Chapter 66
I Shouldn’t Have Grown Complacent
The women at the table turned their eyes to Ansi.
Truthfully, her departure worked in their favor. It was better to have one less recipient of the hunting spoils—fewer comparisons to draw.
“Oh dear, Ansi. Are you feeling unwell?”
Marianne expressed concern, though there was a trace of dissatisfaction in her tone. Unless Ansi was seriously ill, she wanted her to stay—after all, she had gone so far as to bring Damion along, someone she didn’t even like, just to highlight the contrast between Ansi and Bekishi. If Ansi left now, that effect would be weakened.
But Marianne wasn’t the most authoritative figure at the table.
“Go ahead, Ansi.”
Amelia gave her permission, casting a concerned gaze her way. With that, Ansi stood up. Marianne, realizing there was no stopping her now, added,
“Alright, Ansi. Get some rest. It’s not like we’re the ones doing the hunting.”
“Thank you.”
Ansi bowed her head and turned around.
As she brushed past the Empress, who had no idea what she was really up to, a tremble ran through Ansi’s gaze. But she quickly shoved away any sentimentality and hastened her steps.
The pained look on her face vanished the moment she was out of sight. Her expression flattened into indifference.
Perhaps by divine luck, she truly hadn’t felt well since the day before. Ansi had decided to take advantage of that.
She had deliberately applied makeup to emphasize her pallor and joined the tea party. Bekishi’s inquiry about her condition had gone just as expected.
There wasn’t much time. Ansi quickly made her way to the Emperor’s chambers in the main building. While the hallway leading there was restricted during his stay, as a member of House Orphee, she was granted access.
“The Empress asked me to retrieve something.”
The attendant bowed and stepped aside. Ansi strode down the hallway, pulling a note from her pocket.
11 o’clock, silver lion captured.
A fabricated message, as if it were some secret code. Its purpose was to suggest that the Emperor’s shooting had been orchestrated not by Ansi alone but in conspiracy with the Orphee family.
There was no one in the hallway. But before the hunt ended, the Emperor’s attendants would surely return to inspect the room.
Ansi tucked the note behind a decorative statue in the corner of the hall—dropped casually, as if by accident.
Concealed just enough not to be seen at a glance, but clearly visible to any loyal attendant searching the corridor.
With that task done, she moved on.
Her next destination: the Cardian armory, tucked behind the annex.
She pushed open a window she had unlocked in advance. It barely looked wide enough for a person, and she narrowed her eyes.
It was tighter than expected.
She placed her hands on the sill but then stopped to undo her skirt. The voluminous fabric fell away, revealing hunting pants beneath her summer blouse.
After tying up her hair, she took her father’s dog tag from her pocket and slung it around her neck. Then she slid through the window in one fluid motion.
Though many rifles lined the wall, she was after just one.
A gun that unmistakably belonged to Cardian—so that suspicion would naturally fall on him.
From deep within the armory, Ansi pulled out an ivory-colored rifle, its fine grain elegant and unmistakable. The magazine held three bullets. She took a few extra and tucked them into the pouch at her waist.
Everything was ready.
Ansi headed toward the forest, using a narrow path Cardian had shown her—one unlikely to be seen by others.
She had already walked the hunting grounds alone a few times, under the pretense of taking walks, and now knew enough to predict the Emperor’s route.
She found her spot.
It was a vantage point looking down on the path the Emperor would take. From where she crouched, the thick underbrush would keep her hidden.
Bang! Bang!
Gunfire rang out in the distance. Ansi flinched and shuddered.
“…It’s okay.”
She whispered to steady her breath, though anxiety coiled tight around her body. Her palms were damp with sweat. Had she not worn gloves, she might not have been able to hold the rifle properly.
Ansi swallowed dryly. Her heart pounded so fiercely it drowned out everything else.
Suddenly, she remembered the warmth of Damion’s arms around her the previous night. The way he looked at her with such affection.
Was it really wrong… to settle for that?
