TQSR 01

Chapter : 01

Prologue

The man spoke those words just after she had aimed at her target.

“Choose me.”

“For what?”

She had resolved that nothing he said would shake her.

Yet the man’s next words surpassed anything she could have imagined.

“As your king consort.”

Bang—!

A gunshot rang out.

Once again, her bullet missed the target.

But Lethe was far more shocked by what she had just heard.

She turned toward the man, her face stiff with disbelief.

The blond hair she had once thought resembled a crown was particularly striking.

Between his thick eyebrows sat a high, straight nose, its smooth bridge flowing into the tip as though it had been painstakingly sculpted by a master craftsman.

His two clear blue eyes, as blue as the cloudless sky, stared directly at her.

“Take me as your king consort.”

His low voice was frighteningly calm, making it difficult to discern the emotions hidden within it.

—Crash!

For a moment, a sharp sound seemed to ride the wind like a hallucination.

Come to think of it, it had been like that back then, too.

A terrifyingly clear sky.

A man standing beneath it like a figure in a painting.

His indifferent expression.

His calm voice…

And herself lying collapsed before him.

For an instant, Lethe felt as though she had returned to the past.

To the day Alben Abihi had killed her.

Arvey Kingdom, Year 327.

Just before the death of Lethe Arvey, King of Arvey, she had been alone with Alben Abihi.

People said there were two kings in the Kingdom of Arvey.

One was a king in name only, acknowledged by neither the nobles nor the people.

A princess who had become a hostage of an enemy nation at the age of ten had returned twelve years later and ascended the throne. No one was willing to recognize her as their ruler.

Instead, the one actually governing the country in her place was the young head of House Abihi.

Alben Abihi.

At thirty-seven, he was a young duke who had completely seized control of all the money, power, and information in Arvey. In truth, he was known as a nobleman who stood above the king.

Unlike Lethe, he was recognized by everyone.

He was the true master of the country.

And yet, that very man had betrayed his nation.

“Why don’t you try making an excuse?”

Instead of dessert, a bundle of letters had been placed on the tea table.

They were letters exchanged between Alben and the Emperor of the Cornelli Empire.

“Did you really sell the people of this kingdom as slaves to another country?”

Her voice trembled as she struggled to suppress her anger.

She couldn’t understand it.

She couldn’t forgive it.

She knew how much the people of this country trusted and followed him.

Whenever House Abihi announced that it was recruiting soldiers, countless people volunteered, even those with infirm bodies.

And Alben Abihi had sold those very people into slavery in a foreign land.

“Answer me.”

“Does my answer really matter? You brought the evidence with you.”

His voice was unbearably calm as he looked at the bundle of letters.

There wasn’t even the slightest trace of guilt in his voice.

Lethe’s hand trembled.

The teacup she was gripping tightly rattled.

If she stayed like this, she felt she might throw the tea into his face.

I have to endure it for now.

She needed to find out where they had been sold and how many there were.

Only then could she bring every last one of them back to Arvey.

Of all people, she knew better than anyone how painful it was to suffer persecution in a foreign land.

She could never allow even one of her people to live as a slave in another country.

Instead of throwing the teacup at Alben Abihi, Lethe brought it to her lips.

The tea was lukewarm, despite having only just been brewed.

That immediately told her who had prepared it.

It was the work of the maid who had remained by Lethe’s side throughout her twelve years as a hostage.

She must have done it out of consideration for Lethe, who couldn’t tolerate hot food or drinks very well.

“Where did you sell them?”

“It seems that part wasn’t written in the letters.”

“Where did you sell them? How many?”

At her sharp questions, Alben Abihi gave a faint chuckle.

At that moment, sunlight streamed across his face, making him look as though he had stepped out of a masterpiece.

A man as beautiful as an angel.

And yet, there was undoubtedly a devil hidden inside him.

Otherwise, how could he possibly have done something like this?

“Your Majesty.”

The devil wearing an angel’s mask whispered in a low voice, as though sharing a secret.

“The Valtarsan Earl Grey you so enjoy is famous for its exceptionally clear color and distinctive aroma, making it impossible to mix with other teas without noticing.”

Crash!

He dropped his teacup onto the ground.

Unlike hers, the tea inside was still steaming as it spilled across the grass.

“Thanks to that, I had quite a difficult time.”

“What…? Guh!”

In an instant, red blood splattered across the table.

A pain she had never experienced before tore through Lethe’s body.

She twisted desperately from side to side before finally collapsing onto the ground like the shattered teacup.

Her insides felt as though they had been turned into a swamp and set ablaze.

She gritted her teeth against the agony.

“Guh… ngh… huuk…”

“Your Majesty.”

His calm voice was completely at odds with her desperate cries.

She conserved what little strength remained to her, glaring viciously upward.

“Al… ben… Abihi…”

He lowered himself onto one knee until their eyes were level.

His blond hair, as though made from melted gold, glittered conspicuously beneath the cloudless summer sun.

His handsome face, composed of delicate, perfectly proportioned features, was as clean and noble as ever.

It was a stark contrast to Lethe, who was crawling helplessly across the ground.

His strong, calloused hand gently caressed her cheek.

The touch seemed almost sympathetic.

“I told you, didn’t I? To stay still.”

Yet, unlike his gentle touch, his expression as he looked at her was excessively indifferent.

“If you had listened to my advice, at least your life would have been spared. Instead, you hastened your own death.”

“Betrayer… I don’t… need… to beg… for my life… from… you…”

She had no intention of begging anyone—least of all a traitor—for her life.

