Please, I'm a Prince! A Prince! Host, What Are You Doing? Announce My Identity More!
The night in Arden Forest reeked of death.
Acrid smoke billowing from the blazing mountain stronghold swallowed even the moonlight.
Every time the burning timbers burst like screams, sparks flew in all directions, but the Winter Guard knights encircling it didn't so much as flinch.
Their black armor was already caked in enemy blood, emitting a grotesque crimson glow.
And at the heart of that horrific inferno stood Beatrice.
"Please... please spare us! We really didn't—!"
Dozens of bandits knelt on the ground, bound tightly with ropes. Trembling in terror, they clacked their teeth and groveled pathetically.
It had been just four hours since the report that Rian was likely murdered.
A normal army wouldn't have even received the mobilization orders by then, but Beatrice had assembled the entire Winter Guard and led them out herself, combing the forest until they razed this den to the ground.
It wasn't strategy or tactics. It was the insane speed born purely of mad obsession.
Beatrice slowly stepped toward the kneeling bandits.
With each footfall, mud and blood squelched beneath her boots. Her crimson eyes gleamed with lost reason, bloodshot and feral.
"I'll ask one last time."
Her voice was low and chilling.
It wasn't a voice so much as the rustle of ashes from a soul already burned away.
"Did you... kill the young blond man with blue eyes who passed through here yesterday?"
"I-I don't remember! We hit dozens of carriages every day...!"
The bandit leader wailed, smashing his forehead into the dirt. But Beatrice showed no mercy. Shing— She slowly drew her sword and lifted his chin with the tip. The razor-sharp blade bit into flesh, drawing beads of blood.
"You don't remember... Then where did you dispose of the body?"
"W-We... We dump them in the big lake nearby! Tie heavy stones to them... so they never float up! Please, just spare our lives...!"
Lake. Stones. Never float up.
The cruel words seared into Beatrice's mind, and her heart plummeted.
Imagining Rian sinking alone into that cold, dark water, waiting for her—the last thread of her sanity snapped.
I killed him.
Not the bandits. It was her, who had cast him out without escorts, telling him to live or die on his own.
I killed him. My shallow pride shoved Rian into that bitter, icy depths alone.
"......Ah."
A grotesque gasp escaped Beatrice's lips.
Shing—! Crunch!
A single stroke.
Before the begging leader could finish, his head flew through the air and vanished into the flames. His decapitated body convulsed and slumped to the ground.
"Dispose of them."
Beatrice murmured lowly, not even sheathing her dripping sword.
Shing!
At their master's command, the Winter Guard knights swung in unison.
The bound bandits' screams echoed briefly before being swallowed by the blaze.
Beatrice staggered alone toward the lake.
Cold night wind clawed at her blood-matted hair.
"Ah... Ri... Rian... I was wrong... please......"
She collapsed at the lakeside, clawing at her chest with her nails. Despair and guilt crushed her soul.
The mistress of the North, said to shed no bloody tears, was gone. Only a hollow monster remained, driven mad by the self-recrimination of losing her beloved by her own hand, weeping red tears over the water.
At the same time, in the secret auction house of the imperial capital Esband.
This place brimmed with heat and greed, the polar opposite of that blood-soaked forest moments ago.
"1,600 gold! Bidder 17 offers 1,600 gold!"
The auctioneer's excited shout rocked the hall. A red-haired woman seated a bit away flashed a leisurely smile, provocatively raising her paddle as if taunting me.
1,600 gold. A fortune that would bankrupt most baronies.
But I had the massive funds from Winter Rose Pepper and the desperation to apologize to Be ti.
"1,950 gold."
Please, I'm a prince! A prince! Host, what are you doing? Announce my identity more!
1,950 gold.
I only had 2,000 total, and the remaining 50 was for the return trip to Winterfell and emergencies, so I prayed she'd back off here.
The red-haired woman stared me down, then snapped her fan shut and casually lowered her paddle.
"Sold! The 'Winter Heart' goes to that gentleman over there!"
The auctioneer's booming declaration rang out with three chimes.
Nice! That was close.
I sighed in relief and received the jewel box.
As I hugged it close and headed for the exit, the red-haired woman from earlier blocked my path, mask off.
"Greetings to the great Third Imperial Prince of the royal family. I am Isabella de Goldman of the Goldman count family."
She bowed gracefully, introducing herself.
Lady Isabella. The only daughter of the Goldman count family, major backers of the 'Golden Scales.'
"Did you jack up the price on purpose?"
I said curtly, basing it on what just happened.
Isabella laughed heartily and nodded.
"To be honest, yes. Your Highness's Winter Rose Pepper has been hurting our Golden Scales merchant guild lately. Call it cute revenge? But don't be too mad."
She stepped closer, wafting seductive perfume.
"That building you eyed—I can let it go for 40% below market. More than enough to cover your jewel loss. And who knows? We might meet often in business... or personally."
As she finished, sweetly curving her red lips and eyeing me, a familiar mechanical chime rang in my ear.
Pure Love Knight Status Window Returns After Ages!
Look at that fox of a woman! 😡 Rian, no harems allowed! Stick to the pure love tag!
......Not my type anyway. And why do you only pop up at times like this?
I ignored the status window's short laugh and drew a firm line with Isabella.
"Fine, since you're offering the building cheap as atonement, I'll forget it. But Lady Isabella, my fiancée is the possessive type. We won't meet personally. Ever."
"Oh? You mean the lady of Winterfell?"
"Yeah. I bought this jewel secretly to apologize to her. See you."
I brushed past her and hurried to the capital's carriage station.
Isabella stood dazed for a moment, then burst out laughing. Her attendant, waiting from afar, approached.
"Miss. Did you fall for the prince at first sight or something?"
"Fall? Nah, I just wanted to get friendly with someone so business-savvy. But apparently, his lady's extremely possessive."
She shook her head, watching Rian depart.
The imperial palace's dining room.
The royal family gathered for a cozy dinner: the Emperor, Empress, Princess Eleanor, and the Crown Prince. Amid the warm atmosphere, the head steward approached cautiously and bowed.
"Your Majesty, forgive the interruption during dinner, but I have a report."
"Speak."
"Moments ago, His Highness Rian passed through the capital's north gate by carriage."
The Emperor replied flatly while slicing his steak.
"I see. He's heading straight back, then."
Eleanor dropped her fork, eyes widening.
"What? Father! Rian was in the capital?!"
"Yes. He visited some real estate and the auction house. Probably just popped in for something he wanted."
The Empress's eyebrow twitched at the Emperor's casual response.
"Hold on, why didn't you tell us your son was here? We could've seen his face!"
"Father! Keeping something that important from us? That's too much! I've missed Rian so much!"
As Eleanor joined in, raising her voice, the Emperor—the ruler of the empire—looked flustered and deflated.
"Well... I figured he had some errand and left it be. If he wanted to see us, he'd have come to the palace himself..."
"That sneaky fox...!"
Under the Empress's sharp glare and Eleanor's resentful nagging, the Emperor averted his eyes, fiddling with his wine glass. The man called the Sun of the Empire shrank endlessly before his wife and daughter.