The Crumbling Northern Archduke
That day onward, the air in the North grew even colder. Distrust and chill radiated from Elina Veronica, the puppet ruler, blanketing the entire castle.
Time passed, but no results emerged. The air in the office hung heavy.
“Report.”
Elina gripped her quill tighter, staring down at the documents.
On the surface, she still appeared the epitome of the cool-headed, flawless Northern Archduke—impeccable posture, icy voice, emotionless gray eyes.
But my eyes couldn't be fooled. The quill in her hand trembled faintly.
Beneath the desk, her hidden leg tapped anxiously against the floor. Dark shadows lingered under her eyes, hastily concealed with makeup.
“We... still haven't found the culprit.”
The newly appointed guard captain reported, sweat beading on his brow.
“Incompetent.”
At Elina's single word, the captain slammed his forehead to the floor.
“I-I'm sorry! But it's certain an insider did it, though we lack concrete evidence...”
“Out.”
She flicked her hand dismissively, as if she didn't want to hear more. The captain fled like a whipped dog.
Now, only she and I remained in the office. I'd taken the spot where Chris should have been.
Chris was on mandatory leave now. Elina's order, born from a toxic mix of long-held trust in him and creeping suspicion.
“Haa...”
The moment the door shut, her shoulders slumped. It was like a taut bowstring snapping.
She clutched her face with both hands.
“Siegfried.”
“Yes, my liege.”
I approached, pouring her favorite tea. I set the steaming cup near her hand.
“What do you think?”
“About what, my liege?”
“The culprit. Anyone come to mind?”
Her voice dripped with venomous suspicion. I let a faint smile ghost my lips, then shifted to a worried expression.
“I'd hesitate to speak carelessly, but...”
“It's fine. The decision is mine in the end.”
I subtly nudged her toward my conclusion. And Elina didn't notice.
I paused, then spoke softly.
“A few nights ago, I saw Vice-Captain Kyle heading out late.”
Kyle was a commoner knight Elina had personally selected, like Chris, and the next most trusted after him.
“...Kyle?”
“Yes. Toward the noble district.”
“The noble district...”
“The direction of the Carion estate.”
It wasn't a lie. Kyle had gone that way.
Just to check on the old fools' movements. But twist the context a little, and a loyal retainer becomes a treacherous schemer in an instant.
Elina's eyes wavered.
“No way...”
“Of course not. Kyle wouldn't. I must have misseen, or there was some other reason.”
I hurriedly denied my own words, defending him. But suspicion is poison—it burrows deeper the more you deny it.
“Unless the old bastards have some dirt on Kyle...”
Elina muttered, barely audible. A single, lethal drop.
Her expression hardened. She bit her lip until blood welled.
Scenarios must be spinning in her head. A faithful knight blackmailed into betrayal.
She'd already put Kyle on trial in her mind.
You're doing great, Elina.
Outwardly an iron wall, but inside, rotten and soft like overripe fruit.
**
Days later, the old fools made their move.
“Archduke! How long do you plan to keep the gates locked under the pretext of hunting the killer?!”
Carion burst into the meeting hall, bellowing. Nobles swarmed in behind him.
“The hero's death is regrettable, but our territories' logistics are crippled—losses are mounting!”
“Isn't this just a show to hide your incompetence?”
Their attacks were predictable. Pinning the hero's death on her.
Undermining her authority. Elina gripped the armrests white-knuckled, even through her gloves.
“The investigation is ongoing. Until we catch the culprit—”
“When the hell will that 'investigation' end?! It's been a week already!”
Carion slammed the table.
“Or maybe... you're not unable to catch them—you're covering for them? Protecting some inner circle lackey?”
Kyle watched Elina with worried eyes. But to her now, it would look like crocodile tears.
Now's the time.
I slipped behind Elina, whispering just loud enough for her.
“My liege, check Carion's pocket.”
Her gaze flicked to his breast pocket. A document peeked out.
Stamped with the Northern Knights' seal. One I'd stolen and slipped in there.
First time trying it—glad it worked. Elina's eyes widened.
Why was an internal knights' document in that old coot's pocket? Only one conclusion.
Collusion.
BAM—!
Elina shot to her feet. Her chair toppled with a crash.
