eiser perspective
The heavy, ornate doors of the manor had barely clicked shut before the tension in the room ruptured.
The envoy, a man whose tailored suit couldn't hide the snide complacency radiating from his posture, barely managed to smooth his lapels before a hand like a iron vice slammed him against the wall. The sound of the impact-a sharp, violent *crack*-echoed through the vaulted hallway.
"First of all, the Prime Minister..." The envoy's voice hitched, choking on the sudden lack of air as his collar was wrenched tight. He tried to maintain his practiced, bureaucratic composure, but his eyes widened with a flash of genuine panic. "...wishes to express his deepest regret over your wife's condition."
"Calm down," the older official added from a safe distance, raising two fingers in a dismissive, placating gesture. Armed guards, stationed by force, stood like monolithic shadows in the background-a blatant display of intimidation masquerading as protective detail.
The grip on the envoy's collar only tightened, veins straining against the younger man's knuckles. The fury rolling off him was palpable, a silent, suffocating heat.
"What exactly have you been doing to let someone end up in this condition?" His voice was a dangerous, low growl, vibrating with an agony he refused to let them see. "Every time I asked about her health, you insisted she was stable."
The envoy swallowed hard, his hands futilely gripping the wrist of the man holding him captive.
"And now you send her back because treatment is no longer possible?" The accusation cut through the room like a blade. "That sounds like nothing but an excuse to dodge responsibility."
In the shadows of the high-backed chairs, the true architecture of the plot became sickeningly clear. *Despicable bastards. The Prime Minister planned this from the very beginning.*
It was a masterclass in political cowardice. To halt the impending trial and suppress a scandal that would ruin them, they had cornered Serena until the very last moment. Then, under the pious guise of 'protecting' her, they orchestrated her transfer back to the manor at this exact, calculated time. If Serena's worsening condition had deteriorated further while trapped inside a government detention cell, the fallout would have exploded into a massive, uncontrollable public scandal.
By dumping her back into her husband's arms, they washed their hands of the blood. *In the end, this is nothing more than a way to avoid responsibility. And yet they still dare to call it mercy?*
"I deeply regret that your wife's condition has worsened," the envoy choked out, attempting to read from the mental script his masters had given him. He tried to leverage his posture, staring down at the polished floorboards. "However, this transfer was made with your wife's safety and recovery as the highest priority. So please do not misunderstand the intent behind this decision."
The grip didn't loosen. If anything, the air grew colder.
"Are you seriously calling that..."
Before the furious response could finish, the envoy reached into his breast pocket with a trembling hand, pulling out a crisp, sealed parchment.
"...This is the negotiation document sent by the Prime Minister."
## The Audacity of Directives
"Are you seriously calling that..."
The words tasted like ash in Eiser's mouth. He let his hand drop from the envoy's crumpled collar, his chest heaving with a fury he had to force beneath a freezing exterior.
The older official didn't lose his composure for long. Smoothly adjusting his silk tie with two fingers, he offered a look that was entirely devoid of warmth, yet dripping with simulated pity. He extended a heavy, dark leather portfolio embossed with the golden crest of the kingdom.
"This is the negotiation document sent by the Prime Minister," the official stated, his voice flat and architectural.
*Negotiation.* Eiser's mind snarled at the word. It wasn't a negotiation; it was an execution disguised as bureaucracy.
"The Kingdom previously accepted the Serenity family's petition," the official continued, pacing slowly, his leather shoes clicking against the pristine floorboards. "And granted them the opportunity for a fair trial. You are also aware that this trial is the family's only chance to prove their innocence."
Eiser's gaze flicked involuntarily toward the heavy curtained archway leading to the inner room. Through the gap, he could see the faint, fragile silhouette of Serena lying beneath the covers. She was pale, unresponsive, and utterly broken by the detention cell they had thrown her into. They had brought her back not out of mercy, but because they were terrified she would die on their watch and turn her into a martyr.
