“The late emperor, Mad King,
envied my father. His ugly jealousy ultimately led to my father’s death.”
Dian’s expression shifted
into confusion. He hadn’t known either of his grandfathers, and hearing this
made him uncertain. Could the downfall of a noble family have been caused by
something so personal?
Jeffrey noticed Dian’s
uncertainty and chuckled softly.
“You find it hard to
believe, don’t you?”
“…”
“You’ll understand as you
live longer. Many of the world’s great events are triggered by the most trivial
things.”
"Do you have any basis
for this belief?" Dian asked cautiously, avoiding directly accusing his
uncle of paranoia.
“Did you know that the late
emperor and my father were childhood friends?” Jeffrey asked.
Dian shook his head.
“I suppose no one talks
about it these days. My father practically grew up in the palace. Your
great-grandfather, the emperor at the time, wanted my father to be a companion
to his son.”
The young Lord
Acheron—Jeffrey’s father and the last Duke of Acheron—and Mad King, the late
emperor, grew up like brothers, playing and studying together.
Lord Acheron’s
coming-of-age ceremony was held in the grand ballroom of the imperial palace,
the first time for a non-royal. At that time, the Acheron family’s influence
surpassed even that of the Rimone family. Comparing the two would be an insult
to the Acherons.
The Rimone family gained
power by making enemies and extracting blood and tears to secure their
influence. But the Acheron family was universally respected, and Duke Acheron
was the emperor’s most trusted ally. Had Duke Acheron had a daughter, the
emperor would likely have made her his daughter-in-law.
With both the Duke and his
son, Lord Acheron, enjoying the emperor’s trust, and Lord Acheron being the
closest confidant of the future emperor, Mad King, no one doubted that the
Acheron family’s future was secure.
But in just a few decades,
the radiant glory of the Acheron family was crushed. The once inseparable
friends had grown distant as they grew older.
“My father never told me
the details. But I suspect that the more time they spent together, the more the
late emperor’s inferiority complex was provoked,” Jeffrey continued.
Dian couldn’t fully take
his uncle’s words at face value. He had to consider that Jeffrey’s feelings about
his father could skew his perspective.
Still, if there was any
truth to what Jeffrey said, he could understand the late emperor’s feelings. Was
this similar to how I feel about Kuhn? Dian wondered.
Kuhn had saved his life
numerous times. Their "deals" were hardly deals—more like desperate
pleas for survival on Dian’s part. True transactions happened only when both
parties were on equal footing. When one was overwhelmingly weaker, all they
could do was bow and beg.
Though he often played the
fool, Dian had his pride. Despite being called a "half-prince," he
was still of noble blood. Once acknowledged as royalty, there was no one he had
to bow to except the emperor.
Yet, bowing to Kuhn never
made him feel humiliated.
The difference between Dian
and the late emperor was in their mindsets. Dian didn’t let his dark emotions
consume him. He acknowledged his weaknesses and wasn’t ashamed to seek help
when needed. He accepted the strength of others without envy.
Even now, Dian sometimes
envied Kuhn. Kuhn seemed to lack nothing—he was even lucky. But envy never
turned to resentment. Dian knew that no matter how much he envied Kuhn, he
could never take what belonged to him.
"Uncle, I’m sorry, but
I don’t fully understand. Throughout history, rulers have often been jealous of
capable subordinates, fearing that they could threaten their position. But the
empire is different. The Holy Tree ensures that only royal blood can rule. No
matter how powerful a noble family becomes, the ruler will always be the
emperor."
Jeffrey’s face darkened as
he revealed a long-buried secret.
“Your grandfather… was born
with the physical traits of a royal.”
Dian’s eyes widened in
shock, his mind going blank for a moment.
“…What?”
"My father’s hair was
a deep brown. But in truth, it had a reddish tint, with streaks of silver. He
dyed it his entire life."
A non-royal born with the
traits of a royal? It would have caused an uproar throughout the empire.
The Duke of Acheron and his
wife had gone to great lengths to conceal their son’s secret. But young Lord
Acheron’s intelligence and talents had caught the emperor’s eye. He was invited
into the palace as a companion to the crown prince, Mad King, where his secret
was eventually revealed.
