Chapter 9
The temple erupted into chaos.
The knights rushed to seal the doors, making sure the culprit couldn’t escape.
The High Priest, hands trembling, picked up the fallen Holy Grail and dipped a teaspoon into it. As soon as the spoon touched the sacred water, the liquid turned dark.
“Th-The chalice has been poisoned!”
At his words, the knights immediately surrounded the attendants from House Aschart, all dressed in ceremonial robes. The guards began a thorough search, determined to find the criminal.
“It’s this maid!”
Moments later, one of the maids was pinned down by a knight. Forced to her knees, the accused let out a stifled groan of pain.
It was Kayeina Ten—the personal maid of the Duchess of House Aschart.
She was dragged away by the palace guards and later taken to the imperial underground prison.
It was strange. Despite being declared the prime suspect so quickly, there wasn’t any solid evidence pointing to Kayeina.
The maids of House Aschart had been responsible for managing the Holy Grail for the coronation ceremony. Kayeina was one of them. But their duties were simple—wipe the grail with a purified cloth and pour in the sacred water.
Before changing into ceremonial robes, all maids went through strict inspections. And while they worked, guards kept constant watch. Given that, it was nearly impossible for anyone to poison the chalice.
Kayeina was no exception. There was no trace of poison on her, nor any indication she had handled it. Yet, somehow, she ended up labeled the main suspect.
The temple officials didn’t trust the words of Kayeina or Natasha. No matter how they pleaded, all they received in return were cold replies about “following procedure.”
But pleading wasn’t the right word—it was a rightful protest.
Kayeina had been accused based on nothing more than suspicion. She was thrown into prison even before being officially proven guilty. Shouldn’t those actions be questioned?
They think she’s guilty just because she serves the royal family.
To Natasha, it felt like everything was her fault.
If only Kayeina hadn’t been a royal maid.
If only House Aschart hadn’t assigned her as Natasha’s personal attendant…
Her pale hands curled into tight fists, trembling under the pressure.
She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. Standing in front of the door, she finally reached for it.
…Is he really okay?
It had been three days since Sieghart collapsed and regained consciousness. The poison was said to be lethal, even in the tiniest amount. Yet, he’d recovered with barely a scratch. They said he had left the infirmary on his own, claiming he didn’t need any rest and had already returned to work.
Worried, Natasha had lingered near the medical wing multiple times. She had left letters and small gifts outside his door, hoping to express her concern. But, as expected, she never received a response.
She never asked to see him, respecting his need to recover. But today was different. Today, she had to meet him face to face. Because this time… she couldn’t fix things alone.
Inside the room, Sieghart sat with his back turned, focused on paperwork. He didn’t bother checking who had entered. Thinking it was just a maid delivering his meal, he spoke without looking up.
“Leave it and go.”
But when no footsteps followed, he finally turned around.
His expression instantly darkened when he saw Natasha standing there, holding a letter and a bouquet.
As she approached, she carefully set the gift beside him. Hesitating, she looked at him nervously before finally speaking.
“Sieghart, are you feeling any—”
“As you can see, I’m perfectly fine. Or perhaps so unwell that even having this conversation is exhausting. Either way, get to the point.”
Natasha looked up at him quietly. In the deep crimson of his eyes—darker than her own—she saw nothing but cold indifference.
She had been so worried about him. But now, standing here in front of him, all her fears and concerns felt meaningless. The kind words she had prepared scattered like petals from a broken bouquet.
“…Please, Sieghart. I’m begging you.”
She didn’t bother with pretense. He wouldn’t listen to it anyway.
“Please… save Kayeina.”
Even if it meant giving up her pride and dignity, she had to protect Kayeina. She couldn’t let her waste away in that freezing, merciless prison.
It was unbearable to think that her friend was suffering because of her. No matter what it took, she had to save the one she cared about most.
“You’re asking me to spare the maid who tried to kill me?”
“No. I’m not asking you to clear her name so easily. I understand that suspicion remains. But couldn’t we wait until there’s actual evidence? Just… please, show her some mercy.”
“So, Your Highness is saying that because there’s no evidence, that woman must be innocent?”
Sieghart stepped closer to Natasha, who had sunk to her knees on the floor.
He didn’t offer a hand. Not even a glance of concern. As if the woman kneeling on the cold marble didn’t matter to him in the slightest. In his hand, he held a pipe—gripping it tightly.
“Then I suppose there’s no evidence that anyone else is guilty either, is there?”
“Please… save Kayeina.”
Even if she had to throw away her pride and dignity, Natasha had to save Kayeina. She couldn’t leave her to waste away in that cold, harsh underground prison.
The thought that Kayeina was in danger because of her was unbearable. No matter what it took, she had to protect the friend she loved.
“You’re asking me to spare the maid who tried to kill me?”