At her words, the hand stroking her cheek stopped.

Then it roughly grabbed her hair.

The vocal cords that had just exhausted their usefulness could produce nothing resembling a scream, only ragged breaths.

Every time she exhaled, it felt as though another fragment of her life was escaping.

Watching her, Alben suddenly leaned his face toward hers.

They were close enough that their lips could have touched.

Lethe desperately tried to turn her powerless head away.

That lunatic.

She couldn’t even begin to guess how much further he intended to humiliate her.

His soft breath mingled with hers at point-blank range, unpleasantly vivid against her skin.

Unlike her own hurried, ragged breaths, his were warm and unhurried, as relaxed as their owner.

Lethe desperately struggled to control her trembling body, which no longer obeyed her.

Contrary to her fears, Alben did nothing.

He merely let his indifferent gaze wander across her face.

It was as though he were simply observing her as she died.

She glared back at him with venomous hatred.

When her breathing had become so faint that it could grow no weaker, he finally spoke.

“I will protect this country, so don’t worry.”

With those words, he rose to his feet.

Alben had uttered a lie without changing his expression.

As though he no longer had even the slightest attachment to her, he turned his back on her.

Lethe’s limp body fell onto the grass.

With bloodshot eyes, she stared at the man’s back as he gradually walked away.

What a ridiculous thing to say.

Someone who claimed he would protect the country had not only sold his own people into slavery in foreign lands, but had also committed treason.

If she died here, the fate of her country, Arvey, was painfully obvious.

Burning the last of her life, she raised the weapon she habitually carried and aimed it at Alben.

There was no hesitation in her movements.

She had no time.

Click. Bang—!

“Urgh!”

Caught completely off guard by the sudden attack, Alben’s body crumpled.

It seemed she had shot him in one leg.

Meanwhile, the recoil was too much for Lethe to withstand, and the gun slipped from her hand.

“Haa…”

A sigh escaped her like a lament of regret.

She knew without even looking.

She hadn’t killed Alben.

She had failed to protect Arvey until the very end.

The frustration and resentment were unbearable.

Even as her vision gradually blurred and everything around her began to fade, she couldn’t take her eyes off Alben.

Not until she breathed her final breath.

Once again, Year 317 of the Kingdom Era.

The closer they drew to the capital, the more subdued the atmosphere among the Arvey Kingdom Knights became.

Vice-Captain Hersel moved closer to Jeff, the captain of the knights, and whispered.

“Captain, we can’t secretly abandon our new queen and leave her behind, can we?”

“You say something so disrespectful without even batting an eye.”

“But if we take the queen to the capital, there’ll be bloodshed. She spent more of her life in the Empire than in the kingdom, didn’t she?”

“Even so, she is the ruler we must serve.”

His answer was stubborn to the point of frustration.

“Still… She can barely remember anything about the kingdom beyond the age of ten. Besides, the Empire and the kingdom are very different. I wonder if she’ll even be able to adapt to a country she hasn’t seen in twelve years…”

A murderous glare flew toward Hersel from Jeff.

Hersel immediately shut his mouth and increased the distance between them.

Seeing that, Jeff clicked his tongue.

Twelve years ago, the war between the Cornelli Empire and the Kingdom of Arvey had ended in the kingdom’s complete defeat.

The kingdom had been saddled with enormous reparations.

Then, when the crown prince—the heir to the throne—fell gravely ill and died, the youngest princess naturally became the heir to the throne.

Perhaps if the princess hadn’t been taken hostage by the Empire, the people of the kingdom wouldn’t have been so anxious.

The twenty-two-year-old princess, who had learned everything from the Empire—from education and culture to even basic etiquette—became the King of Arvey following the previous king’s death.

Upon hearing the news, the people spoke with one voice.

The new queen will ruin Arvey.

There was no way the knights tasked with bringing such a queen back to their homeland could feel lighthearted about the journey.

They almost wished they would get lost along the way.

Unfortunately, the walls of the capital had begun to appear in the distance.

Knight Captain Jeff brought his horse alongside the carriage.

“We’ll be at the capital soon.”

Since she hadn’t said a word throughout the entire journey, he expected no response this time either.

But contrary to his expectations, a voice came from inside.

“Jeff?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Is there something you need?”

At that moment, the carriage window opened.

The curtains were still drawn, so the queen herself remained hidden from view.

He waited tensely for her next words.

“Bring me the flag.”

Her beautiful, melodious voice drifted from behind the curtain.

It wasn’t the stiff accent characteristic of the Empire.

It was the perfect accent of the Kingdom of Arvey.

“Pardon? Ah, the flag. Hersel! Bring the flag!”

Confused by the queen’s somewhat unexpected request, Jeff quickly recovered and shouted.

Hersel was just as bewildered by her demand.

Already displeased with the queen, Vice-Captain Hersel grumbled as he went to fetch the flag.

Thinking that she wouldn’t be able to see it anyway because of the curtains, he thrust the flag toward the carriage without even offering a proper greeting.

At that moment, swish!

The closed curtains were pulled open.

Both Vice-Captain Hersel and even Jeff drew in a sharp breath.

From inside the carriage, a delicate, white hand emerged, pale and beautiful like a magnolia blossom.

The hand grasped the flag.

Afraid she might accidentally drop it, Hersel hurriedly steadied the flagpole.

“Arvey…”

Her voice trembled.

It was a voice that made the listener’s heart ache.

Yet her eyes remained fixed upon the flag without the slightest trace of wavering.

“I’ve come back.”

My kingdom. My country, Arvey.