Only then did Venick’s expression lighten. When asked to finally take a seat, he realized he had been standing in the reception room for over twenty minutes before sitting down.

“This is mithril, a metal our family prides itself on. It’s used to forge some of the strongest swords.”

“Thank you. I’ll put it to good use.”

“But… are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I wasn’t seriously injured in the first place.”

Rosalie deliberately raised her voice in response to his worried tone. She was growing weary of the constant concern—it was beginning to feel unnecessary.

“…Does Bianca know about this?”

It would become a headache if Bianca knew, or worse, if the story had spread through the social circles. Bianca could be appeased easily enough, but dealing with society at large would be tiresome.

“Don’t worry. His Highness made sure to keep everything under wraps. No rumors have spread. I didn’t inform Bianca, and the only one aware of the incident aside from us is His Majesty.”

“That’s a relief.”

“However, Bianca has been worried about not receiving any letters from you.”

“I’ll write to her separately. I’m glad this hasn’t become public knowledge.”

Venick shuddered, recalling Derivis’ terrifying behavior during the ordeal. When Rosalie had vanished, Derivis had been on the verge of becoming a mad prince, ready to cut down not only Nine but also the knights who stood in his way. It felt as though he was prepared to destroy anyone who dared obstruct him.

Noticing Venick’s peculiar expression, Rosalie tilted her head in confusion. He muttered his thoughts aloud without realizing it.

“…The Duke must never get hurt or disappear. For the sake of many lives…”

“…Did Derivis—His Highness—do something?”

When she asked, Venick cleared his throat and turned his head, but Rosalie pressed him to explain. Reluctantly, he spoke.

“His Highness drew a sword on the Empress… and it seems he resorted to threats and torture. He also attempted to cut down the knights who interfered…”

‘Goodness.’

Rosalie rubbed her forehead. If word of such actions had spread, Derivis could have been stripped of his title. After all, Nine was still officially the Empress until her sentencing.

“Please, I beg you, don’t tell His Highness that I said anything.”

“Yes… I’ll pretend I know nothing as well.”

Even so, it was clear his extreme actions were what had ultimately saved her. Although they were excessive, she couldn’t bring herself to blame him.

“Thank you…!”

Venick’s demeanor, reminiscent of a cornered deer, made Rosalie chuckle awkwardly. She couldn’t even begin to imagine just how out of control Derivis had been.

⊱⊱⊱────── {.⋅ ✧✧✧ ⋅.} ──────⊰⊰⊰

A week had passed since the kidnapping. That day, Rosalie was summoned to the imperial palace by Emperor Patrick. Despite Derivis’ objections, saying her body hadn’t fully recovered, she dismissed his concerns and decided to go.

“Duchess, you’ve arrived.”

“I greet His Majesty, the Emperor of the Empire.”

“No, no, skip the formalities. Have a seat.”

Patrick gestured toward the tea he had personally prepared. As Rosalie sat down, she recognized the familiar scent wafting from the cup.

Though it smelled sweet, she knew from experience how bitter it would taste.

“These days, my sons’ faces seem much brighter.”

Patrick said with a wide grin as he poured her tea. Rosalie glanced at the cup, her eyes darting to the sweetest-looking cookie on the plate.

“And I hear Derivis wants to leave the palace.”

“…Yes, that’s correct.”

Despite the weight of the topic, Patrick’s hands remained steady as he poured the tea. He seemed unfazed by Derivis’ announcement, as though it were an inevitable outcome—an overdue task finally being addressed.

“You’ve done what I couldn’t, Duchess.”

Patrick admitted his failure, but Rosalie’s involvement had lessened his guilt. The light brown tea stream stopped, and as Rosalie looked at her full cup, she reached for the most appealing cookie.

“Are you feeling well?”

“Yes, I am.”

Her response was calm even as the bittersweet scent of the tea lingered between them.

“I called you today to check on how you’re feeling—and to tell you about my son, who brought nearly every palace healer to the Duke’s mansion.”

Patrick’s teasing remark drew an awkward smile from Rosalie. She’d already learned from Erudit after waking up that Derivis had brought enough healers to treat an entire knight order.

“Haha, if it’s for the Duchess, 100 healers would be nothing. By the way, did you receive your reward?”

“Yes, I received it gratefully. I only did what was necessary, but thank you for your thoughtfulness.”

Patrick laughed heartily and took a sip of tea. Just a few days ago, the Emperor had sent Rosalie a pair of imperial horses—a rare breed reserved for royalty—to her mansion. It was his way of acknowledging her role in eliminating disloyal nobles.

