"YOUR MAJESTY!!!" 

A desperate cry echoed throughout the court field, piercing the ears of everyone present at the trial. 

THUD!

A young woman with lime-green hair and emerald eyes slammed her forehead against the ground repeatedly, the sound of impact resonating in the chamber. 

THUD!

"PLEASE HAVE MERCY! PLEASE, SHOW YOUR GRACE!" 

The woman knelt in deep prostration, her forehead bleeding as she continued to lower herself in submission. 

Beside her ….

"M-Mother, huhu~!" 

… Stood a small boy, no older than five, with silvery-white hair and tear-filled emerald eyes.

He sobbed uncontrollably, watching his mother's pitiful state. 

"I BEG YOU~! I BEG YOU~!" 

With trembling hope, the woman lifted her face. 

She stared straight ahead, gazing at His Majesty the King, seated regally upon his throne.

Before the King knelt a man with silver-white hair, his hands bound behind his back, awaiting the judgment that would seal his fate. 

"PLEASE FORGIVE MY HUSBAND!!!" 

Her tears fell freely, cascading from her gleaming emerald eyes and flowing down her cheeks in a torrent of despair. 

"I-I …!" 

She collapsed further to the ground, her body trembling violently as she lowered herself as much as she could. 

Her devotion was clear—a desperate plea to the King before the gathered crowd. 

"M-Mother, w-what are you doing?" 

The young boy beside her didn't know how to react.

He could only cry helplessly, watching his mother. 

Until ….

"HERMINA!" 

A thunderous voice cut through the air, snapping the woman out of her overwhelming sorrow. 

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, MY DEAREST?!" 

It was the voice of the man on trial before the King—her husband, the boy's father ….

"KEEP YOUR HEAD HIGH!" 

… The Marquess himself. 

"WE HAVE DONE NOTHING WRONG!" 

The man, Marquess Aschenford, had always been known for his integrity and unwavering sense of justice. 

"NO!" 

But here he was, a noble of high regard, now reduced to this wretched state. 

"I AM NOT GUILTY!" 

"HOW DARE YOU?!" 

Another voice roared—this time, the King himself, ruler of the Kingdom of Soultherns. 

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK SUCH WORDS AFTER WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO ME?!" 

The King gripped the armrest of his throne tightly, fury burning in his eyes. 

"ASCHENFORD, YOU DARE TO ATTEMPT MY ASSASSINATION?!" 

He slammed his fist against the throne repeatedly, trying to quell the flames of his rage. 

"AND NOW, YOU SHOW NO REMORSE?!" 

His face darkened, his complexion red with anger as he clenched his teeth. 

"ESCLAT! EXECUTE THIS TRAITOR!" 

It was over. 

The King had spoken. 

SRAKK~!

The cape of Duke Esclat, bearing the emblem of an ice shard, billowed majestically as he stepped forward. 

"I never thought …." 

TAP!

Marquess Aschenford's silver eyes followed the sound of boots coming to a stop mere inches away from him. 

"… That our friendship would end like this." 

Duke Esclat, a man with fiery red hair and golden eyes, lowered his gaze with a look of anguish. 

His friend, Marquess Aschenford, who had once stood proudly by his side, now knelt before him, resigned to his fate. 

SRING!

The gleaming blade of Duke Esclat's sword was unsheathed, its tip pointing at the Marquess' neck. 

"As Duke Esclat," he began formally, "I must ask you something." 

"I am listening," replied Marquess Aschenford, matching the Duke's formal tone. 

"Do you regret committing such an immoral act?" 

"What a foolish question." 

GRRT!

Duke Esclat's brow furrowed at the Marquess' audacious reply. 

"Of course, I regret it." 

"…!" 

"Would you like to know what I regret, the blessed Duke Esclat?" 

All eyes turned to the Marquess—witnesses, family, and even the King himself. 

"I regret …." 

His voice cut through the tension like a blade. 

"… Failing to kill that swine of a King who sits on the throne." 

"You!!!" 

SING!

Duke Esclat snarled, pressing the blade closer to the Marquess' neck until it drew blood. 

"…!" 

Realizing what he had done, the Duke quickly pulled the blade away and plunged it into the wooden platform beneath them.

Dropping to one knee, he whispered hoarsely, "Stop this nonsense and apologize. If you do, His Majesty might show mercy." 

But Marquess Aschenford only smirked in defiance. 

"What right do you have to command me?" 

"...!" 

"Do as you're told …."

Duke Esclat froze. 

"… And I will do as I wish." 

The bond forged over nearly thirty years—since their infancy—was about to be irreparably severed. 

"YOUR MAJESTY! I HAVE NO OBJECTIONS TO BEING EXECUTED TODAY!" 

The Marquess' voice echoed through the hall. 

"ON ONE CONDITION!" 

Duke Esclat stood, his golden eyes glistening with unspoken sorrow as he turned toward the King. 

