TRETTHD 01

1. The End and the Beginning

Inside a lavish and antique room.

Belia stared blankly out the window, waiting for someone she knew would soon arrive.

As expected, the bedroom door burst open with a loud noise not long after.

Amid the murmurs of the maids, a man with a cold expression strode in without hesitation.

“Empress.”

Even at the sound of him calling her, Belia didn’t turn around.

The man frowned at her attitude, displeased, but soon shrugged and sat down across from her with a frosty smile.

“No matter how unwell you may be, isn’t it too much to treat the Emperor of an entire nation this way?”

He spoke in a friendly, almost affectionate tone, like someone whining to a lover. Belia nearly burst into laughter at the absurdity.

“Too much?”
For what, exactly?

The man who had taken everything from her had no right to say such things.

“Just say what you came to say.”

“……”

“There’s no need for your ridiculous theatrics in front of me.”

“Ha, fine.”

The Emperor let out a hollow sigh and rang the bell on the table.

Immediately, the maids came in and swiftly prepared tea. The snacks and fragrant black tea were the very ones she’d once told him she liked long ago.

“Let’s at least enjoy some tea together.”

When the Emperor poured the tea and made that suggestion, Belia let out a loud laugh as if he’d told her the most ridiculous joke.

“…Why are you laughing?”

“Because I’m wondering if I heard you right, Your Majesty.”

It had been eight years since Belia entered the palace as Empress.

In all that time, they’d shared tea together only twice.

She had accepted his coldness, rationalized it—he was busy, after all. He was the Emperor.

She told herself it couldn’t be helped.
That he loved her. That this situation wasn’t what he wanted either.

‘…I was such a fool.’

Then the Emperor extended a teacup to her.

“Drink it.”

“No.”

“You must drink this.”

At the sound of his lowered voice, Belia realized something and asked with effort:

“Is it poison?”

The Emperor didn’t answer.

But Belia was certain. That single cup of tea had been prepared to kill her.

“Did you really have to take everything from me? How cruel can you be!”

“I’ll spare your one and only brother. And I swear not to touch your kingdom any further. So please, drink it yourself.”

Belia bit her lip to swallow back the surge of emotion.

But she couldn’t suppress the despair. Her voice tore out:

“Lies!”

She swept the cups and dishes off the table. The shattering porcelain echoed across the room.

“Did you think I wouldn’t know my brother died on the battlefield?!”

Her clenched fists trembled.

She couldn’t control her rage.

Her father. Her mother. Her brother. Even her younger sibling. The Emperor had killed them all. He had destroyed her homeland.

And now he had the gall to look her in the eye and lie.

“Ha… If you already know everything, this will be quick.”

The Emperor brushed back his hair with a sigh and waved to the maids. New tea and refreshments were brought out again.

“Please die now, Belia.”

He gestured to the cup in front of her.

His face was devoid of even pity. He looked at her the way one discards something useless and broken.

This was who he truly was.

Why had she been deceived by his words and gestures? Why had she ruined everything?

Every moment spent with the Emperor now filled her with regret.

Now, she had nothing left.

“……”

There was no lingering desire to cling to this hellish life.

But if she disappeared too, what would become of the Kingdom of Ronica?

As its last royal, she couldn’t allow it to end this way. No matter how pitiful, how disgraceful—it was her duty to survive.

Staring at the cup the Emperor offered, Belia held on.

But the Emperor didn’t want to waste time.

He stood up and walked over, grabbing her jaw with a rough hand devoid of affection.

Then he poured the contents of the cup into her mouth.

“Mmph!!”

“Drink.”

His voice was flat and emotionless.

“Mmmph!!”

She shook her head, but he gripped her face harder, forcing every drop into her mouth.

“Gah!”

As the Emperor set the empty cup down on the table, the poison coursed through her like fire.

Her insides twisted with searing pain, like her stomach was being torn apart.

She clenched her fists so hard her nails dug into her palms and drew blood.

But soon something welled up in her throat.

“Cough!”

She covered her mouth, but dark blood seeped through her pale fingers.

“Thank you, Belia. You strengthened the Empire.”

The Emperor spoke with icy eyes as she lay dying.

“But history will remember you as the wicked woman who seduced me and handed over her kingdom, while Erze will remain the wise and benevolent Empress who led the Empire to prosperity.”

Erze… Erze!

Belia felt completely shattered.

Her heart was crushed down to the very last.

The beloved Erze, the one he adored, would laugh like a flower and live a life filled with love from both the Emperor and the people.

While Belia, who gave everything and endured it all, would die as a villainess and have her life erased.

