YAME Chapter 001

Chapter 001. The Grand Duke’s Spoils (1)

‘Stop crying! If you keep fussing, I’ll have the Red Witch take you away!’

In the kingdom of Feitan, there was a figure frequently mentioned to scold young children.

The Red Witch. This was how the people of Feitan referred to the princess of the enemy nation, Hernia.

The princess, with her red hair and red eyes, donned silver armor and headed into battle. Her armor, always stained red, led her in the vanguard.

There was no more fitting nickname for someone so bathed in red.

‘The Red Witch loves blood. Especially the blood of disobedient children.’

Feitan’s parents would describe the enemy princess as more cruel and terrifying when disciplining their children. It wasn’t hard to add a few words to her already inflated infamy.

Thus, the reputation of Rosalyn de Hernia grew day by day, like a snowball rolling down a slope.

“Sionne!”

Rosalyn, who had come down the slope on a sled, called out to Sionne, waiting below. Lost in thought, he lifted his head to meet her eyes.

“You were thinking about something else, weren’t you? I told you not to take your eyes off me.”

Rosalyn’s cheeks and nose were red from the cold northern wind as she spoke. Despite her scolding tone, her eyes were filled with unmistakable joy.

Sionne wondered if this person could truly be the same bloodthirsty killer he knew. The more time they spent together, the more unexpected sides he saw.

“No, I was watching.”

He had been observing the children sledding, and it seemed he had made the right choice to bring her out secretly. Seeing the Grand Duke so excited confirmed it.

“You almost changed direction just in front of the tree, right? I didn’t expect you to be this good on your first try.”

Sionne said as he draped a coat over Rosalyn’s shoulders. It was just sledding, but his voice was gentle as he praised her.

“Of course. Royals have to do well, even if it’s their first time.”

Contrary to her words, Rosalyn wore a satisfied expression. She leaned her face against Sionne’s firm chest as he wrapped her in the coat.

“……”

Sionne froze at her intimate and affectionate gesture. Swallowing his tumultuous emotions, he gently stroked Rosalyn’s back.

“Let’s head in. It’s time for dinner.”

“Hmm, has it gotten that late already?”

Rosalyn’s voice was tinged with regret. She lifted her face to look at her lover.

Snow had piled up on his black hair. Rosalyn lifted her hand to brush it off.

“Ah, thank you.”

Sionne was momentarily flustered but soon smiled beautifully. Rosalyn couldn’t immediately withdraw her hand, captivated by his pure smile like morning dew.

Her hand traveled from his hair to his well-shaped ear. As she touched his cold ear, Sionne’s shoulder flinched.

“Your Grace.”

Sionne called Rosalyn as if to stop her persistent touch.

But contrary to his words, he leaned his face into her hand, closing his eyes deliberately.

“Why are you so lovely today? Do you want something?”

“Would you grant it if I did?”

Rosalyn chuckled at his bold question.

“There’s nothing I can’t grant. What’s the harm in being a pathetic grand duke captivated by beauty?”

Rosalyn looked at Sionne’s lips, indicating for him to speak.

“…No, Your Grace. I can’t bring disgrace to your reputation.”

But he only shook his head gently, smiling.

‘Again.’

Rosalyn felt a surge of annoyance. Her lover would act seductive at times, but he always kept his distance at critical moments.

It really bothered her. Deliberately, she pressed her hand harder, brushing Sionne’s ear.

“Fine, I’ll hear what you want in bed tonight.”

Rosalyn withdrew her hand after teasing him, her words intentionally mischievous, yet her demeanor was calm as she stepped back.

Sionne raised his hand to cover his ear. Just a few touches, and the cold wind felt even more biting.

‘Even if what I desire is your life… would you grant it?’

Sionne asked silently, staring at Rosalyn’s back as she walked ahead. He couldn’t voice it, so no answer came.

It was complicated. He certainly hated her when she was 28. But seeing her suddenly as a 21-year-old confused him.

“What are you doing, prince? Aren’t you coming?”

