I Have Decided
The truth was, I had made up my mind. Yulia Hesenia Stella—whether I took care of her myself or handed her off to someone else, something had to be done.
But now that the decision was made, I felt lost about where to even start. First things first: my identity. Just a day ago, I had been an Imperial Guard of the Empire. High credit, authority granted by the Empire itself, a position anyone would envy. But not anymore. Now, I was an illegal immigrant. Yulia was in the same boat.
We had two million harts in funds. A rough calculation told me that would last us about three months. But to keep a livelihood going, we needed ID and jobs.
"Mm…"
"Awake already?"
Lost in thought, I watched as Yulia opened her eyes before me. Those sky-blue irises looked up at me.
"Gert?"
"Yeah. Sleep well? Feeling better?"
I poured some warm milk I'd ordered from the inn into a cup. Yulia took it with her small hands and gulped it down eagerly. I wiped the milk from the corner of her mouth with my finger. She stared up at me silently.
"Something to say?"
"Yeah."
After a brief pause, Yulia asked,
"When are we going home?"
"Home?"
"Yeah… I wanna see Dad."
"…We agreed on a week, remember? Not even a day's passed yet."
"I still wanna go."
"No."
"Why?"
"I promised your dad. I'm looking after you for a week."
"I don't like that…"
Her face crumpled, on the verge of tears. I understood her feelings all too well. This trip had been the Emperor's spur-of-the-moment idea from the start. For Yulia, being in a strange land with a near-stranger was bound to be tough.
But—
"Still no."
It couldn't be helped. I couldn't explain the complicated circumstances to a child. More than that, at just ten years old, accepting her parents' death was next to impossible. Yulia's mother had died in childbirth. The Emperor had poured all his love into Yulia. To her, he was the whole world. The fact that he'd left it… was far too cruel.
The time to tell her would come eventually, but not now.
"Just wait one week."
"Then… we'll really go after a week?"
"…Yeah, we'll go."
I brushed it off with a lie.
We had enough money for now to make plans. But the real problem was something else. The mood in Lenz was off. A few days after the Emperor's death was announced, the king of Ahenvalt sent condolences and a delegation to the Empire.
"Where are those people going?"
Yulia peered at the procession and asked. The crown prince and his wife, nobles, guards—all dressed in black. The trumpeters blew mournful calls.
"It's some kind of event. Like a trip."
"A trip? But their clothes are so gloomy. Doesn't that make them feel bad?"
The delegates all wore grave expressions. The Empire was Ahenvalt's closest ally, and the procession carried that weight. Even Yulia sensed the heavy atmosphere. Rain fell, the streets were quiet. White chrysanthemums drifted in the wind.
In that moment, Yulia grabbed the windowsill and bounced excitedly.
"Hey! Look over there! That's our country's flag!"
At the end of the procession, the Empire's flag appeared. Beside it hung Ahenvalt's, the double-headed eagle roaring with open beak. Yulia beamed with joy, oblivious that this was her father's funeral delegation.
I forced a smile. But guilt still weighed on my shoulders.
"Enough looking. Let's read a book."
"Another book? I wanna go out! I wanna climb trees and touch bugs!"
"It's raining. Where to?"
Yulia puffed her cheeks. Keeping an energetic kid cooped up wasn't easy. But there were reasons.
Imperial troops had arrived. Soldiers handling reconnaissance and intelligence were coming and going under the guise of the delegation. On the surface, it was a proper visit, but to me, it looked like a search for Yulia. Over ten soldiers had passed near the inn. About half had come inside. They must have asked about her.
Yet our location hadn't been exposed—thanks to the million harts I'd slipped the innkeeper. I'd sensed the chill and acted fast. When I pressed my sword to his throat and made the offer, he agreed readily.
Whoosh—the rain grew heavier. I closed the curtains and read Yulia a fairy tale. But she couldn't focus, and I droned on mechanically until I fell asleep myself.
A week passed. The searching Imperial troops vanished. But my real worries were just beginning.
"Now let's go home! For real, right?"
As soon as the sun rose, Yulia shook me awake with a face full of life. I sat up slowly. She gazed at me with eyes brimming with expectation.
Over the past week, I'd agonized endlessly. How to convince this child. How to soften the blow. There was no perfect answer. Just cobble together the most plausible excuse.
"Yulia. I talked to your dad by letter."
"Really? What'd he say?"
Yulia's sky-blue eyes sparkled as she looked at me, her face full of hope.
"Well… he seems really busy. For the next few years—until you grow up—he might not be able to meet."
Yulia's expression shifted right before my eyes. Joy to confusion, confusion to disappointment, disappointment to anger. And then—
"No!!"
"Yulia, that's not—"
"No no!! I'm going home! I'm seeing Dad!"
Suddenly, she bolted for the door. I grabbed her shoulders just in time. She thrashed even harder. I pulled her into a forced hug.
"It's not that you can't see him. When you grow up—"
"I wanna see him now! I wanna go now! Dad, Dad!!"
Her tiny fists pounded my face. Eyes, nose, cheekbone. Then square on my lip. Blood welled up.
"Yulia… please…"
"I hate you, Gert! I'm going to Dad! Go away! Disappear!!"