This gesture made it clear that the Dukedom of Judeheart had solidified its position as the Empire’s most cherished noble family.

“The Empress has been asking for you.”

“For me?”

Rosalie asked, lowering the cookie she had just picked up, surprised.

“She’s currently shackled and under constant guard by imperial knights. If you wish to meet her, you may; if not, that’s fine too.”

“I’ll meet her.”

She had things to say to Nine. When Patrick offered to call a knight to escort her to the dungeons, Rosalie shook her head.

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Oh? Is someone waiting outside?”

“Yes. He said he wouldn’t intrude so that I could speak freely with Your Majesty…”

Since the kidnapping, Derivis had barely left her side. Even though he was obviously busy, he visited her every day to check on her. Whenever she went out, he insisted on accompanying her or sending Nathan in his place, his unease apparent.

“After you disappeared from the palace, Derivis threatened and nearly killed the Empress.”

“Yes, I’ve heard.”

“I didn’t stop him. I wanted to shield him from any consequences so that he could save you.”

Patrick chuckled awkwardly before glancing at the door. Rosalie had driven Nine from power and saved his sons more than once. To him, she was a treasure.

“Well, go on. Let’s have tea again sometime.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Rosalie rose, bowed, and left the room. Waiting outside, Derivis naturally moved to her side.

“You came out early.”

“I heard the Empress is asking for me.”

“…You can ignore her.”

“I’m going to go see her.”

Derivis’ face clouded with dissatisfaction, but knowing Rosalie wouldn’t change her mind once it was set, he sighed.

“I’ll go with you.”

“Let’s go.”

Derivis led her to the underground dungeons with reluctant steps.

The moment Rosalie stepped into the damp, oppressive prison, the air seemed to fill her lungs with despair and anguish.

“Do you want to leave?”

Derivis asked, noticing the faint crease in her brow. He moved to block her path with his arm, but Rosalie gently pushed it down and shook her head.

“I’m fine. It just reminded me of where Rondun held me, that’s all.”

Her voice echoed in the dungeon, accompanied by the faint, unsettling sound of grinding teeth.

“But Rondun is dead, and I’ll never be in a place like that again, so I’m fine now.”

She walked further in without hesitation. The lab and prison where she’d been held were burned to ashes by Derivis and Nathan that day.

“Duchess…?”

A weak voice called from one of the cells.

Rosalie stopped in front of the bars, gazing impassively at Nine. The once dignified and elegant Empress now looked so small and pitiful.

“I heard you were asking for me.”

“…You’re alive. Rondun failed.”

Nine muttered before breaking into a manic laugh. She clutched her head, despairing.

“Did you want to confirm I survived?”

“It drives me mad to see you alive and standing in front of me.”

Nine’s sharp, hateful words cut through the air. Then, Rosalie crouched to meet her eyes through the bars.

“I am alive. And even if I hadn’t survived, your plan would never have succeeded.”

“Shut up! If not for you, everything would’ve worked perfectly!”

“While I was imprisoned, Rondun told me something. He planned to turn Prince Radinis into a puppet, then dispose of both you and the prince afterward.”

“That’s impossible.”

Rosalie remained silent as Nine’s expression turned to confusion and denial.

Rondun had spoken freely to Rosalie, intrigued by her. He admitted he intended to eliminate both once his experiment succeeded because a finished project held no further interest for him. He also confessed that after meeting Rosalie, his desire to complete the experiment had waned.

“Hahaha! Of course! Whether wizard or human, we’re all slaves to our desires, killing and betraying each other!”

Nine screamed, laughing hysterically.

“No, it’s because you’re that kind of person. Don’t justify your vile actions so easily.”

Nine’s laughter abruptly stopped. Her empty violet eyes stared back at Rosalie, void of emotion.

Feeling that she’d said all she needed to, Rosalie rose and walked back to Derivis. He placed a protective arm around her shoulder, not sparing Nine a single glance as they left.

Nine was left behind, slumped on the cold, lifeless floor, devoid of warmth or hope.

⊱⊱⊱────── {.⋅ ✧✧✧ ⋅.} ──────⊰⊰⊰

A few days later, Nine’s execution was carried out, marking an unprecedented event. While royal executions had occurred before, they were typically done discreetly and humanely.

Nine’s, however, was a public spectacle in the capital square. She faced the scorn of the crowd and was pelted with stones and jeers, meeting her end in humiliation and despair.

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