The Marionette Speaks
Vera shot upright as if she had been electrocuted, staring at Cayena in disbelief. Had her mistress ever spoken to a servant in such a warm, affectionate tone before?
“Your hands are chapped.”
Cayena took Vera’s hand and examined it from every angle.
Those straight, slender fingers closed around hers with surprising strength. Vera felt a rush of embarrassment and nearly yanked her hand away.
“You must have suffered terribly all this time.”
“…Not at all, Your Highness.”
“Have you ever heard the expression ‘life flashing before your eyes’?”
Cayena gently pulled Vera down to sit on the edge of the bed.
“The moment the poison touched my tongue, I was certain I was going to die. In that instant, I found myself wondering who my true people were. And then every hardship you’ve endured for me came rushing back.”
A quiet thrill of joy bloomed inside Vera’s chest.
All these years she had stood as Rezef’s faithful servant, clinging to the belief that one day her loyalty would be rewarded. Once he became emperor, her true worth would finally be acknowledged. Yet that hope had always been deferred, left perpetually unfulfilled.
Now Cayena was speaking the exact words Vera had longed to hear, as though she had slipped inside her heart and read every hidden desire.
“I don’t know if it’s too late, but thank you, Vera.”
Vera’s eyes brimmed with tears in an instant.
“It’s nothing, Your Highness…”
All the emotional strain she had carried for so long surged up at once. When Cayena drew her close and patted her shoulder with gentle understanding, the last of Vera’s control shattered.
“Don’t cry, dear. We still have so many years ahead of us. I hope you’ll stay with me through all of them.”
Vera tried to swallow her sobs, but they came out in broken hiccups.
Cayena held her without pulling away, soothing her until the worst had passed. She then turned to the other maid, who was also fighting back tears, and asked for a cool damp cloth.
“Thank you, all of you. I’m alive today only because of your devotion.”
“Your Highness!”
Every maid in the room dropped to the floor in prostration.
Vera was mortified that she still could not stop crying. Noticing her distress, Cayena gave a soft, sighing laugh and asked the others, “Hmm. Does anyone know a good way to calm Vera down?”
Laughter rippled through the room. The atmosphere warmed and softened in the space of a heartbeat.
“Honestly, every one of you is far too tender-hearted.”
At Cayena’s gentle teasing they smiled—awkward, shy, but undeniably pleased. Praise from their mistress felt like sunlight on frost. In that moment they realized, quite naturally, that the princess possessed a softer side than they had ever suspected. Exactly as Cayena had intended.
“Now, Vera, I imagine looking at my face right now must be rather embarrassing, so you should go rest. But first, since you’ve used my gown as a handkerchief, please bring me a fresh one.”
Her playful remark drew bright peals of laughter from the maids. Vera’s face flushed scarlet.
“Y-Your Highness…!”
Cayena smiled, still stroking Vera’s shoulder, when suddenly she curled forward and coughed violently.
Only then did the women remember that their mistress was still gravely ill. They paled in horror.
“Your Highness!”
“Call the physician—quickly!”
In the blink of an eye Cayena was once again the center of frantic, meticulous care. How shallow emotions could be.
She allowed the maids to fuss over her without protest.
“You must not exert yourself in any way,” the physician warned when he returned for his follow-up visit. He was visibly startled by how much her vitality had declined in such a short time.
“I’ll feel better after a little rest.”
Cayena spoke lightly, but her complexion had grown even paler. The maids’ faces darkened in tandem. Should anything happen to the princess, they would not escape punishment.
“Your Highness, His Highness the Prince requests an audience. Shall I show him in?”
So the moment has come.
Rezef had asked to see her.
“Yes.”
Cayena pushed herself upright again. Anyone could see she was overtaxing her body, yet she could not afford to rest.
This was the moment she would face her younger brother—the true culprit who had poisoned her.
Not to kill me, but to manufacture a false culprit and exploit the situation.
She had been nothing but a tool in Rezef’s hands. The title “marionette” had never fit her better.
