Chapter 1
Heavy footsteps echoed up the stone stairs of the old northern castle.
“Did he return without sending word?”
Juliana quickly stood from her seat. But Braeden was faster. Before she could leave the room, he opened the door.
Once a month, the leaders of each province traveled to the capital through portals connected to the Imperial Palace to meet with the Emperor.
It had only been three days since Braeden Ortis, Grand Duke and protector of the North, had left for the capital. His return was earlier than usual.
“If you had sent a message, I would’ve come to greet you,” Juliana said, looking at him.
Now that he was close, she could smell the familiar crisp scent of wind that always clung to him.
“It made more sense for me to come up than for you to come down.”
He glanced around the room as if it were obvious.
“I was going to end up here anyway, so why make it more complicated?”
He suddenly pulled her close, wrapping his arm firmly around her waist.
The attendants standing behind Braeden quickly lowered their eyes, pretending not to see.
“Braeden!”
Startled, Juliana pushed against his shoulder, but he only gave her a small, amused smile as he quietly shut the door.
The soft click of the latch was followed by complete silence.
Then, like someone who had been starved for her, Braeden pressed his lips to hers.
The soft warmth of his mouth met hers, and a wave of shivers spread through her body.
As his lips parted hers, he kissed her deeply, exploring her in a way that left her trembling.
“Ah…”
A breathy sound escaped her lips. Seeing her like that, Braeden gently brushed her cheek with his hand, his expression soft with satisfaction.
“Everything alright while I was gone?”
Juliana couldn’t meet his red eyes. She gave a small nod instead.
She already knew—meeting his gaze in moments like this never led to anything simple.
She knew better than to meet his eyes. Experience had taught her that all too well.
With his black hair and red eyes, he looked like he belonged to the North. His striking, almost sculpted face only added to his dangerously alluring presence.
But what unsettled her the most were his crimson eyes. Whenever she stared into them for too long, a heat would rise inside her, as if flames were crawling over her skin. It was hard to bear.
“Have you been feeling alright?”
Once again, Juliana nodded, avoiding his gaze.
“Good. Seems like your strength has returned while I was away.”
He gave a quiet, almost teasing murmur.
“Then I’ll have to make sure you use it well.”
Without hesitation, Braeden picked her up.
“Ah!” Juliana let out a small cry as she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Now you’re finally looking at me properly,” Braeden said, smiling as his eyes met hers. There was a flicker of satisfaction in his voice.
But the moment didn’t last long. He couldn’t even wait until they reached the bed.
Impatient, he kissed her again, this time with a deeper urgency.
Their lips moved together, fast and full of heat. Their quickened breaths filled the room, the air growing heavy with desire.
When Juliana opened her eyes that morning, she let out a quiet sigh as she looked at the empty space beside her.
She knew how busy he was, but still, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would’ve felt like if he had been there when she woke up. That thought alone made the sigh slip out naturally.
Of course, she understood why he hadn’t waited. It was nearly noon by the time she woke, after all.
Still, she couldn’t help but blame Braeden—especially since he was the one who had kept her up all night.
She pulled the bell cord to call for a maid, then bathed and changed into fresh clothes.
“What would you like to do about breakfast, my lady?”
“I’ll eat later with His Grace.”
“Yes, I’ll let the kitchen know.”
It had been nearly two years since she came to the Grand Duke’s estate in the North.
Which meant the end of their contract was drawing near.
“That’s what I wanted in the first place.”
To divorce after two years.
That was what Juliana herself had proposed to Braeden when they first married.
Even so, now that the end date was approaching, Juliana found herself lost in thought more often than before.
With a quiet sigh at her own growing hesitation, she stepped out of the main hall and walked through the garden.
Not long ago, a red flower-shaped mark that had been engraved on her body bloomed, and with it, her holy power awakened.
Ever since then, something strange had begun to stir in the Grand Duke’s estate.
Juliana had come outside both to clear her thoughts and to investigate the strange sensation she couldn’t quite shake.
As she stretched out her hand, her companion raven, Atlante, swooped down from above.
Atlante wasn’t an ordinary raven. He had been formed from the divine substance known as the Tear of God, transformed into a raven just as Juliana had wished.
