Chapter 10
For a brief moment, Natasha hoped that Kail’s confession letter could prove Kayeina’s innocence.
But as she double-checked the letter, her heart sank. There was no imperial seal stamped at the bottom—where it should have been.
Without the seal, the letter would never be accepted as evidence. The court would dismiss it as a forgery, arguing that it could have been written by anyone. Handwriting and stationery alone weren’t enough to prove it came from the Emperor.
Kail had confessed so brazenly because he knew the letter posed no threat to him.
Natasha thought hard about why the Emperor had sent her that letter. Kail was fond of petty games, yes—but this time, she felt something more was at play.
“It’s nothing, my lady. When I want to see you, you come running. Like a dog.”
It was a signal. Kail wanted her to come to him—
And once she did, he would likely offer Kayeina’s freedom as a bargaining chip.
Natasha didn’t want to answer that call. She didn’t know what kind of humiliation, threats, or conditions awaited her. What price he would demand in exchange for Kayeina’s release.
“Sieghart won’t help me.”
Which meant… this was her only option.
There was no other way to save Kayeina. Not now, when no one would listen, when their voices were being ignored.
The usual paths to justice were closed to them.
“I have to save Kayeina…”
She had once been willing to die for Natasha.
When everyone else turned away, she alone had reached out her hand—Natasha’s savior.
Now, it was Natasha’s turn to repay that debt.
After a moment of hesitation, she tore a page from her notebook.
“I’ll head to the palace once I’m up. Please prepare the carriage.”
It was palace business—no attendant could pretend not to notice.
She left the note and a stone outside her door and returned inside.
The palace guards, after confirming her identity, escorted the Duchess directly to the audience chamber. Though the visit hadn’t been scheduled, it was clear they had been expecting her.
“His Majesty is inside. You may enter,” said the knight, stopping in front of the grand door.
The door creaked open.
She walked slowly across a carpet scattered with rose petals and stopped at the steps of the throne.
Kail Letius sat atop the imperial seat, one leg crossed over the other. He tilted his foot upward, showing off the polished heel of his brown leather shoe. The light from the chandelier gleamed against it.
“The noble Duchess, entering the lion’s den of her own free will? How unexpected.”
Despite clearly having anticipated her visit, the Emperor played the part of a surprised host, satisfied that his trap had worked.
“…I’ve read your letter, Your Majesty.”
“I was worried it wouldn’t reach you, but I see it found its rightful owner. Though I didn’t expect you to come alone. I figured you’d hate being here so much, you’d cling to your husband’s coattails begging not to come.”
“…”
“Oh, or maybe you already tried that? ‘Please believe in my maid’s innocence,’ you must’ve cried. Quite the touching scene, I’m sure.”
Kail had clearly heard about her attempt to visit Kayeina in prison.
He mocked her, repeating her words with a drawn-out, falsetto voice.
But Natasha had to endure it. Any resistance now would only make things worse.
She needed to stay focused—end this on her terms, before it spiraled out of control.
“…Forgive me. I don’t understand what you mean. I’m here to turn myself in. It was I who plotted the Duke’s poisoning, Your Glorious Majesty.”
Natasha had made her decision.
She would take the blame.
Exposing Kail as the real criminal was far beyond her power.
But she couldn’t let Kayeina suffer in her place.
If she claimed the crime as her own, her punishment would likely be lighter. Kail, desperate to torment her personally, would never let her be executed so easily.
If imprisonment, beatings, disgrace, and slander were the price of saving Kayeina, she would pay it.
“…What?”
“So please—release the innocent maid. Let me bear the punishment I deserve.”
Kail blinked in disbelief. And then he burst into laughter.
“My lady… I see you’ve come up with quite the plan. But surely you don’t mean to toss yourself into the dungeon, do you?”
He rose from the throne and stepped down the stairs.
“Did you really think claiming the crime would change how you’re treated? That you’d be spared the guillotine, unlike that girl?”
With every step, Kail drew closer—until he stood right in front of her.
Then, without warning, he grabbed a strand of her hair and pressed it to his lips.
The sensation was so revolting, she wanted to rip it out of her scalp.
“You’re clever, Duchess.
But how could I ever sentence you to death?
Even locking you away in some cold, dark prison would be such a waste.”
His voice slithered into her ear, thick with heat and malice.
She flinched as his breath brushed her skin, but Kail noticed—and liked it.
He took it as encouragement.
His fingers roamed where they had no right to be, his touch lingering far too long.
Every place he grazed sent a shiver crawling over her skin, like ants under her flesh.
“…Out of respect for your loyalty, I’ll release the girl.
But remember—you owe me now.
And I plan to collect this debt… very slowly.
Over a long, long time.”
A debt.
Because of today, another invisible shackle had been fastened around her.