"It wasn’t just his
appearance," Jeffrey continued. "One day, while playing with the
young Mad King, my father was brought to the Holy Tree room, and a leaf was
placed in his hand. It didn’t wither."
Dian felt his breath catch
in his throat.
"You mean… the symbol
of the Holy Tree, which proves royal blood, manifested in someone outside the
royal family?" Dian whispered, shocked.
Jeffrey nodded gravely.
"I doubted it myself at first. I even wondered if my father was of royal descent.
But think about it. There have been rare cases of royals born without the Holy
Tree’s mark. And the noble houses have long been intermarried with the royal
family. It’s possible."
Mad King began to see Lord
Acheron not as a friend but as a rival. Their childhood closeness gave way to
growing distance as they aged.
"My father was a principled
man. He didn’t know how to flatter or grovel. If he had shown absolute
submission before the emperor, maybe things would have turned out
differently."
By the time Mad King
ascended to the throne, he had surrounded himself with sycophants eager to please
him, the most prominent being the Duke of Rimone. Meanwhile, his relationship
with Lord Acheron deteriorated. After becoming emperor, Mad King began to
openly check the power of the Acheron family.
“We got some reprieve when Light
King was born,” Jeffrey added.
“The current emperor?” Dian
asked.
“Yes. He was born with the
perfect traits of the Holy Tree, and I wasn’t a threat because I wasn’t a
holy-blooded descendant.”
The birth of a true royal
in the next generation temporarily eased Mad King’s insecurity. But a pivotal
event reignited his paranoia.
"Did you know the
emperor had a younger brother?" Jeffrey asked.
"Yes. He was born weak
and died within a day."
"That prince didn’t
show any traits of the Holy Tree."
Dian let out a bitter
laugh. Of course, the situation would be even more complicated.
“Some say the prince died
because he was too weak, but there’s speculation that Mad King had him killed.
The maids and doctors present at the birth were all executed. No one who saw
the child survived.”
Dian exhaled deeply. It
seemed more likely that Mad King, being the ruthless man he was, couldn’t bear
to have a son without the Holy Tree’s mark.
"After that, Mad King’s
treatment of my father grew even more hostile. Every noble in the empire could
sense the tension. My father withdrew entirely from politics and returned to
the duchy."
The final straw came when Light
King and Edith Acheron, Lord Acheron’s daughter, fell in love. Mad King
suspected that Lord Acheron was plotting to use his daughter to infiltrate the
palace and eventually usurp the throne.
"Mad King ordered my
father to prepare military forces under the guise of suppressing rebellion. My
father had his suspicions, but he couldn’t refuse the emperor’s order."
The troops he assembled
were later used as evidence to accuse the Acheron family of treason. Imperial
forces stormed the Black Fortress. Jeffrey barely escaped, cursing his father
as he fled.
But as time passed,
Jeffrey’s perspective changed. His father hadn’t been unable to refuse the emperor’s
command; he had chosen not to.
“My father likely believed
that his death was the only way to free the emperor from his obsession. But he
was wrong.”
Mad King wasn’t satisfied
with Lord Acheron’s death. He accused the family of treason, staining their
name with dishonor, and hunted down every member of the Acheron family. Even
Edith, who carried Mad King’s grandchild, was relentlessly pursued and killed.
"A madman. Only
someone insane could have done such things," Jeffrey seethed, suppressing
his rising anger.
Lost in his own emotions,
Jeffrey failed to notice the dark expression on Dian’s face.
Was it because of me? Dian thought. Was I the seed of this misfortune?
The child born between my parents brought about the downfall of the Acheron
family and the deaths of so many.
Dian had expected some
terrible truth, but the reality was even more shocking.
So that’s who my
grandfather was.
Dian had grown up outside
the palace and hadn’t received a proper royal education. As a result, he hadn’t
developed a strong sense of pride in being a holy-blooded descendant. Still,
there had always been a faint sense of admiration for his lineage.
The only holy-blooded descendants
he had known were the emperor and the Silver King. Both were always calm and
composed, their judgment cold and rational. Though they lacked warmth, they
seemed special, distinct from ordinary people.
Dian had felt a quiet pride
in sharing the same blood as them. Sometimes, he even indulged in the thought
that he, too, might be a little special.