## The Trap
"Therefore, regardless of the circumstances, no further delays will be permitted," the official's voice dragged Eiser back to the immediate threat. "Since your wife's condition also makes it difficult for her to continue with any further proceedings, the kingdom has no desire to prolong this matter with unnecessary exhaustion or confusion."
Eiser took the parchment from the envelope. The paper was thick, expensive, and heavy with the scent of state-sanctioned ruin. His eyes scanned the crisp, black ink.
**Admission of Treason.**
**Surrender of all assets held under the Serenity name.**
They wanted everything. The history, the wealth, the land, and the legacy. They had backed Serena into a corner until she collapsed, and now they were using her failing health as the ultimate leverage.
"Therefore," the official murmured, watching Eiser's face for any sign of cracking, "the kingdom intends to conclude everything through an admission of treason and the surrender of all assets held under the family's name. All it takes is a single signature from Mr. Eiser Grayan, and every procedure will be finalized."
The man made it sound so simple. A stroke of a pen to erase generations of honor.
## The Price of a Life
"The guards stationed at the manor will be withdrawn immediately," the official bartered, offering the terms like a merchant selling scraps. "And the order to return Miss Serena to detention will also be revoked. Every dispute surrounding the Serenity family will finally come to an end without further trouble."
Eiser gripped the document, his knuckles turning stark white. His muscles tensed under his crisp white shirt, his jaw tightening so hard it ached. He knew the game they were playing. If he signed, they won everything without ever having to step foot in a courtroom where their own corruption might be exposed. If he didn't... they would drag Serena back to a cold stone cell, and she wouldn't survive another week.
The official offered one final, condescending tilt of his head, fixing his cuffs with absolute finality.
"Normally, treason is punishable by death based on suspicion alone," he reminded Eiser, his tone dropping into a chillingly quiet register. "However, in recognition of the Serenity family's contributions to the kingdom, we are offering an opportunity to spare your wife's life."
Eiser looked down at the empty signature line. The kingdom was holding a knife to Serena's throat and calling it an act of grace.
The official adjusted his tie with agonizing precision, the rhythmic click of his fingers against the silk a sickening contrast to the weight of his words.
"Normally, treason is punishable by death based on suspicion alone," he stated, his voice a smooth, dead expanse. He adjusted his collar, looking down his nose at me with a gaze completely devoid of warmth.
"However, in recognition of the Serenity family's contributions to the kingdom, we are offering an opportunity to spare your wife's life."
He was proud of this leverage. He wore it like a custom-tailored suit.
"However," he continued, his tone shifting into something sharper, more transactional, "I have been informed that your, Mr. Eiser Grayan, authority... to sign on Miss Serena's behalf expires today."
The heavy gold pocket watch slid from his vest, dangling like a pendulum from its chain. *Tick. Tick.* The sound echoed in the cavernous room, counting down the seconds of Serena's freedom. He held it up, letting the light catch the polished metal face.
"I sincerely hope you make the wisest decision before then."
## The Weight of the Pen
I stood frozen, the parchment heavy and abrasive against my skin. The official's footsteps retreated across the tiled floor, a hollow, rhythmic sound that faded into the distance, leaving me alone in the suffocating silence.
In the end, this was no different from trading Serenity to the kingdom in exchange for Serena's life.
It was a trap of absolute design. A choice that saves Serena, while destroying her at the same time.
If I signed this document, I would save her physical body from the rot of their detention cells. I would keep her heart beating. But I would also be stripping away the very thing that gave her purpose. The Serenity estate, the legacy, the bloodline-it was her entire identity.
A choice she, who valued her family above her own life, never would have accepted.
If Serena were standing here, pale and bleeding, she would spit in his face before signing away her birthright. She would choose a proud death over a hollow, defeated survival.
## The Cold Resolve
But because of that...
I gripped the edge of the paper, my knuckles turning white, my veins pulsing with a dark, freezing rage. My eyes locked onto the black ink of the ultimatum.
It's a choice that I, who am not she, can make.