“Everyone, out.”
“What did you say?”
“GET OUT!!”
She screamed. No trace of her usual poise.
A voice raw with rage. The howl of a cornered beast.
The nobles retreated, clicking their tongues. But their faces held smug satisfaction.
They'd confirmed she was cracking. The hall fell silent as the doors shut. Kyle approached cautiously.
“My liege, compose yourself. Don't let their provocations get to you.”
“Stop.”
Elina's tone was glacial.
“My liege?”
“You're in on it too? Selling my secrets to those old bastards! Laughing at me behind my back!”
“What are you saying?! I swore loyalty to you, Lady Elina!”
“Shut up! Think I don't know how cheap that oath is?!”
Elina was unraveling.
“Get out of my sight.”
“...Understood.”
Kyle bowed, face grim. He shot me a glare before leaving.
He knew where her madness stemmed from.
But he was powerless. Her ears were already sealed shut.
Perfectly isolated.
Breaking her had seemed tough. Because she was a bastard-born archduke.
Less educated than the nobles. Her position precarious.
All that combined made her crumble so easily.
Now, in this vast hall, only the mad ruler and her corrupting retainer remained. Me.
Elina collapsed into her seat.
“My liege.”
She looked up at my call. Unfocused eyes.
She was no longer the Northern Archduke. Just a fragile woman craving protection.
I embraced her like a child. This level of contact seemed acceptable now.
As expected, she burrowed into me. Her grip on my clothes pinched my skin.
“They're all deceiving me. All out for my head...”
Her deepest fear. Her life. A trauma now.
“Don't worry. I'm here.”
I stroked her back gently.
“Even if your knights betray you, I'll stay by your side.”
Your sword, after all.
From 'my liege' to 'you'—her status had fallen.
“Really? You won't... betray me?”
But she didn't notice, gazing up with wet eyes. A mix of pathos and madness.
Blind dependence on me. Thrilling.
The haughty ice queen wagging her tail at my feet, begging for faith. I answered with a look, not words.
She buried her face in my chest and sobbed. All dignity and pretense cast aside.
“I hate being alone.”
To Elina, enemies everywhere. I scooped her up.
She felt light. Stress had whittled her down since I first saw her.
In the corridor to her bedroom, she clung to my neck.
As if letting go of her lifeline—me—would plunge her into the abyss. I laid her on the bed.
But she wouldn't release my arm.
“Don't go... please...”
Now begging. Elina.
“I won't.”
I pulled a chair bedside, brushed her hair, kissed her forehead.
Mwah!
“Rest, Elina.”
Only then, clutching my hand in both of hers, did she close her eyes. But sleep evaded her.
Every tiny noise made her flinch awake, checking if I was there.
Gradually, exhaustion from released tension dulled her like a drug.
I held her hand, stroking her hair with the other. She didn't resist my touch.
Almost there. Just seal it physically, and it's done.
But no rush. Perfect after total mental subjugation.
I gazed at her sleeping face. Frowning, slick with cold sweat.
Clearly a nightmare. And her nightmares were reality.
A world of enemies surrounding her. Crafted by her sole remaining pillar of trust: me.
“Mm... Siegfried...”
Mumbling my name in sleep. I rubbed the back of her hand with my thumb.
“Yes, I'm here. Forever.”
Until you're utterly broken.
The next morning.
Elina dismissed Kyle upon waking. Appointed me acting captain of the knights.
A shocking promotion. Noble backlash was obvious, but she stood firm.
No—fiercer.
“Anyone questioning my decision will be branded a traitor.”
She snarled at the old fools. With her reliable sword—me—she bared her fangs again.
I stood behind her, savoring their panic.
Power secured.
Military command. The North's true might. In my grasp.
Even if the real protagonist showed, no room for him. The knights answer to me.
Elina trusts only my word.
“Siegfried.”
After the meeting cleared, Elina called me.
“Yes, Elina.”
“Tonight too... please.”
She bowed her head, face flushed. Not mere guard duty.
Her eyes held more. Sexual desire? No—closer to survival instinct.
Possessiveness born of anxiety, craving to bind me fully through union. I smirked.
“As you command.”
Tonight, the North's ice flower shatters. And withers in my hand.
The most beautiful. The most wretched.