"SPARE MY WIFE AND SON!"

His voice cracked, his hands trembling as he gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. 

"THEY HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS!"

Tears began to spill from his eyes as he bit his lip to suppress a sob. 

"I ACTED ALONE!"

"HA! AND WHY SHOULD I LISTEN TO A TRAITOR LIKE YOU?!" 

The King dismissed his plea without hesitation. 

"Perhaps …." 

Marquess Aschenford's lips curled into a sinister grin. 

"… For the sake of a secret?" 

The King froze, his complexion paling as the Marquess uttered those words. 

"If you refuse …." 

The Marquess' tone was laced with malice. 

"… Shall I reveal everything here, in front of this audience?" 

The court field fell silent. 

The once-proud King of Soultherns now sat, visibly shaken, by the criminal's veiled threat.

***

KNOCK! KNOCK!

A knock on the door startled a young girl who was being meticulously groomed by her maids. 

However, with grace and poise, the girl welcomed whoever was knocking to enter her room. 

"Please, come in." 

By chance, as her makeup had just been completed, the girl promptly dismissed her maids once she recognized who had entered the room. 

"Father, what brings you here?" the girl asked gently, approaching the man she addressed as "Father" with calm composure. 

"Wow! Am I seeing an angel right now?" her father responded playfully, which immediately made his daughter blush. 

"Father!" 

"Hehe!" 

The room filled with the sound of light laughter. It was warm, comforting, serene, and pleasing to the ears. 

"Shi-Shi." 

"Yes, Father?" 

Shi-Shi, a loving nickname her father used for his only daughter, who had lost her mother upon birth. 

Her name was Shirley Ersteal. 

"It's hard to believe how much you've grown." 

The young girl with jet-black hair cascading down to her waist, fair golden-hued skin, and glowing red eyes smiled sweetly. 

"It feels like just yesterday you were crying weakly in bed. And now, look at you, about to make your debut." 

"S-stop it, Father. Don't praise me so much!"

Indeed. 

"You're making me embarrassed." 

On the occasion of her 14th birthday, which happened to fall today, Shirley was preparing for her grand debut in the royal palace. 

"Well, if you insist." 

Speaking of grand debuts, at the palace ….

"Shall we go?" 

… there would surely be many others making their debut as well, wouldn't there? 

--- 

"Wow, there she is~!" 

"S-she's stunning!" 

"Do you think she'll accept my proposal?" 

Whispers of admiration filled the room the moment Shirley entered, bringing pride to the young Miss Ersteal. 

Ah, Shirley relished it. 

The praises and admiring gazes directed at her—Shirley wanted more of them. 

Over and over again. 

"This is her first time entering high society, and yet she's already stealing the spotlight!" 

"Exactly, what's so special about her?!" 

It wasn't just the compliments from the men that thrilled Shirley; the envious remarks from other women and girls made her feel extraordinary as well. 

"Hey, hey! L-look over there!" 

But then, suddenly …. 

One of the women pointed behind Shirley, directing attention to the entrance where she had just arrived. 

More precisely, toward the doorway. 

"That silver hair …! Isn't it him …?" 

Curious about what had stolen attention away from her, Shirley turned around. 

Her crimson eyes immediately spotted a figure. 

"…." 

SWISH!

A young man with silvery-white hair and enchanting emerald-green eyes entered the room. 

His expression was gentle yet carried an aura of charisma. 

His naturally rosy lips and serene gaze exuded charm. 

He walked in confidently, accompanied by a personal knight with a powerful and imposing presence. 

"T-that's the heir of Aschenford, isn't it?" 

"Is he going to claim his official title now?" 

Aschenford …? 

Shirley pondered over the name. 

It felt familiar. 

As if ….

"…."

… She had heard or seen it somewhere before. 

"…!" 

While she was lost in thought, Shirley suddenly found herself locking eyes with the young Aschenford. 

As a result, Aschenford approached her and performed a respectful bow as a formality. 

"Ah, greetings to you too, Sir …?" 

However, Shirley couldn't shake off the feeling that something was amiss. 

"…!" 

Why …? 

Instead of speaking, the young man gestured to his knight for something. 

It turned out to be a stack of blank papers bound like a book. 

RUSTLE!

The young man opened the pages, which appeared to have been prepared well in advance, as the ink used for the writing was already dry. 

["A respectful greeting to you. May health and happiness always be with you."]

With an innocent expression and a warm smile, he presented the written words to Shirley. 

["My name is Escar Aschenford."]

"A-ah, I-I am Shirley Ersteal." 

Their unusual introduction ….

["Though brief, thank you. It is a pleasure to meet you."]

… Left Shirley feeling that the young man standing before her ….

["I cannot speak. Please forgive me if this way of communicating causes you inconvenience."] 

… Seemed profoundly pitiable.