My head spun. Buried memories resurfaced. My mother's angry voice, blaming me for stealing her youth: 'I really hate you. I hate the one who took my youth. Why did I even give birth to you? I can't stand the sight of you. Get out of my sight.' Slaps flying with curses. It hit me vividly after all these years.
"Wah… waaaah… I wanna see Dad… I'm going to Dad…"
Yulia collapsed and sobbed. Her image overlapped with my past self. Unconsciously, I let go. She seized the chance and fled. Even her escaping back looked just like mine.
I sat stunned for a moment, then jumped up. Damn… where'd she go?
Yulia was nowhere. Small but fast. She'd ducked into some alley for sure. Lenz's outskirts were dangerous. Thugs, traffickers—Yulia would fetch top price.
I closed my eyes and released my mana. Six circles began to turn. Threads of mana spread in all directions. Waves pulsed out, feeding existences into my mind. People, cats, rats, bugs. Filter the noise. Small build, sniffling, quick movement.
……Found her.
When the Emperor told her to go on a trip, Yulia hated it. She loved the Imperial Palace where she'd been born and raised. Plus, Father was staying behind. It was just her and Gert.
Yulia hated it. Her family was Father alone. Living with a stranger was unthinkable.
But because it was her beloved father's words, she obeyed. Gert turned out surprisingly okay. Of course, she still missed home, but Yulia endured the week.
Until she realized she'd been tricked. Gert had never planned to return to the Empire.
She missed her father. But to wait? The betrayal—the first she'd ever felt—ignited into blazing rage. Words poured out unbidden. Gert's shocked face released her, and Yulia ran.
She just wanted away from him. Into a deserted alley she dashed. She'd played tag with servants in the palace, so running was no issue.
But this was different. Slippery, unfamiliar paths. Breath caught, legs grew heavy. Alleys turned strange—narrow, filthy, eerie, thick with murk.
Yulia didn't notice the wrongness. Heart pounding, she just ran forward.
And unfortunately, four men surrounded her.
Only then did she realize her mistake. They looked seedy, reeking of beastly, filthy auras as they approached. Sticky gazes, brazen smiles, unhesitating steps.
"Little girl, lost?"
"Come with us. Got a nice place."
One laughed as he spoke. She didn't fully understand the Ahenvalt tongue, but danger screamed instinctively. Their hands hadn't even touched, yet felt vile and terrifying.
Yulia tried to flee. But they lunged, grabbing her shoulders and arms roughly.
"N-no, stop!"
She was dragged away. Unlike Gert's gentle touch, theirs had no care. Brutal, merciless force. Tears burst forth. No one to help.
"She okay? Doesn't look like ordinary stock."
"Look at that skin. Rich kid for sure."
"If nobility, we're dead."
The men muttered. A normal girl would've gone straight to the black market, but Yulia was different. Her hair shone, eyes deep and clear. Milky skin, plump cheeks, delicate features, neat teeth. And a sweet scent. Clearly highborn.
"Idiots, nobility or not, who'll know we took her if we sell on the black market?"
The boss scoffed. In vast Lenz, who cared if one kid vanished? His men's worries seemed pathetic.
"Still, let's check. Hey, whose kid are you?"
The boss gripped her shoulder, feigning kindness. But Yulia knew: he just wanted undamaged goods. Not protection—maintenance.
Yulia trembled.
"D… Dad?"
Recalling a familiar word, she answered in Ahenvalt.
"Yeah, who? Speak."
"Looks Imperial?"
"You ask. You're from the Empire, right?"
Another passed it to a hooked-nose man, an Empire escapee.
"Little one, who's your dad?"
Yulia shed fat tears, pitifully.
"If I tell… you'll let me go?"
"Maybe. If your dad's loaded."
Lies. No returning this girl. Her face too distinct, unforgettable. Return meant revenge. Sell her off.
The world's underbelly. Where humans became wares. Slave markets.
Oblivious, Yulia answered clearly.
"Marcus… Hesenia… Stella…"
No translation needed. All understood.
Silence fell. The men froze, realizing the name wasn't a joke. The Empire's sole royal surname. Direct imperial blood.
"Heh, your dad's the Emperor?"
"Yeah! My dad's the Emperor!"
"Huh, why's the dead Emperor's daughter here?"
"…Huh?"
Yulia's face went blank. Dead Emperor? Her dad the Emperor? So… Dad was dead?
Before she could ask, chaos erupted. The men looked down her alley. Darkness. Thud, thud. Cold bootsteps.
"What?"
"……."
A man emerged. His silhouette from the shadows was blade-sharp. Black coat flapping in wind, light avoiding him. Only his blue eyes pierced the dark like radiance.
"What, I said!?"
Under black hair, icy blue eyes swept them. A gaze worlds apart from thugs—like a monster from the abyss. Goosebumps rose, blood froze.
The man approached with a grim face. Black-gloved hand held a honed sword.
"W-wait!"
As they sensed danger and opened mouths—
He charged. And slashed throats.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Four heads hit the ground. Bodies crumpled a beat later.
Yulia blinked. Her captors gone, only Gert in view. He shielded her with his body and coat, blocking her sight. So she didn't know they'd died.
But their fate didn't matter.
The Emperor is dead.
It etched into the girl's heart. Terror surged. Quietly, she asked,
"Gert."
"……"
"My dad… he's dead?"
Gert said nothing.