“No. I’m not asking you to clear her of suspicion right away. If evidence comes to light, then imprisoning her afterward won’t be too late. I’m only asking… please, show her some mercy.”
“So Her Highness believes that, since there’s no evidence, that girl must not be the culprit?”
Sieghart stepped toward Natasha, who had collapsed to her knees.
He didn’t offer a hand—as if the woman sitting on the cold marble floor was beneath his concern. His hand simply gripped a pipe instead.
“Then that also means there’s no proof that anyone else did it, either.”
He let out a slow breath of smoke and murmured,
“If you bring me the real culprit, I’ll apologize and release the girl.”
There was something twisted in his whispering tone—clearly mocking her.
He was ridiculing her.
Sieghart was supposed to be rational—more than anyone.
Shouldn’t he, of all people, understand how unfairly Kayeina was being treated?
But no. He didn’t understand her innocence at all.
“Why… Why are you saying this…?”
“Well, who knows? Maybe it’s just like they say—she’s been living among impure blood for too long.”
At those words, Natasha felt her heart drop.
Even he was disregarding her bloodline now.
The fallen royal family—reviled and scorned. Anyone close to them was treated just the same. Even Kayeina, who had stood by her loyally, was being lumped in with the rest.
She had heard those words countless times.
From the people of the territory, from the servants in the mansion, even from the media.
The entire empire saw Natasha as inferior—unworthy.
There were some things no amount of effort could change. She had learned that the hard way and had long since accepted it.
She endured the wounds of every insult, even when they cut her deeply.
But this—this, from his voice—was different. It shattered something inside her. It was a wound she couldn’t heal on her own.
“House Aschart will serve the princess. My power and my family’s honor will protect you. I won’t let anyone disgrace you.”
If he had ever truly loved her, how could he say something so cruel?
Was that promise—to stand by her side—nothing more than a dream that only she remembered?
The kindness he once showed, now locked in the past, only made her miss him more.
“…If you ever loved me… you wouldn’t be doing this.”
You wouldn’t do this, Sieghart.
If even a piece of your heart had truly loved me…
“Isn’t it time you realized I don’t love you?”
The warmth in his gaze, once built from affection, had faded into indifference.
The hands that once brushed her hair and cheeks now did nothing but adjust the lines of his uniform.
His indifference suited his words perfectly.
“I know. I already know…”
Then she noticed the trash bin near his desk. Her heart sank again.
Inside were the gifts she had left for him.
The scarf she had knitted until her fingers were raw.
The letters she had rewritten, over and over, searching for the right words.
She had tried to ignore it.
But now, standing there, the truth was painfully clear.
“You never loved me.
Everything—every smile, every promise—it was all just an act…”
At last, Natasha accepted it.
That man had never loved her.
Not once.
Not from the beginning.
Natasha returned to her room with nothing but wounds—no answers, no relief.
Even the maids and servants who should have helped her were gone.
Between the duke’s cold indifference and the empire’s open contempt, they too had joined the silent rejection.
Natasha quietly undressed and bathed by herself. She had lived alone long enough to manage on her own.
She sat in front of the mirror, brushing her hair for no real reason.
Without her dear friend beside her, chattering and laughing, the silence felt even heavier.
Tonight, more than ever, the loneliness hurt.
As she set the brush down, ready for bed, something on the vanity caught her eye—a letter.
It hadn’t been there that morning.
The envelope was elegant, in deep red and gold.
At the center was a wax seal, bearing the image of a lion’s mane—bold and regal.
It reminded her of the flag that once flew over the ruined palace—
the banner of the Letius Imperial Family.
“Hello, my lady.
I heard about the unfortunate event at the coronation. They say your maid was the culprit.
From the way you’re protesting, it seems you’re convinced she’s innocent.
You’re right. She is. She didn’t do it.
It was me.
I was trying to take care of an old dog that didn’t know its place. Looks like it was tougher to kill than I thought.
Anyway, I suppose I should say sorry—and thank you.”
A strange scent rose from the letter.
It was a smell she had only encountered once—but it had been burned into her memory.
The scent of a devil she could never forget, no matter how hard she tried.
The arrogant tone. The mocking words.
It didn’t take long for Natasha to realize who had sent it.
It was from Kail Letius.
Realizing that, she read the letter again—this time more carefully.
Moments later, a breath of despair escaped her lips.
“…No… No, this can’t be…”
It meant that Kayeina had taken the blame for Kail’s crime.
And judging by the tone of the letter, he had no intention of correcting it.
He meant to bury his guilt by pushing it all onto her.
Overwhelmed by fury and despair, Natasha was about to tear the letter apart.
But then—she stopped.
Something had clicked.
The subject was vague. But when considered alongside her current situation, the meaning became unmistakably clear.
If I give this to the temple…
