A Whisper Behind Locked Doors

At a time when her resentment toward Hector was peaking, the situation was strangely welcome.

It felt as though she had finally found the one point that unsettled the villainous Emperor.

A glint flashed in her eyes, sharp and deliberate.

With her hair in wild disarray and a tiara perched absurdly atop it, Chloe composed herself and lifted her teacup as if nothing were amiss.

Severian stood with both hands folded neatly over his lower abdomen, staring at her.

“Greet her. Beginning tomorrow, she will be acknowledged as Imperatris Secunda. Countess Chloe Larouge.”

At Hector’s introduction, Severian—who had seemed timid and watchful—darkened visibly.

Fear flickered across his face before he managed to speak.

“H-Hello. May the God of Light, Lumiel, bless this meeting.”

What was this strange dissonance?

Severian did not seem pleased to see her.

Yet neither did he openly reject her.

The shifting colors of his expression suggested a storm of complicated feelings.

The three of them exchanged polite conversation for a short while.

Despite his youth, Severian bore the air of someone weathered by hardship.

His features, unlike Hector’s, carried a sorrow that seemed older than his eleven years.

The Crown Prince’s chief tutor was also present in the library.

A middle-aged man who introduced himself as Count Rampierre.

Judging by his proximity, he appeared responsible not only for academic instruction but also for daily discipline.

The meeting did not last long.

“That will be all.”

As Hector rose, the others followed.

The Emperor exited first, followed by the Crown Prince and Count Rampierre in accordance with rank.

Chloe trailed behind.

It was in that brief moment of lingering that she seized her chance.

“I would like to speak with His Highness a little longer, if that is permitted.”

“I said we are finished.”

Receiving the curt reply, she deliberately furrowed her brows.

Hector turned back with narrowed eyes.

She met his glare head-on.

It was a silent tug-of-war.

A test of how far she could push him.

In that battle of wills that shrank her heart to the size of a bean, she used Severian as leverage.

“No!”

Crying out sharply, she grabbed Severian’s wrist and pulled him toward her.

Though slightly shorter than she, the boy had a balanced, steady build.

Yet the suddenness of it caught him off guard.

No one had expected such an act.

Chloe managed to retreat a few steps with Severian in tow.

In the split second before the knights reacted, she shut the library doors and locked them.

Perhaps her assassin training served her.

Or perhaps fortune intervened.

By chance, she found herself alone with the Crown Prince in the small library.

Outside, the doors rattled violently.

Knights shouted for her to open them.

It felt as though the doors might splinter at any moment.

In truth, forcing them open would not be difficult.

A few solid blows could break the lock.

Or the head attendant could fetch a key.

Either way, the time she had was short.

Chloe stood rigid, staring at the entrance.

After a moment, the pounding ceased, replaced by muffled discussion.

It seemed they had chosen not to break the doors.

Exhaling quietly, she smoothed her tangled hair and turned to Severian.

“I apologize for startling you, Your Highness. I merely…”

She had acted out of spite toward Hector.

Severian had been dragged unknowingly into their struggle.

Perhaps she could dismiss it as a childish whim.

Just as she released his wrist, she noticed something beneath his sleeve.

“Wait.”

He twisted to pull away, but she was faster.

She pushed up his sleeve so roughly that a button tore loose.

Across his pale skin ran crooked welts.

Chloe recognized them instantly.

She had been beaten often enough to know.

These were cane marks—strikes meant for the palm that had landed wrongly on the wrist.

During her own training, she had been whipped across her entire body.

Later, as the Emperor’s consort, punishment had been limited to places that would not leave visible scars.

Sometimes the cane slipped, leaving marks just like these.

“Who did this?”

She did not release his arm.

“It is my fault,” Severian said quietly.

She knew little of his life.

In her past existence, they had exchanged no more than formal greetings.

She searched her sparse memories.

Who wielded such influence over the Crown Prince?

The quiet, somber tutor was always nearby.

Even today, he had stood watch during Severian’s reading.

“Count Rampierre?”

The boy did not answer.

He only turned his head away.

His delicate neck and fine jawline bore no visible trace of suffering.

No one would suspect abuse at a glance.

That the heir apparent, second only to the Emperor, endured such treatment was unthinkable.

Why?

Another strangeness emerged.

Severian seemed more concerned with hiding the marks than with seeking help.

He did not attempt to flee her.

Instead, he glanced at her repeatedly.

His lips parted and closed as if he struggled to speak.

“I… hope nothing happens to you, my lady.”

The words stunned her.

He was worried for her.

“What do you mean?”

Before he could answer, metallic clinks sounded outside.

Keys.

They were unlocking the door.

It hardly mattered.

What awaited her afterward was the greater concern.

She doubted Hector would accuse her of abducting royalty.

The lock rattled.

Severian, not Chloe, seemed most alarmed.

Suddenly, he seized her upper arm.

His expression was desperate, like a s*ave fleeing pursuit.

His voice dropped to a frightened whisper.

“The new Empress was poisoned. By poison sent by His Majesty.”

Chloe’s eyes widened.

A shocking palace secret, from an eleven-year-old’s lips.

“Poison?”

The “new Empress” he referred to was Hector’s second wife.

She had come from a neighboring kingdom to ease diplomatic tensions.

Healthy upon arrival, she had fallen ill soon after reaching the palace and never recovered.

If it was assassination, then Hector must have begun poisoning her soon after securing the marriage.

The handle turned with a faint metallic scrape.

Severian added quickly,

“I have thought about it for a long time. His Majesty had no need to kill her. He simply kills anyone who displeases him. So you must be careful.”

“How did Your Highness discover such a thing? You are in danger if—”

The door burst open.

Pushing past the attendant with the keys, Hector entered.

“Did you enjoy your private meeting?”

His crooked smile was lethal.

An invisible aura radiated from him like a predator’s presence.

Chloe’s spine went cold.

She had prepared herself for this defiance, yet the fear was suffocating.

Apology came first.

If she pushed further, the consequences would be dire.

“I am sorry. I allowed my emotions to overcome me…”

Summoning what little courage remained, she bowed her head.

“I deeply regret it. I do not even know why I acted so.”

She could only hope he would not choose a punishment too severe.