But now, hearing his
uncle’s story, he realized that this wasn’t a guaranteed trait of the
holy-blooded.
Then again, I suppose
that’s why someone like me could be born.
Dian felt a creeping fear
that he had inherited his grandfather’s worst traits.
The root cause of the
tragedy was Mad King’s insecurity. The manifestation of the Holy Tree’s symbol
in Lord Acheron was merely a secondary factor. Had Mad King been more
confident, such a massacre would never have occurred.
I’m no different from Mad
King, aren’t I?
Dian was acutely aware of
his own shortcomings. And beside him stood the Silver King—a powerful rival.
The Silver King had been trained in royal duties from a young age, combining
natural talent with diligent effort. In every way, he surpassed Dian.
How can I be sure I won’t
become a ruler like my grandfather?
Dian’s desire to become
emperor hadn’t originally been grand or noble. His first reason was survival.
As he fought for his life, the number of people he had to protect grew. To
safeguard them, he needed power, and that led to his second reason for wanting
to be emperor.
But his once resolute
determination had begun to falter recently. His world had grown more peaceful.
He had reunited with his uncle, his mother’s only remaining family, and had
married, creating a family of his own. Even his relationship with the Silver
King, once fraught with tension, had improved. He found himself dreaming that
perhaps one day the Silver King might even call him “brother.”
Dian had begun to think
that this life wasn’t so bad. But it only deepened his internal struggle. Could
he truly become emperor with such uncertainty in his heart? Did he really
deserve to take the throne over the Silver King simply because he had been born
first?
His turmoil had only
increased when Violet delivered unexpected news—he was going to be a father. At
first, he had been in shock, trying to calm the tearful Violet who was
embarrassed by the situation. He hadn’t had time to fully process what becoming
a father meant.
But as the days passed, a
powerful emotion began to swell within him, different from the desperation that
had once driven him to survive. He found himself both laughing and on the verge
of tears. For the sake of his unborn child, he felt there was nothing he
couldn’t do. He resolved that he must become emperor, if only to protect his
child.
But now, staring at
Jeffrey, Dian’s mind was in turmoil. The conviction he had just regained was
once again shaken by his uncle’s deep-seated resentment. Dian couldn’t shake
the uneasy feeling that if he became emperor, history might repeat itself.
"Uncle… is this what
you spoke of when you last met with His Majesty?"
Jeffrey shook his head.
“The Emperor doesn’t know,
and I have no intention of telling him. You shouldn’t bring it up to him either.”
“But doesn’t His Majesty
need to know the truth about what happened in the past?”
“You don’t understand. It’s
a shameful chapter of the late emperor’s reign. Nothing good will come from
revealing it. Besides, His Majesty is very different from the late emperor. I
doubt he could even comprehend such feelings.”
“Then how will you prove
the Acheron family’s innocence?”
“The late emperor was
misled. Someone deliberately framed the Acheron family.”
“And who is this
‘someone’?”
Jeffrey’s lips curled into
a bitter, cold smile.
“Rimone.”
“…Uncle, clearing your name
by accusing someone else—”
“This is no accusation!”
Jeffrey roared, cutting Dian off.
“That wretch, the former
Duke of Rimone, was the one who orchestrated the entire massacre. He led the
charge, directing the slaughter of the Acheron family’s retainers in the most
brutal way.”
Grinding his teeth, Jeffrey
continued with venom in his voice, “That man will reap what he sowed. For the
crimes he committed, he can’t even claim injustice in hell.”
Jeffrey’s voice was filled
with resentment and deep-seated fury, a shadow of bitterness that had festered
for years. As Dian watched the veins bulging in Jeffrey’s clenched fists, his
own expression grew somber.
“Dian, never forget the
tragic death of your mother.”
“Of course not, Uncle,”
Dian replied with a faint, bitter smile.
“How could I ever forget?”
Near midnight, Dian left
the Black House and quietly returned to the Ivy Mansion, slipping in through
the back door to avoid attention.
Kuhn had been waiting for
him in the meeting room. He had remained there all evening, maintaining the
appearance of a secretive meeting with Dian.
