Chapter 40
Instead, she’d probably throw herself into this war to save him. And since Cyrone already knew that, he seemed determined to keep it a secret from Elia till the end.
“There are no other options, Your Highness.”
To restore everything back to where it belonged, Elia’s sacrifice was absolutely necessary. For that to happen, Cyrone should be kneeling before her right now, trying to clear up all misunderstandings.
Camille scratched her head roughly, wondering if he had no such intention.
At this rate, retirement was out of the question. Camille would have to be the one to carry Cyrone’s body.
“Just thinking about how you clung to her corpse, refusing to move…”
Camille shook her head as if cold chills ran down her spine recalling that day.
The day Elia died. Camille had witnessed Cyrone’s state then and still remembered it clearly.
Even Nielsen hadn’t dared approach Cyrone at that time. Only Camille, holding the title of fiance, was allowed near.
Cyrone, holding Elia as her warmth faded, hadn’t moved for days.
Eventually, he summoned Belial’s soul. Camille never imagined Cyrone, the one who knew better than anyone how foolish his mother had been, would make such a choice.
She shook her head, unwilling to think further about what came next.
“It may sound cold, but Miss Elia was destined to die then. Only by undoing the mistakes can Your Highness truly live.”
Someone might ask why Camille didn’t stop Cyrone then, but she knew she wouldn’t have been able to. As heir to powerless Emperor parents, Cyrone’s life had been fraught with enemies and horrific moments. Yet, he never lost his mask-like composure.
But that day was the first time he looked like he had surrendered all will to live.
“I know how much you love her, but please think of the greater good, Your Highness.”
Camille’s heart burned even darker, yet she knew she had to maintain a clear mind. She pitied Cyrone’s life and felt sorrow for Elia’s heart.
But such was the burden of the throne, such was the weight of an Emperor.
“I don’t even know if I truly love Elia.”
Cyrone said, staring coldly out the window. Dead leaves tumbled across the ground.
“Sometimes I think I want to die by her hand.”
He muttered without much expression, almost unbelievable for someone speaking of their own life.
“Because then she’d suffer because of me for the rest of her life.”
Lately, Cyrone often thought about how to remain deeply etched in Elia’s memories. If she were to take his life with her own hands, she would never forget him. Whether it was guilt or sorrow, it didn’t matter, as long as Elia remembered him for her entire life.
If he could hold her whole heart for many long years, even death would feel sweet.
If that’s what love is… Cyrone looked beautiful. So beautiful that no other word could describe him.
“I love Elia too much.”
Cyrone let out a low laugh while saying “too much.” The sharp laughter slowly faded into the air. Camille felt a chill run down her neck. Cyrone’s face showed that he had already made all his decisions.
“Your Highness!”
Nielsen suddenly burst in, bowing his head, sweat dripping from his face as if he had run a long way. Camille and Cyrone exchanged tense glances.
“Th-that is…”
Nielsen took a breath, speaking as if it was difficult to say.
“The Empress—no, the deposed Empress… has passed away.”
Cyrone’s face instantly turned icy cold. It was the moment the war’s first gunfire had sounded.
* * *
The sun briefly shone before the rain poured down again. It was the day the deposed Empress’s golden crown was buried forever underground. The funeral proceeded quietly without a stir. A gravestone marking her short life was set in the grass, but people couldn’t easily shed tears.
Throughout the ceremony, those watching the powerful noble families discreetly slipped away as soon as it ended. They dared not show too much grief and risk drawing their ire. Those left behind had to find their own way to survive. Even the deposed Empress could not be the center of attention on her way out.
“How tragic. What crime did the deposed Empress commit?”
The maids who served Loran before her dethronement held back tears as they spoke. After the ceremony, only the cold wind swept over the barren graveyard.
“Don’t say such foolish things! What if someone hears?”
The maids, faces hidden by veils, glanced around nervously. They seemed worried someone connected to Hyposis might be nearby.
“It’s not wrong. In the end, they needed the power of the new nobility to counter the meritorious families. Our Empress was merely a pawn used by the new nobles’ faction.”
“There’s Miss Reiffers over there. Watch what you say.”
“…”
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