Chapter 16
Lately, Natasha’s days were filled with nothing but emptiness.
Thanks to the strict control over the household staff, no gossip from outside the duchy ever reached her ears. The selfish ally she once relied on had vanished completely, cutting off all contact.
Just as the monotony was growing unbearable, a letter arrived for Kail.
It came in a plain envelope with equally plain stationery inside. The sender was none other than that same selfish ally.
Your Majesty, it’s been a while.
The time is now.
This is the perfect moment to torment the princess.
The perfect moment to torment the princess.
The words sent a thrill through him. Pleased with the suggestion, Kail Letius curved his lips into a sharp, chilling smile.
“Meticulously written, as usual.”
As he examined the letter, he noticed something curious—every line was written in a slightly different handwriting. A clever precaution. Even if the letter were intercepted, it would be nearly impossible to trace it back to its author.
After burning the letter to ash, Kail rose and stretched, readying himself to act. This was a golden opportunity—he wasn’t going to waste it.
“Might as well use this chance to deal with my old dog too. Let’s show him what happens to a mutt that bites its master.”
He had come up with the perfect way to strike both Sieghart Aschart and Natasha Charlier—his enemies of past and present.
Turning to the attendant who had delivered the letter, he issued an order.
“Call in the press for tomorrow’s ceremony.”
“The press, Your Majesty? Do you mean allowing reporters other than the ones from Ruid? Even from lesser papers?”
The servant sounded surprised. Kail had never permitted access to any outlet not aligned with the imperial line—so the sudden change of heart was unexpected.
“Yes, even the trashiest of tabloids. Invite them all. There’s something they all need to see.”
As the servant left to fulfill his orders, Kail’s smile deepened.
The next day, just as Kail planned, a crowd of reporters had gathered in front of the temple. The atmosphere was lively as the ceremony to present Kail with a new medal began.
The temple honored Kail Letius for his contributions to the growth of the Letius Empire and its role in global development.
They listed reasons like peace treaties with major nations, eliminating dangerous monsters across the land, and supporting the growth of allied and vassal states—but it was all a façade. In truth, the medal was a public gesture meant to soothe the imperial family’s wounded pride after losing real influence.
Amid waves of praise, Kail stood proudly on stage, looking down at the swarm of reporters below—like ants scurrying around his feet. They were practically drooling in anticipation of their next big story.
“Well,” Kail began casually, “I think we can all agree that the greatness of the Letius Empire is thanks to the combined efforts of many.”
He paused, as if to show humility.
“You’ve all been waiting since morning just for a story—so let me give you something worth writing about.”
He paused again, letting suspense build.
“There’s one person in particular I’d like to acknowledge. Though he may have separated from the imperial family, I’d like to credit half of today’s success to Duke Sieghart Aschart. His contributions to the Empire’s growth can’t be denied.”
Kail subtly covered his mouth, pretending to clear his throat as he tried to suppress the smirk tugging at his lips.
“He was the one behind the plan to absorb the Kingdom of Charlier into the Empire. And it was also his idea to establish the Principality of Kshant.”
He briefly summarized Sieghart’s accomplishments. Of course, he left out the brutal, violent methods used to carry them out—this was a formal event, after all.
“But in the end, we got clean, efficient results that brought peace and prosperity to all.”
You remember that day well, don’t you, my obedient new dog?
You haven’t forgotten. I made sure you wouldn’t.
After her brief act of courage, Natasha learned something bitter—the outside world was cruel.
All she received for her pain wasn’t comfort or apology—but scorn, rumors, and judgment.
So, she withdrew once again. She shut herself away in a lightless room.
She ate just enough to survive.
Drank just enough to keep breathing.
Slept just enough to remain conscious.
And cried only when she couldn’t hold it in anymore.
Kayeina’s sincere concern was deeply appreciated, but in Natasha’s current state, it felt like a luxury she could no longer afford.
Then, one day, her fingers brushed against something on the ground. A piece of paper.
Apparently, a letter had arrived for her. This must’ve been it.
Without even checking the sender, Natasha tore opens the envelope. Holding it under the faint light of the moon, she made out a few words.
I’ve heard you’ve been unwell lately.
The moment she recognized the name—Kail Letius—her grip tightened.
So I’ve prepared a small gift for you. I hope you enjoy it when it arrives.
A gift?
She immediately guessed what kind of “gift” Kail would send.
If he wanted to hurt her, he’d probably target someone close to her.
Or maybe this time, instead of her parents or siblings, he’d send her a cousin’s severed head as a “present.”
And then she saw it—in the next day’s newspaper.
Letius XIV: Does the Empire now support the independent House Aschart?
Duke Sieghart Aschart’s flawless strategy revealed during the 18th Medal Ceremony – The brilliance behind the empire’s quiet victories.