“Do you sense anything?” Juliana asked quietly.
Atlante flapped his wings and replied in a solemn tone,
<There’s definitely something in this castle. Especially over there—I feel a dark energy coming from that direction.>
He pointed with his beak toward the western tower of the Grand Duke’s estate.
“Let’s go check it out.”
Following Atlante’s warning, Juliana turned and began walking toward the western tower.
The estate was a very old fortress, full of unused or forgotten spaces.
The western tower, in particular, stood in one of the most secluded corners of the castle.
The western tower was practically abandoned.
Even after nearly two years in the estate, this was Juliana’s first time visiting it.
[Poor, clueless little saint.]
A chilling, unnatural voice echoed out of nowhere.
“Did you hear that?” she asked.
<Hear what?> Atlante replied, confused.
He didn’t seem to hear anything at all.
“Never mind.”
Juliana answered quickly, as if it were nothing. Then she took a deep breath and slowly began climbing the tower’s spiral staircase.
[Belial’s little plaything.]
The voice came again, laughing softly with a tone that scratched at her nerves.
[She doesn’t even know she’s being used.]
“Who is it? What don’t I know?”
Juliana’s breath quickened as she climbed the stairs faster.
That voice—it was unsettling, too vivid to dismiss as her imagination.
Driven by the determination to uncover the source of the voice, Juliana rushed to the top of the tower.
But no one was there.
All she found was a mirror, draped in a white cloth.
She vaguely recalled a story she once heard about how light was reflected between towers using mirrors to send signals.
This mirror must have been used for that purpose long ago and had simply been left behind.
“Where is that voice coming from…”
She muttered to herself in frustration.
Then the eerie voice echoed again.
“It’s easier to be used when you don’t know anything.”
Reaching the end of her patience, Juliana stepped closer to the mirror, drawn to the strange sensation it gave off.
<Wait, you’re not going to uncover that, are you? That’s not a good idea…>
Atlante flapped his wings nervously, but before he could finish, Juliana pulled the cloth away.
The white fabric fell silently to the floor.
“Shall I show you the truth?”
A demon smiled from within the mirror, eyes locked on Juliana as if amused.
Atlante let out a sharp squawk, his feathers standing on end.
“A demon!”
His panicked cry rang out, but Juliana’s attention remained fixed on the figure inside the mirror.
He never came.
Juliana had been hearing unsettling whispers, and now she was determined to understand the truth behind them.
“Tell me. What do you know?”
“I know plenty,” the demon inside the mirror said with a chilling laugh.
Juliana frowned but kept her voice steady.
“Do I have to pay a price to hear the truth?”
Demons often told humans the truth, but never for free.
The more painful the truth, the higher the cost.
“No need for payment. The despair of a saint should be more than enough.”
The demon, its form made of pale, flickering flames, spun slowly in the mirror like it was enjoying itself.
Juliana thought of the people in the Grand Duke’s estate—how they had always seemed strangely distant.
Then she pictured Braeden’s face.
At the same time, the strange feeling she had been trying to ignore came rushing back, tightening around her chest.
She could have chosen to live without knowing anything.
That would have been easier.
But that wasn’t what Juliana wanted.
“Tell me. What do you know?”
At her words, the pale flame flickered with excitement, shifting quickly between blue, green, and red before returning to its original form.
“Braeden Ortis… he is the demon Belial.”
<That’s the name of an archdemon!>
Atlante shrieked beside her, clearly startled now that he could hear the voice too.
Juliana froze.
The name was familiar. She had heard of Belial before—one of the seven archdemons.
One of the most feared and powerful beings in existence.
And that terrifying name belonged to her husband?
“Belial is the oldest and most ruthless of the seven,” the demon said with a bitter edge. “Look at me. I’ve been trapped in this mirror for three hundred years just for defying him.”
The demon’s flame flared again, turning into a vivid, angry red.
“Do you know what he plans to do with you?”
The fire burned with rage and vengeance, its glow so fierce it felt like it could consume Juliana at any moment.
She swallowed hard, then looked up with resolve in her eyes.
“What does he want to use me for?”
