Chapter 200: Dragon's Eye, Human Heart (64)
Chapter 200: Dragon's Eye, Human Heart (64)
That morning, Cien sensed an ominous air.
Perhaps it was a form of intuition. Awakened by the noise of a restless wind battering the window frame, the Princess stepped off her bed, her eyes clouded with unease.
Those light gray eyes, which had once held a brilliant spark of intelligence, had long since turned dull and dark. The series of recent events were more than enough to shatter the psyche of a girl who had only just reached adulthood.
First, she had narrowly escaped death.
In the process, the Head Maid, who had cared for Cien since childhood, was killed. Her escort knights had perished, leaving only Cien and Irene as the sole survivors.
The loss of her hand-picked inner circle was not something that could be calculated in simple terms of profit and loss. Being human, Cien’s mind could not help but be shaken to its core.
Yet, even in the mud, flowers can bloom.
Despite such bleak circumstances, Cien had found a new hope.
That hope was Ian. The only person who treated her with sincerity in a world filled with lies and deception.
However, despair still lingered. This 'new hope' was the very same man Cien had treated with cold contempt and tormented until now.
It might have been fine if she had only tormented him.
Unfortunately, Cien had laid hands not only on Ian but on his family as well. And the people who had once stood by the Princess, hurling insults at Ian, now used her as a scapegoat.
The 'Dragon's Eye' read the emotions of every human.
Whenever she faced the torrents of hatred and hostility, Cien felt suffocated, and the nightmares of her childhood resurfaced. The more this happened, the more she became obsessed with Ian’s existence.
Not long ago, she had even volunteered to serve the Saintess and the other women.
Though the Saintess had seemed somewhat reluctant at first, she and those around her had begun assigning the Princess all sorts of menial chores, as if to see how long she could endure.
Naturally, Cien did everything.
If that was what it took to remain by Ian’s side, she had no choice.
However, that period was strictly limited.
Ian was expected to wake up soon. And Cien’s fate—her light or her darkness—would be decided by how Ian treated her once he regained consciousness.
She had been told that if the ritual was performed yesterday, he would likely wake up around today.
Cien grew more anxious, biting her thumb nail several more times. Her trembling pupils betrayed her agitation.
Please, I must be forgiven.
Just in case, Cien dressed herself up for the first time in a long while. It was to look even slightly better for Ian when he opened his eyes.
After two hours of preparation, the Princess finally left her room.
With a somewhat tense gait, she took a deep breath to steel her resolve. It didn't take long for her movements to come to a halt.
It was on the desk in the first-floor lobby.
This was the space where the servants organized the mail every morning. A strange envelope sat there, and Cien instinctively turned toward it.
The sender finally caught her eye.
'Ria Percus.' It was Ian’s younger sister.
Cien’s hands began to tremble violently. Of all times, why did a letter have to arrive now?
But the option of not reading it didn't exist from the start.
Holding her breath, Cien slowly tore open the envelope. Inside, lines of text were written in a neat, orderly script.
Her light gray eyes quickly scanned the contents of the letter.
----
To Her Highness Cien, the Fifth Daughter of the Imperial Household, in whose veins flows the noble blood of the dragon.
Your Highness.
I, Ria Percus, the youngest of the House of Viscount Percus and an unwavering loyal subject of His Majesty the Emperor, offer my greetings through this letter. I hope you have been well.
I am well aware that you are far too busy with affairs of state to spare any thought for a secluded rural estate. That is why I have taken the liberty of writing this.
Lately, the Percus Territory has not been at peace.
Of course, this is entirely due to my own lack of virtue.
It is because a multitude of documents suddenly arrived at the merchant guild I operate, demanding the immediate repayment of debts. I had braced myself internally, but the gap between imagination and reality was wide and deep.
When the guild employees, who were like family to me, hung their heads in despair, I felt as though my own heart was falling with them.
It did not take long to confirm our bankruptcy. Since it was not a debt that a small-scale guild in a rural territory could handle, I believe I did my best in my own way.
You must be wondering why I am sharing news that has nothing to do with Your Highness.
The truth is, I recently heard a rumor whose authenticity I cannot verify. It was a story about many things happening between Your Highness and my foolish older brother.
My brother is stupid, stubborn, and a man who cannot even discern right from wrong properly. To be honest, I find it hard to believe that my brother could be involved in such a terrifying conspiracy.
I assume there was some exaggeration, as is often the case with rumors.
However, even with that fragmentary information, I wondered if my brother’s loyalty had not been proven. Also, though it may be unrelated to him, I became curious as to why debt collections were suddenly thrust upon my merchant guild.
Would Your Highness be so gracious as to look into the circumstances for me?
A noble of the Empire must repay what they receive. Whether it be a grudge or grace.
As a noble of the Empire myself, I have followed the Golden Rule of returning resentment for resentment and grace for grace as an ironclad principle.
I imagine it would be even more so for a member of the Imperial Family.
If my brother has provided even a small amount of help to Your Highness, I will trust that Your Highness will bestow a grace no less than that in return.
He is a foolish brother, but he is also someone I cherish deep within my heart.
