summon the enemy into the palace. You are my witness, Sir."
Kasim straightened, nodded with a grim set to his mouth, and drew a whistle from his coat. A heavy, low tone rolled through the dark. Soon people would wake, and lights would kindle throughout the palace.
Rhea looked down at her red, swollen palms, then clenched her fists tight.
Nella's voice echoed in her ears.
I did it, Your Majesty.
Her clenched fists trembled. Exhilaration, relief, fear — a flood of feeling, all of it tangled together.
Yes, Your Majesty. I know. Today is not the end — it is only the beginning.
To protect her brother, her nanny, Penny, and every precious soul she had saved tonight, she could not afford to rest here.
The mastermind who had brought down the Kingdom of Zephyros. The culprit who had stolen every hope Rhea possessed. The enemy, too, of Nella, Queen of Nortia.
The future emperor — and, at present, the First Prince — Enoch.
Preventing his ascension was the greatest purpose of Rhea's return.
Ahren, King of Zephyros, ordered a thorough investigation, and the full picture came to light.
Behind Neria stood the former queen, Jaran. One by one, the members of Jaran's faction who had joined the conspiracy were uncovered as well.
Ahren was badly shaken. Without his knowing, the kingdom had been rotting from within.
"Your Majesty. The princess requests an audience."
"Show her in at once."
Ahren, seated at his desk, lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot; he had scarcely slept in days.
"I simply cannot understand it, Rhea. Why would the former queen do such a thing?"
Ahren had treated his stepmother with the utmost respect. He had given her quarters in the eastern palace and provided generously for her dignity. He had cherished her two children — his half-siblings — as if they were his own.
"I know the reason."
"What?"
"Rami is not Father's child."
Ahren's mouth fell open. The youngest, Rami, had been born after the late king's death — a posthumous child. He had turned five this year.
"The holy relic will not respond to Rami."
Those of royal blood were required to receive the relic's blessing before their seventh birthday. All this time, Jaran had postponed the ceremony, using her grief over the late king as her excuse.
If the former queen's infidelity were exposed, she would be struck from the royal lineage, and no one would take in a woman so disgraced. And so Jaran had borrowed outside power to kill Ahren and place her young son on the throne. Once she held power, there would always be a way to wriggle free.
Ahren let out a long breath, buried his face in his hands, then lifted his head.
"Did a prophetic dream tell you that as well?"
"…Yes."
Rhea had hidden the truth — that she was living a second life. She had said only that she had received an oracle of prophetic dreams. She did not want him to know of the life she had endured after he died. That suffering was not something she wished him to carry.
"It isn't that I don't believe you. But we should confirm it."
He turned to his aide.
"I will take Rami to the sanctuary this afternoon. Make the preparations."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Rhea went down to the underground dungeon.
"Neria."
Neria, who had been curled on the wooden bed in the corner of the cell, sprang up and ran to the bars. She clutched them and burst into tears.
"Sister. Sister, please get me out of here. I—I only did what Mother told me to. I wouldn't have been able to destroy the relic. I would have failed, and nothing would have happened to the kingdom."
No. You succeed. The thousand-year Kingdom of Zephyros falls because of what you did.
"Did you really think that if you betrayed your country, you could become an imperial princess consort?"
Neria's eyes wavered.
"W-what are you talking about, Sister."
"An imperial prince isn't so idle that he'd sneak into this distant desert kingdom just to seduce you. The man you met was nothing but an errand boy. And when things went wrong, he already ran."
"…He was such a dignified, kind man. Wise and honest. He couldn't have deceived me."
Rhea gave a scornful little laugh, and Neria's face twisted.
"You have to pay the price of your foolishness. The day you leave this place, you'll see your last sunlight."
Rhea turned away, cold. A scream tore from Neria — a raw, breaking aaaah — and Rhea slowly looked back.
"You always looked at me with those eyes. Pretending to smile. Pretending to be kind. Looking down on me the whole time!"
Neria clutched the bars and shrieked. Watching her cry and glare with such naked resentment, Rhea let out a hollow laugh.
Inferiority. For a reason as petty as that.
"I see. So that's how it was."
Had she been the only one who thought of them as sisters?
Rhea turned away again. Even though the desperate calling from behind sounded like a scream, this time she did not look back.
Neria and Jaran were executed. It was confirmed that the five-year-old prince was not the late king's child.
Those who were to die, died. Those who were to live, lived.
Ahren publicly declared that the hero who had saved the kingdom from crisis was Princess Rhea.
He summoned her to a private sitting room. Over tea, he spoke.
"It's all thanks to you."
"You believed my words and made a swift decision. You were the one who settled everything, Brother."
"It is thanks to you. Do not diminish your own merit. That is a royal command."
"Yes…"
Ahren, who had been looking at her with such fondness, spoke again, his expression darkened.
"We've pruned the rotten branches, but the roots are the problem. I don't know if we have the power to touch the Empire."
Rhea set down her teacup.
"Brother. There's a fact we must be clear about. The mastermind is not the Empire."
"Not the Empire?"
"It was the work of the Empire's First Prince, Enoch."
"Rhea. Isn't that the same thing?"
"It's different. To be precise, the First Prince acted on his own. He tried to use us as a sacrifice — to build his achievements and solidify his foundation. The Emperor was not involved."
Since the day she had spoken of receiving an oracle, Ahren had been watching his younger sister, who had changed somehow. She still smiled often, but it was no longer the naive, sunlit smile of a princess who knew nothing of the world. Her gaze was as hard as flint, honed by suffering and trial. It felt less like looking at a little sister who needed protecting, and more like looking at a person who had already endured the full weight of a life.
"Brother. You need to face reality. We are not prey worth the Emperor's trouble to covet."
Ahren let out a quiet breath and nodded, without argument.