The door opened. A handsome young man with golden hair and vivid blue eyes stepped inside.
“We greet His Highness the Prince.”
The maids lowered their heads with flushed, adoring faces.
It was Rezef Hill—Cayena’s half-brother, the sub-male lead of the novel, and the man destined to become emperor of the Eldaim Empire.
The traitor who would murder the emperor and seize the throne.
Beneath his gentle, handsome features lay a nature more sadistic than any other.
The emperor had been a cold father to all his children—so cold that outsiders sometimes wondered if they were truly his blood. With Rezef the cruelty had been especially severe. The emperor refused to share even a sliver of his power with his young son. Raised under such relentless disdain, Rezef had become a tyrant as naturally as breathing.
Olivia had been the one to cradle that affection-starved boy.
A pitiful child, starving for warmth and care.
Though anger still simmered inside her, the emotion Cayena felt as she looked at Rezef now was precisely that.
He must have come straight from outside; he still wore his cloak and epaulets.
“How are you feeling, sister?”
Cayena nearly laughed aloud. The person responsible for her illness was asking after her health.
She arranged a gentle smile on her lips.
“I can bear it.”
Rezef, who had expected her usual fretful complaints, faltered at the unexpected reply. This calm tone and soft demeanor were entirely new to him.
“…Is that so? I’m glad.”
He approached without waiting for permission and sat on the edge of her bed.
Now I see it clearly—how carelessly he has always treated me.
His voice was warm, yet it held neither respect nor courtesy. The excuse that they were family only made the disparity more glaring. Rezef had never felt any genuine affection for her. Every gesture revealed exactly how he had regarded her all along.
“The physician told me your condition is improving. You should make a full recovery soon.”
“I’ve caused you needless worry.”
“Please don’t say such things.”
The longer the conversation continued, the more unsettled Rezef became. He had never exchanged such composed words with Cayena before. Was it simply because she was too weak to complain?
She really does seem different.
He could not pinpoint the exact change, yet his instincts screamed that something was wrong. Cayena’s mature composure felt like speaking to an entirely different person wearing his sister’s face.
Almost as if she were not his sister at all.
“You must be busy. You didn’t have to come if it was too much trouble.”
Rezef’s blue eyes flashed as he studied her, trying to peer beneath the surface.
To all outward appearances, she simply looked exhausted from her illness.
“I couldn’t rest until I saw with my own eyes that you were safe. Please forgive your foolish brother.”
Her lack of tantrums or irritation clearly bewildered him.
By now she should have demanded ten times over when the culprit would be caught.
The lips that had always fluttered lightly as feathers now seemed weighted with lead, and her expression gave nothing away.
It must be the pain. She nearly died—she must be terrified.
It was difficult to see the woman he had always read as easily as the palm of his hand in any new light. More accurately, he did not want to see her differently. He had always told himself she was beautiful but useless, and he needed that belief to remain intact.
Therefore he concluded he was simply overthinking.
“I will find the one who tried to poison you and make them pay with my own hands. So please, sister, do not worry any longer.”
He took her hand in a firm, reassuring grip.
He truly sees me as nothing more than a tool for his throne—nothing above or beneath that.
Cayena smiled with cool detachment. Having her knowledge confirmed in such vivid color produced a strangely hollow feeling.
To an outsider the scene would have looked like the perfect image of devoted siblings. If she had not known the truth, even she might have found it touching. After all, her handsome younger brother had always played the part of the perfect, attentive sibling.
That’s why I never suspected that same brother would be the one to poison me.
But the Cayena of now understood exactly what kind of beast hid behind that feline smile.
The one who had tried to poison her was none other than Rezef.
To be precise, he had staged the near-murder for his own benefit.
That made it all the more vicious.
She gazed at him steadily.
“Stop searching for the culprit, Rezef.”
She felt his body give the faintest flinch.
“…What did you say, sister?”
Instead of raging and demanding the assassin’s head, she was telling him to abandon the hunt? The statement was so absurd it momentarily blanked his mind.
The villainess is a marionette.