Rosalyn turned and called out to Sionne playfully.

Unfortunately, the title she used reminded Sionne of his fading resolve. He clenched and unclenched his fist, then spoke in a steady voice.

“No, I’m coming.”

Sionne Feitan, the last prince of the fallen kingdom of Feitan, sharpened his dulling hatred once more.

To be ready to strike at the woman’s vital point at any time.

* * *

Their relationship, filled with ambiguous intentions, began about a year ago.

“What is this? Can this even be called a victory parade?”

“Shh, are you out of your mind? Do you know where we are? Keep your voice down!”

Aaron, the youngest among the leaders of the conquest unit, grumbled. Jacob, beside him, reprimanded him in a low voice.

“Geez, you only nag at me.”

Aaron pouted his lips.

“You little…!”

Jacob’s voice grew slightly louder at Aaron’s childish behavior.

Rosalyn, who was walking at the front of the line, stopped. Her usually languid eyes turned sharp in an instant.

“Enough.”

At her irritated tone, both Aaron and Jacob immediately stopped their actions. They realized that Rosalyn was in a bad mood.

“Yes, we apologize.”

Aaron and Jacob quickly apologized and straightened their postures.

Rosalyn, after casting a warning glance at them, resumed walking. Following her, the Feitan conquest unit also started moving again.

Their footsteps echoed through the palace corridor.

‘Nothing has changed here in seven years.’

Rosalyn glared at various parts of the palace corridor, which remained exactly as she remembered. Unlike the peaceful comfort of the palace, her past seven years had been filled with death and desolation.

‘What could my half-brother be so dissatisfied about?’

Rosalyn’s conquest unit was returning after subjugating the Kingdom of Feitan, the second-largest nation on the continent after the Hernia Empire.

After seven long years of war, Hernia had taken complete control of the southern coastline. There was no country in the Western Continent that could rival the Empire now.

However, the victory parade was anything but grand.

The war hero, who should have ridden in a chariot pulled by four white horses, entered the capital on a single white horse.

The citizens, who should have thrown flowers and confetti, couldn’t even come out due to a curfew.

The quiet, shabby parade made it hard to tell whether it was a victorious army or a defeated one.

‘The costs of the seven-year war were too high to hold a grand parade, so understand it, war hero of the Empire.’

This was the official stance, and excuse, of Emperor Lucas of Hernia.

However, those in the know understood that this modest parade was a warning to war hero Princess Rosalyn.

“Ha…”

Rosalyn twisted her lips into a smile. Her half-brother was just as predictable as always. How tediously consistent he was.

The Hernia imperial family had always been known for its few heirs. This held true even in Rosalyn’s generation.

The first Empress’s son, Lucas. The daughter of the second Empress, Rosalyn.

The tragedy was that both were undoubtedly imperial blood and of the same age.

An heir and a bastard. They might have been the same age, but their births were vastly different.

When the first Empress died eleven years later, the situation changed completely. The mistress became the Empress, and the bastard became a princess.

The ‘bastard-born princess’ immediately jumped into the competition for the throne. The former Emperor had decreed that women could inherit the throne.

At some point, the princess surpassed the prince.

Partly because Lucas was ordinary, but also because Rosalyn was one of the most outstanding heirs in history. Her swordsmanship, especially, was unrivaled due to her martial lineage from her mother’s side.

Legitimacy and talent. The nobles of Hernia were divided between the two heirs.

Then, the second Empress passed away. At the same time, Rosalyn’s maternal family was annihilated for allegedly conspiring against the throne.

It was as if Rosalyn’s misfortunes were part of a well-written script, making Lucas the victor of the long-standing succession struggle.

Even after becoming Emperor, Lucas couldn’t shake off his inferiority complex and anxiety.

Ultimately, he started a war as soon as he ascended the throne and placed Rosalyn in the vanguard.

‘Die. Do not return alive.’

This was the indirect order given to 21-year-old Rosalyn.

But seven years later, she defiantly stood at the entrance of the victory parade.

“Inform the Emperor that I have arrived.”