Elegant Tragedy
The human body seems terribly fragile, doesn’t it? With nothing more than this small… bullet, I could be sent straight to hell. Isn’t that an awfully cheap price for a single life?
The man on his knees shook with laughter, his shoulders trembling as he cackled. Even with a loaded pistol pressed to his head, there was no sign he would flinch. Imperial Princess Lobelia twisted her face into a scowl. She met his gaze—eyes brimming not with fear but with pure madness.
This bastard…!
She bit her lip hard and shoved the muzzle closer. Her hand would not stop shaking. One squeeze of the trigger would end this madness-drenched villain forever.
“Haa, exactly. Aim for the head, if you would.”
The man sighed theatrically and lifted his own hand, guiding the barrel even tighter against his skull. Lobelia’s eyes flew wide with shock at the unexpected move.
“…!”
“It is the period you must place. This tragedy cannot be allowed to end on something as trivial as hesitation. One gunshot, and the filth who sold his country…!”
The man grinned. Ecstasy shone in his eyes. Yet Lobelia saw something else.
Why… do you look so sad?
Buried deep within those pupils lay fragments of lingering regret. She clenched her teeth and pulled the trigger. Her finger had trembled, but the heavy jolt—
Bang!
—did not lie.
The man let out a short “Ah,” then toppled backward. Blood spilled from the back of his head. A few droplets spattered across Lobelia’s stunned face, leaving crimson streaks. She stared, numb, and wiped the blood away with a trembling hand.
“Is it… over?”
The wretch who had always worn an artificial smile and made self-deprecating jokes was dead. The man who had dared sell the Empire’s secrets to the Nine Kingdoms, who had been ready at any moment to stab them in the back. The man who tried to sell his own country had died just like that.
Lobelia lowered her unsteady gaze. His lifeless eyes stared back at her. Yet at the corner of his mouth rested a smile that seemed to say it’s all right. Not the usual fake one, but something real.
“…What were you, really?”
Silence. The dead do not speak. In this place filled only with the sound of breathing, no requiem played. No—this villain did not deserve a grand requiem. Only quiet. Death.
Lobelia covered her face with both hands. Tears fell for reasons she could not name.
“What is this…”
The hollow question received no answer. The dead have no words.
…
The Empire regained its vigor. The Nine Kingdoms, learning that the traitor was dead and their invasion plans discovered, retreated in frantic haste. The traitor, Haim, had for some reason been carrying critical intelligence and war documents belonging to the Nine Kingdoms. Had he been hoarding information so he could live comfortably even after selling out his homeland?
“No, it was too blatant.”
Lobelia stood at the railing, sunken eyes fixed on the palace grounds beyond. Her blood-red irises carried a heavier burden of doubt than ever before. The capital, Paladia, was as brilliant as befitted the heart of the Empire—laughter, bards singing her praises. Had she not killed Haim, this place would have become a sea of flames.
…I can’t ask Haim anymore.
Lobelia let out a long sigh. She rubbed her throbbing temple and turned away from the cityscape.
Haim had been thorough. He had befriended the Empire’s highest nobles, using their weaknesses to blackmail them from behind his flamboyant words and gestures. For nearly five years he had gone almost undetected. Most of his targets were nobles already drowning in self-interest, with too much to lose; they had therefore shielded him instead. When Haim died, they were executed alongside him.
“Yet the Haim who evaded detection for five years suddenly behaved far too obviously like a villain at the most critical moment.”
He had begun cackling without warning, committing every suspicious act in the book. It was so overt that Lobelia had started investigating. He had not even bothered to conceal his collusion with the foreign kingdoms.
“It’s suspicious.”
Lobelia frowned, sinking into thought. Looking back, everything felt wrong. The man named Haim had never been the type to act so recklessly. It was almost as if he had waited for the perfect timing to reveal that the kingdoms were preparing for war.
…His change was too sudden.
Haim’s everyday speech had always been layered with pretense.