The large round table was
cluttered with documents, and Kuhn had been reading through them when he sensed
Dian’s arrival. The wall disguised as a fireplace swung open, revealing Dian as
he stepped out, casually waving.
“I’m a bit late, aren’t I?”
Dian approached the round
table, pulling out a chair before collapsing into it with a heavy sigh. He
leaned back in the chair, staring wordlessly at the ceiling.
Kuhn watched him for a
moment before starting to gather the scattered documents.
“Get some rest.”
“You said there was something
you wanted to discuss.”
“You don’t seem like you’re
in the right state of mind to hear it right now.”
“No, let’s do it now. I
don’t want to carry this feeling into tomorrow,” Dian said, suddenly standing
and walking toward the door. He opened it, and the knights standing guard
outside bowed.
“The conversation with the
Marquis is taking longer than expected. You can all take your leave and rest.”
“Will Your Highness not be
returning to the palace tonight?”
“I’ll stay here. I’ll see
you tomorrow.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
After dismissing the
knights, Dian returned to the table. Through the briefly opened door, a servant
peeked in curiously. Kuhn motioned for him to enter.
“Bring us some drinks.
Something light.”
“Yes, my lord,” the servant
responded promptly.
In no time, the servant
returned with drinks and quickly departed, leaving the two of them alone once
more. Without saying much, they quietly drank a couple of rounds together.
“I don’t know if you’ll
believe what I’m about to tell you,” Kuhn finally said, breaking the silence.
Kuhn set his glass down and
began speaking, but he didn’t refill it.
"The Silver King already
knows. She’s aware of your plan to reclaim your succession rights and ascend to
the throne."
Dian’s brow furrowed.
"She knows?" Dian
asked, surprised.
"Yes," Kuhn
confirmed.
"How?"
Kuhn recounted the
conversation he had had with her at the White Chip, explaining how she had
pieced together everything.
"So, she figured out
the whole situation just from intuition?" Dian asked, skeptical.
"It might sound hard
to believe, but yes."
Dian paused for a moment
before nodding slowly.
"No, I believe it. If
it’s her, it’s possible."
He trusted Kuhn wasn’t
lying, but more importantly, Dian knew how perceptive the Silver King was. It
wasn’t just her natural intelligence; her insight was sharpened by constant
effort and discipline, something Dian had recognized when they had reviewed
meeting minutes together not long ago.
The Silver King wasn’t
simply born with brilliance—she worked hard to cultivate it, and that
difference made Dian’s own shortcomings more acceptable to him. He didn’t
resent his relative lack of talent because, deep down, he knew he hadn’t put in
the same level of effort.
"The Silver King knows
everything, and yet…," Dian muttered, staring down at his drink.
How could she not be angry?
Never once had he felt that
the Silver King was antagonizing him. In fact, she had openly said they were
rivals for the imperial crown. Shouldn't she have been furious, knowing that
she might lose the throne? It wasn’t just about lacking ambition—becoming
emperor wasn’t something to pursue for material greed alone.
Could I remain so calm if I
were her?
Dian felt ashamed,
realizing how much smaller and pettier he was in comparison to his half-sister.
"I’m pathetic,
honestly. It would’ve been better if I’d been born as her younger
brother."
Kuhn was quietly surprised
by Dian’s reaction. He had always been puzzled by Dian’s seemingly casual
attempts to act like an older brother. It wasn’t just talk, after all.
What an unusual guy.
Despite his difficult life,
Dian harbored no bitterness toward the world. His natural disposition was
upbeat, and being around him always brought a sense of ease. Dian was one of
the few people Kuhn could call a true friend.
Kuhn had let Jeffrey's
scheming play out largely because he trusted Dian. He had decided long ago that
if Dian ever betrayed him, Kuhn wouldn’t be the first to turn his back.
And yet, Kuhn’s stomach
churned. Despite that trust, he had ultimately chosen to betray Dian. Between
Dian and her, Kuhn had chosen her.
"Dian, I don’t plan on
hiding anything from her anymore. The Silver King already knows, so using that
as an excuse is pointless," Kuhn said, lowering his head.
"I’m sorry. I know an
apology doesn’t fix everything."
Dian looked up slowly.
"…This isn’t because
of my uncle?"
They held each other's gaze
in silence. Kuhn shook his head.
