Chapter 1.1

“Your Highness!”

A maid burst through the door, her voice urgent as she called out to Esha. Before Esha could rise to her feet, the maid stumbled forward and collapsed.

There was a deep gash cut diagonally across her back.

Moments later, armored soldiers stormed into the room.

“The princess is here!” someone shouted.

It all felt like a dream to Esha.

Her maid lying bleeding before her eyes. The familiar faces of knights she had occasionally seen in the training grounds. Even her husband, entering with the slow, deliberate steps of a predator returning from the hunt.

If this was a dream, she wanted to wake from it at once.

Esha sucked in a sharp breath.

It was the first time she had seen him in two years, and he was no longer the boy she remembered. Just before he had set off for war, he’d stood below six feet; now he towered above the average height of even Elendor’s men.

The silver armor clung tightly to his frame, emphasizing the breadth of his chest and the simmering anger coiled in his posture.

“Leave us.”

At Johan’s command, the soldiers obeyed without a word, turning on their heels and filing out. The sound of clinking metal grew fainter as they disappeared down the hall.

Rolll… Something rolled across the floor and stopped at Esha’s feet.

She crumpled where she stood. It was her father’s head, cold and lifeless.

Was this a nightmare? Or was it real?

Johan shook the blood-soaked ends of his hair from his eyes. He had grown far larger than the boy she once knew, yet there was no mistaking it. He was her husband, the man she had longed for with aching desperation.

“…Johan.”

His name left her lips in a trembling whisper.

Johan did not move, his gaze flicking to her with only the faintest shift of his eyes. From the measured restraint in his movements, it was clear. There would be no warmth or response from him.

She had known this. She had known, but still, she had wanted to believe otherwise. Even as every paper in Elendor screamed of his betrayal, she had clung to the hope that it wasn’t true.

Their bond had been forged in childhood. To Esha, it had felt like fate.

Compared to her elder sister Portia, she had always been a girl of little worth, unable to obtain what her sister gained so easily.

But two months after Portia and Johan’s betrothal was announced, her sister died suddenly. And in her place, Esha’s name had been signed on the engagement contract.

She had been destined to become a nun. To her, it felt like a dream.

If this was not fate, then what was it?

For the first time, she had taken something of her sister’s. That alone had made her feel as though she could soar.

At the time, Johan had been only eleven years old.

Esha had been there for every moment of his childhood. It would not be an exaggeration to say she had raised him herself. She could proudly claim that no one loved him more than she did.

Even if he had been brought to her country as a political hostage under the pretense of tribute, that was a matter between nations, not between the two of them. With the Imperial House having only two daughters, it was inevitable that a son-in-law would be chosen to continue the royal line.

Yes, everything had been perfect… until now.

“You…!”

Staggering to her feet, Esha lunged at Johan.

In her murky, water-colored eyes swirled two years of waiting, an indescribable sense of betrayal, and a bitter resentment toward her own heart that still pounded violently at the sight of how much he had grown.

“Johan, you traitor—”

She raised her hand to strike him, but before she could, a gauntleted hand shot out and seized her wrist, stopping her cold.

She faltered under the unyielding strength of his grip. A strength that was unmistakably that of a grown man.

Johan stepped in close, pressing against her. The thick scent of blood made Esha’s brow knit in disgust.

“Do I still look like a child to you?”

Let me go…!

Esha writhed, trying to wrench her wrist free, but Johan’s hand clamped down harder. Then, with a sudden motion, he grabbed the back of her neck, exposed beneath her pinned-up hair. Her legs nearly buckled as a hot flush spread across her face. The way he handled her—like some sort of game—set her entire body alight with shame and fury.

Without a word, Johan dragged her to one of the windows and flung it open, shoving her forward.

The dizzying drop below made Esha lift her chin defiantly, but she could do little else. She struggled with all her strength, but it was useless. From behind, Johan pressed his armored body tightly against her, his hips and thighs pinning her in place so that her upper body hung out the window.

She flinched at the cold bite of his metal breastplate through the thin fabric of her dress.

“From this day forth, Atlan is free of Elendor’s chains. We will stand as an independent monarchy!”

“HURRAH!”

The soldiers gathered in perfect rows below roared their approval at Johan’s declaration.

Esha bit her lip hard, willing herself not to cry, but the hot breath against her ear and the merciless grip on her body made her tremble uncontrollably.