That was his “gift.”
Natasha read every paper she could get her hands on—over a dozen in total. She read each one, again and again.
And the more she read, the clearer the truth became.
Sieghart.
It was Sieghart Aschart who had designed the operation to invade Charlier.
He had orchestrated the extermination of its royal family.
He had claimed ownership over her homeland’s land and blood.
He was the one who displayed the severed heads like trophies in the sky—offering them up like medals of conquest.
He was the one who used fear and violence to silence even the smallest voices of resistance.
All of it, was him.
Was it truly Sieghart Aschart’s doing?
Natasha couldn’t believe it.
This wasn’t just about cutting off her feelings for the man. This was something far more serious—something that turned her into a disgrace to her family, a traitor to her kingdom, and a complete fool.
To think that not only his love but his entire background had been a lie.
“But the tragedy the princess endured was a decision made solely by the imperial court. The House of Aschart had no involvement.”
“…Are you saying, Your Grace, that you had nothing to do with what happened that day?”
“Yes. I swear, I had no part in that tragedy.”
Then what part of him—what part of the man she knew—had ever been real?
“I understand your grief, Princess. Losing your loved ones must have been unbearable. I, and the House of Aschart, will do all we can to fill that emptiness.”
How long had she been deceived?
From the very beginning.
From their first meeting, through the six months he courted her, through a year of marriage—not a single day had passed where Sieghart hadn’t lied to her.
“Do you love me?”
“Of course.”
He had confessed his love.
He had said he understood the pain of losing her family.
He had promised to treasure the child they’d one day have—a child that might look like her.
“It was you… You dragged me into the gutter. You destroyed my life. My enemy—was you, Sieghart Aschart.”
And still, Natasha had loved him. She had dreamed of a future with him. She had given everything to her enemy.
“How foolish I must have looked.”
The pain was unbearable. He was the one who had done wrong, yet Natasha felt as if she were the one to blame.
And just like before, it was Sieghart who made her leave her room—who drove her, crawling and afraid of the light, to face him again.
As she stumbled down the stairs, the newspaper she had clutched in her hand slipped away and fluttered across the floor—landing squarely at a pair of polished shoes she recognized all too well.
Sieghart stepped to the side and nudged the paper away with graceful ease. Unlike Natasha, disheveled and trembling, even the soles of his shoes seemed untouched by the world.
He was always indifferent to whoever stood before him. Arrogant to an unreal degree. Even after his brutality was revealed, nothing about him had changed. With the same emotionless expression, he looked down at her.
“…Explain yourself.”
He remained silent, just like always—especially when an explanation was what she needed most.
“I won’t ask why you pretended to love me. I won’t even ask why you abandoned our child. Just answer this one thing.”
Her voice shook as she fought to stay steady.
“Is what the newspapers are saying true? Did you… plan all of it? Did you claim that by exterminating the royal family, you could take the kingdom?”
“…”
“That killing the royals would make it easier to claim their land, and hanging their heads from trees would silence the loyalists and allow you to take full control? Did you really say those things?”
The sorrow in her voice finally drew a flicker of emotion from his face. A crease appeared between his brows. After letting out a slow sigh, Sieghart crouched down to meet her eyes.
“…Later.”
“…What?”
“I have an urgent appointment. I’ll explain later.”
He had answered her—but it was not the answer she had asked for.
“Later…?”
She repeated his words, stunned.
“No. It has to be now. You—God knows how you’ll twist the truth if I wait. That’s why it has to be now. Only now can you still offer me something close to honesty.”
She rejected his vague promise, knowing full well that whatever he said “later” would be full of carefully crafted lies.
This—this moment—was his only chance.
“…I’ll return when I’ve finished. I’ll have a maid and servant remain with you in the meantime.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Without another glance at her, Sieghart turned and left to attend to more “important” matters. As if explaining himself to Natasha didn’t even rank on his list of priorities.
Wearing the coat handed to him by the butler, Sieghart walked confidently toward the front door. The servants lined up on either side bowed in perfect unison, seeing off the master of the house.
“…Of course.”
Natasha burned his retreating figure into her memory.
“…Of course you’d do this.”
Her heart, having been broken so many times, must have prepared itself for another blow. No tears fell. Even her eyes remained dry.
Eight days passed since Sieghart’s departure.
Despite his orders, no maid or servant ever came to check on her.
At first, Kayeina would stop by to help from time to time, but eventually—perhaps worn down by Natasha’s silence—she, too, stopped visiting.
“It’s snowing…”
She stared blankly out the window, watching soft white flakes fall from the sky.
A faint smile formed on her pale lips.
Ah… how beautiful the snow is…
Unlike me…
So pure. So powerful.
A godlike presence in a world that never had mercy for someone like me.