"It has nothing to do
with him. Our deal was between you and me, and your uncle hasn’t acted on anything
yet."
"Yet…" Dian let
out a small, knowing laugh. It was an ominous word. Jeffrey would certainly
become a problem, it was only a matter of time. It didn’t surprise Dian that
Kuhn was aware of this.
"So, what now?"
Dian asked.
"Our secret pact is
over," Kuhn said, bluntly.
Dian’s eyes widened.
"Even if you become
emperor, you don’t need to honor our agreement. In fact, since I was the one to
break the pact first, I owe you compensation. Just tell me what you want."
Dian stared at Kuhn,
processing the sudden shift. "So now you’re going to help make her
emperor?"
Kuhn let out a bitter
laugh.
"She wouldn’t allow
that."
Her resolute voice still
echoed in Kuhn’s ears.
"The emperor of this
empire isn’t someone who can be placed on or removed from the throne at will.
You aren’t the one making me emperor, so don’t delude yourself."
"I won’t be helping
her like I helped you," Kuhn said, his voice tinged with frustration.
Dian frowned, confused.
"You're turning back
right at the moment you're about to reach your goal. Soon, the Acheron family
will be restored, and once my succession rights are reinstated, I'll be the
next emperor," Dian said, his voice heavy with conviction.
Kuhn stayed silent.
"You’re not going to
help the Silver King or interfere with me?" Dian pressed, frustrated by
Kuhn’s unusual lack of clarity. Kuhn, who was always so decisive and direct,
now seemed hesitant.
"What about the wishes
of your clan? Have you even discussed this with them?"
"I’ve spoken with a
few," Kuhn admitted.
"And what did they
say?"
Kuhn had consulted with a
few elders from his clan. There were twelve members in the council of elders,
but only three were close enough to the imperial capital to meet with him
quickly. It was likely that a full council meeting would be convened later in
the year.
Two of the three expressed
deep concern and disappointment, while Mason, the third, remained silent on the
matter.
"You don’t need to
worry about that. The final decision is mine," Kuhn replied, his tone
dismissive.
"What are you
thinking? Are you really just going to stand by and watch now?" Dian
demanded, incredulous.
"Watch... I suppose
that’s not an inaccurate description."
"Kuhn!"
Dian snapped.
Kuhn had begun to feel
curious. Was the throne really ordained by fate, as she had said? Would Dian
truly ascend, or would some unforeseen variable come into play? He wanted to
see how it all played out. And whatever the Silver King decided, Kuhn wanted to
be by her side, offering his unwavering support.
If she ever asked for his
help, he would give everything to assist her. But Kuhn knew she would never
make such a request.
"You’re out of your
mind! It’s one thing to be infatuated, but this is insane!" Dian shouted,
exasperated.
Kuhn chuckled at Dian’s
outburst. He could read the concern in Dian’s eyes. It was almost amusing—who
was worried about whom here?
"You’re laughing? You
think this is funny?"
"Let’s stop,"
Kuhn said. "This conversation is getting confusing. I’m not sure if we’re
being serious or not anymore."
Dian glared at him for a
moment before sighing deeply and standing up.
"Fine. I understand
what you’re saying. I’ll need to think about this for a while. Let’s talk again
later."
"Alright," Kuhn
replied.
But just as Dian reached
the door, he turned back.
"One more thing."
"What?"
"If the Silver King
becomes emperor, you can’t marry her."
Kuhn didn’t respond.
"Only someone of noble
blood from a ducal house can marry the emperor. It’s not just about lineage;
the emperor has a duty to produce an heir, and only through a union with a
ducal house can a child be born with the traits of the Holy Bloodline."
Dian watched Kuhn for a
moment, gauging his reaction.
"Then again, I’m sure
you already knew that."
Without waiting for a
response, Dian left the room.
Kuhn poured himself another
drink, downing it in one gulp. The room spun for a moment, and he pressed his
hand to his forehead, closing his eyes.
He spent the rest of the
night sitting alone in the meeting room. As dawn broke and sunlight began
streaming through the windows, a servant knocked on the door.
"My lord, His Highness
the Iron King is leaving for the palace."
Kuhn rose to see Dian off.
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