The image of Haim smiling brightly and offering his hand rose in her mind. He had been close to high-ranking nobles and deeply entangled with the imperial palace. Later investigation revealed that poison had been in that day’s lunch, and Haim had “accidentally” caused the deaths of every palace chef.
“It’s strange, isn’t it?”
Lobelia sighed again. A slick, handsome man appeared at her side—Roswell. The Grand Duke of the North, renowned for his beauty. He smiled and asked, “Are all preparations complete?”
“Yes. We marry tomorrow.”
Lobelia gave him a fleeting, indifferent glance. Roswell’s face stiffened; panic flashed across his features before he recovered his smile.
“Does your heart not flutter? To stand beside a beauty such as yourself…”
“I’ve grown sick of poetic lines thanks to someone. Oh, and we will not be sharing a bed. Go find yourself a prettier woman. I’ve already chosen my successor.”
“Where could there possibly be a woman more beautiful than one such as you, Your Highness?”
Roswell’s attempt sounded awkward. Lobelia merely scoffed.
“Your record as Grand Duke of the North is rather colorful, I hear. No need to hide it. This marriage is simply proof that I have not abandoned the North. Continue living your debauched life as usual.”
“…”
“Just don’t get caught.”
Lobelia offered the same bright smile in return. Roswell froze, utterly bewildered. Feeling his vacant stare, she thought:
…Why?
Though the Grand Duke of the North was a known libertine, he was said to treat his own woman well. Hadn’t she thrown tantrums as a child, insisting she wanted to marry him? She no longer understood. Her heart was a tangle of confusion.
The world turns slowly, and when you miss an opportunity, it turns quickly.
The world flows… slowly. Yet hold your mind tightly. For it is a place that spins exceedingly fast the moment you miss your chance.
…
After the Emperor’s death, Lobelia ascended as Empress. As she received the crown her face remained rigid. She felt no joy. With icy eyes she swept her gaze across the nobles surrounding her.
Are they planning to use me?
At least do it as skillfully as Haim did.
Her meticulous and progressive policies brought prosperity to the nation. There were major incidents, of course, yet she handled them with ease. Lobelia was a wise sovereign, the Iron-blooded Empress. The events of her twenties and the nightmares of Haim that still haunted her only sharpened that reputation.
With sunken eyes Lobelia gazed upon the capital. His playful voice still echoed in her ears.
Look. Not at me—look at this world. Behind beauty hides an ugly essence. That noble is concealing a gold mine. That young lady is plotting to poison someone. So steel your heart. Ugliness is the true nature of beauty. Behind beauty remains ugliness. Ugliness hides within beauty.
Lobelia knew she was the same. On the surface she possessed beauty and power that anyone would covet, yet inside she was slowly rotting, tormented by nightmares every single night. They called her a saintly ruler, but she had spilled that much blood.
The nightmare was always the same as the moment she had killed Haim with her own hands.
Bang! At the sound of the gunshot Lobelia would wake, gasping violently.
“…Haim!”
“Still calling that name.”
Roswell sighed, weariness clear in his eyes. He had attempted every possible flattery and courtship, but Lobelia’s iron wall had eventually forced him to give up.
She pressed a hand to her forehead and shook her head. Her eyes trembled.
“I’m sorry, Roswell… I…”
“Haim was nothing but trash—a traitor. Instead of remembering him so long, it would be better to erase the memory with magic—”
“No!”
Lobelia whipped her head toward him and shouted. Roswell flinched.
…Why?
Her mind was in chaos. After she had apologized to him that day, they had walked together through the palace grounds.
Suspect and consider everything until the very end. If it is you, Your Highness, you can do it. There is a famous saying that the truth is always simple…
She knew. Haim had deliberately chosen death for the sake of the Empire.
“…”
So that was it. He had turned himself into a villain.
…
Lobelia eventually stepped down from the imperial throne. She visited the place that had once been Haim’s hometown—a simple village filled with farmers and children. There she raised talented individuals and spent the remainder of her life. And when the time came, she closed her eyes.
“…Haim.”
With those final words.