Ah... Because of Me... He Died...
The dawn in the north was cruelly frigid.
The cold northern air sharpened my foggy mind with every breath I took.
I gave myself one last check in the mirror at the entrance to the duke's residence.
Instead of the ornate imperial robes embroidered with golden thread, I hid my body in a rough, dark brown cloak perfect for blending in, a hood that covered half my face, and a battered hat with a deep brim that shadowed my eyes.
I looked like any ordinary low-level merchant you could find anywhere in the north—not the empire's third prince, Rian.
'This oughta fool anyone into thinking I'm not the prince.'
I slipped quietly out of the duke's residence while everyone was still deep in sleep.
The office window in the distance showed no light yet.
Beatrice's cold back as she'd turned away from me yesterday flashed in my mind, but I shook my head and headed toward the castle gates.
'Be ti, just wait three days. I'll come back with something you'll love.'
My first stop was the Winterfell Bank on Boutique Street. Cutting through the dawn air, I withdrew a chunk of the massive profits from the Winter Rose Pepper business.
I had plenty of funds in my name at the central bank in the capital, but I needed cash on hand for the road.
The gold coins in the leather pouch clinked dully against each other with every step, soothing my gloomy mood a little.
And then I headed straight for the carriage station in the market district.
The market was already buzzing at dawn, a chaotic mix of livestock manure, fresh-baked bread, and the rough stench of unwashed bodies.
"Looking for the fastest carriage to the capital."
The clerk eyed my shabby outfit, snorted disdainfully, and slid a ticket across the counter.
"Capital, huh... Only two options leaving today. First one's a merchant caravan straight to the capital—you'll be crammed in the luggage like a chicken in a coop. But it's insanely fast. Leaves in thirty minutes."
He pointed next to a proper-looking passenger carriage parked nearby.
"That's the regular passenger one. Way more comfortable than the caravan, but it'll take one-and-a-half times longer, and it doesn't leave for an hour twenty.
What'll it be?"
"I'll take the first one."
I snatched the ticket without hesitation. I didn't care if my ass shattered or I suffocated buried in barley sacks.
Beatrice's hurt expression from the restaurant yesterday, and that icy voice saying "Go or don't, do whatever you want," kept whipping at my heart.
'I've got thirty minutes to kill. Might as well grab something to eat before boarding.'
I bought a steaming meat pie from a nearby stall.
**
Exactly one day had passed since Rian left the duke's residence at dawn.
The ticking of the clock pendulum in the office sounded louder than usual.
Like the creaking of a noose tightening around someone's neck—eerie and sharp.
Beatrice sat at her desk, but her eyes had been fixed on a single document for ten minutes without moving.
In truth, she hadn't escaped the lingering horror of the nightmare from last night.
In the dream, Rian lay covered in blood on the snowy ground. His blood spilled over the white northern snow like fully bloomed roses—vivid and red. As Be ti approached calling his name, there was no life in his eyes. With lips growing cold, he whispered to her.
'Sorry... Be ti...'
"......Hah."
Beatrice exhaled roughly, sweeping back her hair.
Cold sweat beaded on her forehead. A sticky, muddy dread rose from the pit of her stomach.
She obsessively replayed the words she'd spat at Rian the day before yesterday.
'No carriage, no escort. Live or die, it's on you.'
It had been a scream from her pride, not her true heart.
When Rian treated her like a murderer over his dream and doubted her sincerity, Beatrice had felt a betrayal like the world crumbling.
Of course, the original plan had been to kill him and start her revenge.
But from the moment she declared she'd truly possess him, she'd chosen to keep him by her side forever instead of killing him.
Yet when Rian didn't trust her, got scared over one dream, and tried to distance himself, her hurt feelings had exploded.
Plus, Beatrice had assumed Rian couldn't leave for the capital without her support.
But he had. And the fact that he'd gone alone, utterly unprotected, was slowly driving her mad.
"Karin."
At her low call, Karin emerged from the shadowed corner.
"......Track him. Right now. Report where he is and if he's safe."