If my brother has committed any discourtesy toward Your Highness, I beg for your forgiveness.
I, Ria Percus, will not die just because my merchant guild went bankrupt, but I am more than willing to die in my brother's stead.
If you wish, you may take the head of this Ria Percus.
For my brother’s sake, I will bark if told to bark, and crawl if told to crawl. Even if I were to be sold to a brothel somewhere, I would not voice a single complaint.
I believe that would be a much simpler task than bankrupting a single merchant guild.
I beg you on my knees. Please, do not touch my brother.
One irreversible decision is enough. I will give my brother a separate word regarding this matter as well.
I hope you will accept my loyal advice. I shall end my letter here.
From Ria Percus, a loyal subject of the Imperial Household.
----
After reading the letter, the Princess fell silent.
Throughout the reading, the writing revealed the sheer grit of the girl who wrote it. The skill required to mock a member of the Imperial Family so consistently meant her temperament was anything but ordinary.
Of course, as a merchant, she could be considered a failure.
To provoke the Imperial Family like this—though she couldn't be in her right mind since her guild had gone bankrupt—was an attitude closer to recklessness than courage.
Nevertheless, the Princess could not part her lips for a long time.
The resentment felt in every line, the hostility emanating from that refined prose, pierced her retinas and poked at her brain.
It felt as if every character became an arrow and her optic nerves became the bowstrings.
Cien’s eyelids trembled as she moved from paragraph to paragraph. By the time she reached the part where the girl suddenly bowed her head in a servile plea, she was on the verge of hyperventilating.
The word 'brothel' stood out particularly vividly.
Once, there had been a girl who said such things while giggling.
‘As long as you have a pretty face, you don't have to worry about making a living. Even better if you're from a noble background; you'd be welcomed in a brothel...’
It can't be.
If she could, Cien wanted to rush over right now and tear that mouth apart. To utter such insolent words so casually.
And the statement about returning resentment for resentment stuck in her head. Cien’s face turned deathly pale.
Feeling dizzy, Cien stumbled backward.
The letter fell to the ground with a thud, but she didn't care. As if possessed, Cien left the Versia Palace and walked aimlessly.
Normally, she should have headed toward the temple.
But right now, she couldn't muster the courage. As she moved her feet blankly, several sentences kept floating in her mind.
‘One irreversible decision is enough. I will give my brother a separate word regarding this matter as well.’
Irreversible. She had even given him a word.
Would Ian, upon waking, ever understand Cien for what she had done to his younger sister?
Yes, it was an irreversible decision from the start.
She could never be forgiven.
Everything was a result of the choices Cien had made.
So, even after merging into the crowd, the Princess walked as if her soul had left her body. She only hoped she could run away to anywhere.
But the moment she snapped back to her senses and looked around.
The world surrounding her was so full of hostility and malice that Cien could only gasp for air.
There was no place to run.
Cien’s mind, which had accumulated fatigue and wounds for a long time, let out a sharp cracking sound.
She couldn't take it anymore.
A sudden surge of nausea made Cien retch. She pounded her chest for a long time, but even as she gagged, nothing came out.
Someone approached and tried to support her. But Cien let out a scream like a desperate struggle.
“...Don't touch me!”
Weren't they all the same people anyway?
Every single one of them showed hostility while pretending otherwise on the surface; she was sick of it. It was a sight she had already seen countless times.
Ever since the nightmares of her childhood.
She had struggled to escape, but in the end, this was her destination. Cien had not moved a single step away from those days.
Cien shed tears, feeling utterly resentful of that fact.
She thought she had changed, but she hadn't. She thought she could change things, but it was a vain delusion.
How long had she been crying in the middle of the crowd?
A hallucination appeared before Cien’s eyes.
A man was approaching, parting the crowd.
Black hair and golden eyes.
It was unmistakably Ian Percus.
With trembling hands, Cien buried herself in his embrace and wept. Ian listened to her grievances without saying a word.
It was a long, rambling story.
She couldn't even remember exactly what she had said. It was natural, since she thought it was a dream.
That was why Cien’s memory of that day began with that one question.
“...You said you would do anything, as long as you could be forgiven?”
Cien nodded frantically.
She felt like she had babbled something about the honor of the Imperial Family or the morality of the nobility, but it didn't matter. Cien pleaded with Ian, tears streaming down her face.
The man let out a sigh and slowly helped Cien to her feet.
And in the next moment.
Crack. The sound of cartilage being crushed echoed.
Startled by the sudden pain, Cien finally snapped back to reality.
What just happened?
Blood spurted. Cien was falling backward, unable to withstand the impact, and where her wide-open light gray eyes were directed, a sharp silver arc was being drawn.
The situation was clear.
There was a blade digging into Cien’s shoulder.
A hand axe.
It had smashed through Cien’s shoulder joint.
Naturally, this was accompanied by excruciating pain.
Collapsing, Cien had to scream at the unexpected agony.
“H-hugh... Aaaaaaaah!”
Watching her, Ian merely tossed out a blunt remark.
“Then, take a few hits.”
It was an incident that took place on the Central Avenue of the Academy.