The foolish thought struck her.
Smack!
Ansi slapped her own cheek. The sharp sting spread across her face. She clenched her father’s dog tag tightly.
Because of Cardian d’Orphée, her father… her brother… had met their ends. She and her mother had been ruined.
She had to destroy Orphee. That was the only reason she had to live.
And now, the plan was complete.
A hunting event prepared by House Orphee, with Orphee members participating.
Revolutionaries funded under the Orphee name, repeatedly.
Her assassination attempt on the Emperor—backed by clear evidence that implicated the entire Orphee family.
Yes, she could never afford to grow complacent.
Just then—
“…!”
Emperor Ludkaos came into view. His silver hair gleamed at the front of the hunting party. The men followed behind, and a bit farther back, journalists were present to cover the event.
Perfect witnesses to Orphee’s treachery.
But then, Ansi narrowed her eyes.
‘Damion’s not there.’
He should’ve been among the group—but he wasn’t.
Unease mixed with confusion filled her mind.
Still, she couldn’t miss this opportunity.
Ansi raised her gun and took aim. The barrel aligned with the Emperor’s shoulder. Through the scope, he was squarely in her sights.
She just had to pull the trigger…
“Ansi!”
A sharp, low voice filled with restrained fury interrupted her—and in an instant, the gun was torn from her hands.
Ansi turned her head.
“…Damion.”
He stared at her, face twisted with emotion.
Earlier, not long after the hunt had begun, Damion had downed a bird with a clean shot. He made an unusual request of the Emperor.
“You want to deliver it yourself?”
Ludkaos arched a brow. Damion nodded.
“It’s my first hunt since our wedding. I want to show off my catch to my wife.”
Normally, the hounds retrieved the game, and the attendants laid it at the feet of the noble ladies. But Damion insisted on doing it himself.
“That’s a bit much. What will His Majesty think?” Bashiroff tried to dissuade him. Even Cardian looked annoyed.
But Ludkaos laughed and nodded toward the fallen bird.
“Go on, then. You’re newlyweds—I get it.”
The other nobles chuckled, thinking it just youthful enthusiasm.
An attendant packed the bird into the pouch on Damion’s saddle, and he turned his horse.
But truthfully, he wasn’t going back to show off.
He was worried about Ansi.
She hadn’t looked well the day before, and he hadn’t been able to shake the image of her pale face. It felt like she was weighed down by something more than just illness.
A gut instinct told him he needed to see her—now.
“You, what are you doing here?”
“Where is Ansi?”
Damion answered Marianne’s question with one of his own. He scanned the tea party again and again, but Ansi was nowhere to be found.
“She left early. Said she wasn’t feeling well.”
“Was it serious?”
Damion’s worried tone offended Marianne, especially since he ignored her own concern and only fixated on his wife.
“You could go ask her yourself, can’t you? She just went insi—”
Before she could finish, Damion had already turned and was galloping toward the main building.
“Hmph. Our duke takes after his father. Treasures his wife more than anything. As Damion’s mother, I suppose it stings, but as a woman… Ansi must be thrilled.”
Marianne smiled blandly. The other ladies, gauging the mood, quickly joined in with their laughter.
Meanwhile, Damion burst into the main hall.
Ansi was strict and upright, but she never avoided these events. If anything, she’d looked forward to this hunt.
How unwell must she be to leave halfway?
As he entered the large central lobby, ready to head to their room, he sensed a presence elsewhere and instinctively turned.
It was the path to the Emperor’s chambers—and Ansi was there.
“….”
Damion approached her silently. He raised a finger to his lips when a startled attendant tried to greet him.
At first, it was simple curiosity.
He just wanted to know why Ansi was headed there. He wanted to watch her, nothing more.
But from around the corner, what he saw… was strange.
Ansi’s face was taut with more than pain—it was tension. He watched as she pulled something out and hid it behind a statue.
Damion’s brow furrowed deeper and deeper.