After Karin vanished, Be ti couldn't look at the documents anymore.
She gazed out the window. Winterfell's sky hung leaden, as if ready to dump blood-mixed snow any moment, and it kept overlapping with the crimson snowfield from her dream, tightening her throat.
Several hours later, the office door burst open. It was Karin.
Her usually ice-cold face was deathly pale.
"My lady, my report."
Karin's voice trembled like wet leaves. Beatrice's eyes instantly darkened to blood-red.
"Speak. Where's Rian? Has he reached the capital already?"
"......I confirmed his description with the carriage station clerk. The prince took the fastest merchant caravan the day he left. But tracking that caravan..."
Karin bowed her head, unable to continue.
Beatrice's heart plummeted, stopping dead. She rose unsteadily and staggered toward Karin.
"Speak. So, where is he?"
"We found the carriage attacked by bandits in the Adlen Forest passage, just kilometers from the capital's north gate. The carriage was wrecked beyond recognition, valuables all looted. And inside the carriage..."
Karin's lips twitched.
"Blood splattered not just the floor but the ceiling. No survivors... found. No bodies either, but the amount of blood suggests the prince was caught up in it too."
"......What?"
Something snapped in Beatrice's mind with a sharp pop.
She staggered forward and yanked the sword from Karin's waist in a flash.
The razor-sharp blade pressed against Karin's throat. Thin blood trickled from Karin's neck, but Be ti didn't even blink.
"You're sure? You're staking your life on this, daring to report to me that something's happened to him?!"
Beatrice's voice was no longer human.
It was a tearing scream mixed with a beast's muffled roar. Karin bowed deeply in silence, accepting her master's fury.
That silence hit Beatrice like a death sentence worse than hell.
Clang—!
The sword fell from Beatrice's hand.
She clutched her chest and collapsed to the marble floor. She couldn't breathe. The northern air filling her lungs sliced her insides like knife blades.
"Ah... Aah...."
I sent him. I pushed him into the jaws of death.
Even if he'd feared me over a mere dream, even if he'd hurt me, I should have forced Rian to stay by my side.
All for that damn pride, that flimsy excuse of being hurt—I'd sent him off alone, without even an escort?
"Ah.. Ka.. Karin.. Right now! Dispatch the entire Winter Guard! Search every inch of that forest! Dig up the dirt if you have to—find him!"
Beatrice crawled on the floor, wailing.
Tears streamed endlessly down her cheeks, soaking the marble.
"He can't be dead... No way!! He has to be alive. Please.. Rian.. I.. I was wrong..."
Despair and guilt crushed her soul.
The haughty duchess called the mistress of the north was gone. Only a woman gripped by the madness of having killed her beloved with her own hands remained, screaming there.
"I killed him... I... Rian...."
The image of Rian from last night's dream—vomiting blood, apologizing to her—overlapped with the report, becoming reality.
The sobs filling the office showed no sign of stopping. She was no longer in her right mind.
Twenty hours earlier, at the empire capital's north gate.
"Whoa... So this is the capital! It's seriously glamorous!"
Rian hopped off the regular passenger carriage, pulled back his hood, and let out an awed exclamation.
Though the fatigue from the unexpectedly long trip showed on his face, his eyes sparkled brighter than ever.
"I nearly blacked out when that meat pie gave me the runs right before departure and I missed the fastest caravan. But it didn't take as long as I feared—I'll make it to tomorrow afternoon's auction just fine!"
In truth, if Rian had taken that caravan, he'd have met the fated disaster in the forest as planned.
But thanks to the vicious stomachache that hit right at departure, he'd been stuck in the bathroom and missed it entirely. That "lucky gut punch" had saved his life.
Rian stretched and grinned wide.
"Be ti, hang on just a bit! I'll come back with a gorgeous white diamond jewel for you and apologize from the heart!"
Gazing at the capital's massive walls and the dazzling lights lit for the night, Rian strode forward confidently.
He had no inkling—not even a milligram—that Winterfell had turned into a blood-soaked hell in his absence.