Kail Letius would haunt Natasha for the rest of her life.
He would attach himself to her like a mark—tormenting her endlessly, always lingering in the shadows.
It was sickening. Devastating.
Desperate for a breath of air, Natasha thought of the document sitting on her vanity—the one she had tried not to look at.
She had once hesitated to use it, fearing for her safety and for the people she cared about.
But now, none of that seemed to matter anymore.
After today, it was clear.
The Duke’s household would never protect her. Or anyone around her.
“If I divorce him… maybe all of this ends…”
That night, after Sieghart had turned his back on her, Natasha had taken the papers out from the back of her drawer.
She had told herself it was impossible. That it was too dangerous.
But today proved something else:
Whether she stayed or left, she would always be at risk.
So if she was going to suffer anyway, she might as well live freely.
Once Kayeina was released, Natasha planned to escape with her.
They would leave for the annex, take Sir Dante with them, and find a place where no one could reach them.
A home of their own.
This would be the last time she let Kail or Sieghart treat her like this.
“Just so you know… you’d better not try running.”
“…”
“I really hate being bored, Duchess.”
Kail stepped down from the throne and yanked her hair back.
“Ah—!”
Her head snapped toward the ceiling. Pain shot through her scalp.
But worse was the feeling of his fingers crawling along the exposed curve of her neck.
“If you’re planning to divorce the Duke, don’t bother.
I’ll reject the papers—every single time.
Under imperial authority, of course.”
“…What are you saying…”
“I’m saying shut up and obey me.”
Somehow, he knew.
He knew she had prepared divorce papers.
Natasha’s stunned silence only made Kail grin wider.
His mouth stretched unnaturally, his eyes gleamed with cruel delight.
Wrinkles gathered at his brow, and he looked at her like a child watching a puppet dance.
He was a monster who found joy in other people’s misery.
“…Why me…”
Her voice trembled.
Why?
Had she not suffered enough?
After everything—after all she had endured—why again?
“…Why are you doing this to me? What have I done…?”
Kail scoffed, his tone as mocking as ever.
“Because my entertainment ran away.
And that put me in a very bad mood.”
“…”
“And… someone recommended you to take its place.”
Her pain and downfall were just a game to him.
That was all it had ever been.
In the past, he had broken her for the sake of the empire.
Now, he did it just for fun.
“You’ve been such a delightful show, so I’ll give you a gift.”
Before Natasha could react, she heard a knock at the door.
“Thanks to me, you’ll even get to see your husband’s face again.
Be grateful, alright?”
The door opened.
Footsteps echoed through the chamber.
The rhythm of the steps, the pace, the weight of them—so familiar it was painful.
“I thought we agreed not to summon me for things like this.”
The voice was low. Controlled. Certain.
Even with her back turned, Natasha could feel his gaze like a blade on her skin—sharp and cold.
“This time, it’s Emperor to Duke. Inquisitor to victim.
Don’t overreact—I’m only doing this because we’ve found the one who tried to kill you.”
“Is that so? Who?”
“Your wife.”
“…”
“She came in herself. Confessed.
Said she poisoned you out of hatred for her cold husband.”
Natasha felt the weight of his gaze land on her.
The humiliation cut deeper than anything.
He saw her kneeling.
Her tangled hair.
Her dazed, broken expression.
It made her want to disappear.
“You’re wasting your breath.
I’m taking the princess.
If the real culprit has been identified, I’ll be taking the maid as well.”
Sieghart took another step forward, grabbed her arm, and pulled her up roughly—like lifting discarded luggage.
Without a word, he walked ahead.
He didn’t look back at her once.
He knew the way too well.
They were headed to the underground prison.
The silence between them was suffocating—until Sieghart suddenly stopped and turned.
“You went to the Imperial Palace… and confessed it was you?”
His voice was quiet. Almost in disbelief.
“And now, even though you’re the culprit, you’re not being punished.
The maid is being released.
They’re covering this up.”
“…”
“Because of you, House Aschart now owes the Imperial Family.”
He had spoken to her coldly before.
But never with this much anger.
Natasha instinctively shrank back.
She knew.
She knew he didn’t love her.
She knew he wouldn’t be worried about her—not after everything.
But still…
His indifference stung more than she’d expected.
He wasn’t worried—he was angry.
Blaming her.
And it hurt.
“If you have even a shred of sense, don’t get involved with the Imperial Family again.
Once was enough.”
His jaw clenched. His words came out like ice.
The veins on his forehead stood out, ready to burst.
Once was enough.
As if saying this all began with her.
As if the connection between House Aschart and the Imperial Family was her doing.
But he’d been dealing with the palace long before she ever entered his life.
It confused her.
But she didn’t dare ask.
She told herself she must have misheard.
And forced herself to stay quiet.