Why?

Wasn’t he the one who clung to her, claiming to love her?

Why did only she have to die like this—wronged and abandoned?

A single clear, sorrowful tear rolled down from Belia’s bloodshot eyes.

As the Emperor turned to leave, unmoved, she whispered:

“…Emperor, I curse you.”

Collapsed on the floor, unable to support herself, she shouted:

“I curse the time I loved you! I curse you who destroyed my country and murdered my family!”

The Emperor slowly approached her writhing figure.

“…Belia. The more you resist, the more it’ll hurt.”

His voice sounded gentle—but it was mockery.

Belia tried to lift herself again. She couldn’t die like this.

But her poisoned body gave out, collapsing once more.

The Emperor looked down at her with indifferent eyes.

“You will never… live a peaceful life… Even in death, my grudge will drag you into misery…”

Even as she vomited blood, Belia continued her curse.

“Your future… will be filled with suffering…”

“Tch. Pathetic.”

If only she could go back in time. She would never—

“…Love you…”

No more words came from Belia.

The Emperor, wiping the tea from his hand with a look of disgust, muttered:

“Ugh. I spilled tea on the carpet. Clean this mess up.”

Then he lightly kicked the dead Empress with his foot and walked out of the room without a second thought.

* * *

“You’ll catch a cold sleeping out here.”

Belia squinted at the sunlight and opened her eyes.

Before her, wearing a gentle expression, was the Emperor—checking her forehead tenderly.

…What?

‘I should be dead…’

Why was he, the man who had handed her poison, acting like this?

Goosebumps rose on her arm.

“The wind is still chilly. But you don’t have a fever, thankfully.”

Belia slapped his hand away coldly.

The sound echoed, loud and sharp.

The Emperor flinched in surprise but soon chuckled awkwardly.

“It seems my efforts still aren’t enough.”

“……”

What was going on?

What was he plotting?

There wasn’t enough information to know yet.

Why had she been on the verge of death, only to wake up in a garden?

Why was he being so affectionate?

“I’ll try harder.”

“…Why?”

“Haha. I’ve fallen for you, Princess Belia. Please, open your heart to me.”

Princess?

Belia looked around.

The scenery was familiar. Warm. Peaceful.

This was the Kingdom of Ronica.

The very royal garden she had loved so dearly.

“My feelings for you are true. So please—”

Belia didn’t answer.

Her heart pounded.

She stood up abruptly and ran down a familiar path—to her room.

Not the cold, desolate palace of the Empress, but the warm embrace of her family.

‘This… this can’t be real.’

She rushed into the castle. Familiar faces greeted her with smiles.

“Princess! Did you fall asleep in the garden again?!”

“Princess Belia!”

Even the maids who had perished in the palace fire.

“Sister! Where were you?! Father was looking for you!”

“Cloze…”

Her sister, who had ended her own life.

“Belia. The First Prince visited again today.”

Her brother, who died on the battlefield.

“You seem distracted. Did the prince offend you?”

“No, no…”

Tears welled up.

They were all alive.

‘What is going on? A dream?’

Belia pinched her cheek.

“Ow…”

It stung.

“Why’d you pinch yourself?!”

“It hurts…”

The pain confirmed this was real.

Tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Huh? Are you crying?!”

“Hic…”

Cloze wiped Belia’s tears, worried. Her brother ran over.

“Did the prince mistreat you? Hm?”

“Sis, what happened? Why are you crying? Don’t cry…”

Belia wiped her eyes and looked at the faces she had missed so terribly.

“I’m sorry… hic… It’s all my fault…”

Because she had chosen him—this beautiful, peaceful life was destroyed.

“What are you talking about? Did you eat my pudding?”

“Did you have a nightmare?”

A nightmare. Yes—it had been a horrific nightmare.

‘I’ve gone back…’

Back to when she was still Princess Belia of Ronica—not the Empress of the Empire.

“You look pale. I’ll tell Father you’re unwell. Go rest.”

Her brother’s gentle touch calmed her tears.

‘This isn’t a dream. I really came back.’

Back to before she fell in love with the Emperor.

Back to when he pursued her, clinging and earnest.

“Princess Belia!”

The Emperor called out as he followed her. No—he was still the First Prince.

Even as he looked at her with kind eyes, Belia felt only hatred and contempt.

Her love for him was long gone. This time, she would never choose him.

‘…This is a chance.’

She didn’t know why she had returned, but she was going to return everything—every bit of pain he gave her.

Belia looked coldly at the concerned prince.

‘So now… prepare to fall. Completely and utterly.’

The curse had only just begun.