Let her hate me. Let her wake up in a world where her legacy has been stripped away and blame me for the loss. I could bear her resentment. I could survive her fury. What I couldn't survive was her corpse.
Now that Dustin is dead, even the last way to negotiate with the Prime Minister is gone. There were no more hidden cards to play. No brilliant political maneuvers left on the board. The kingdom had taken away every variable until only this binary, brutal choice remained.
I looked down at the empty signature line. I would sign it. I would give them their victory, and I would pull her from the jaws of their executioner-even if she broke herself trying to fight me for it.
The parchment felt heavy in my hand, the crisp corners biting into my palm. If I refuse to sign, they'll drag Serena, who has no one left, back into that detention cell.
The kingdom didn't want justice. They wanted a quiet, absolute surrender, and they were perfectly content to use her failing health as a grinding stone. Then they'll slowly destroy her, using a trial that will never happen as an excuse. They would drag out the bureaucracy, postpone the dates, and tie up the paperwork until there was nothing left of her but an empty shell.
## The Reality Beyond the Door
From the slightly ajar doorway of the inner room, a frantic whispering cut through the heavy silence of the corridor. It was the maid, her voice trembling and breathless with panic.
"Is it really... really that bad? She's become so thin..."
"Please... please save Lady Serena. I'm so scared."
I didn't turn around, but my jaw clenched tightly. Every murmur from the servants was a reminder of how little time we had. The doctor's leather bag clicked open, the cold glass of medicine vials rattling as she worked. Her voice was taut, laced with a grim professionalism that only confirmed my worst fears.
"There's no way she showed no symptoms until her condition became this severe," the doctor muttered, her tone dripping with quiet outrage. "It can only mean she never received proper treatment inside the detention cell."
A sharp gasp came from the maid. "And what happened to her feet?"
"Nothing terrible is going to happen to Lady Serena, right? She'll recover as soon as she gets proper treatment, right? Right?"
The silence that followed was suffocating. I could hear the rustle of the doctor's medical gloves as she lifted a small, amber vial against the light.
"Right now, treatment isn't the priority," the doctor stated bluntly, shattering the maid's desperate optimism. "Her body simply has to survive long enough to recover. She's severely weakened. In her current state, we can't even administer strong medication."
The doctor shook her head, her face grim beneath the dim lights. "So for now, all we can do is monitor her condition while continuing treatment..."
## A Ghost from the Past
*Monitor her condition.*
The phrase echoed in my mind, cold and hollow. Servants blurred past me in the hallway, carrying basins of warm water and fresh linens, their movements a frantic haze around me. But I remained perfectly still, trapped in a sudden, suffocating memory.
It's the image of my mother.
The correlation hit me with the force of a physical blow. The pale, translucent skin, the rapid decline, the utter helplessness of watching someone slip away while powerful men calculated their next move.
Just like the day she returned from the Royal Palace after being falsely accused.
I remembered standing as a young boy, looking up at her. A face drained of all life, and lips that had completely lost their color. The palace had broken her, stripped her of her dignity under the guise of an investigation, and returned her to us as a ghost. I had promised myself I would never stand by and watch that happen again. I had built my walls, accumulated my power, and calculated every risk to ensure I would never be that helpless boy again.
Yet, here I was.
Just like that, in the end...
I looked down at the document in my hands, the kingdom's seal staring back at me like a mocking eye. Every defense I had constructed, every strategic piece I had meticulously moved across the political board-it had all led to this exact trap.
She became the final red stone I placed on the pile.
I looked down at the documents, the cold finality of the situation resting in the palm of my hand.
Just like that, in the end...
She became the final red stone I placed on the pile. It was a crushing burden, the definitive sacrifice added to an already fracturing foundation-the ultimate weight that completely forced my hand. I was no longer playing a game of strategy; I was simply reacting to the threat against her life.
## A Forgotten Lesson
My mind cast back to an old memory, a sharp conversation under the vaulted ceilings of the estate.
She said something to me once. We had stood face-to-face on the grand staircase, her violet eyes flashing with that unyielding, stubborn pride that defined the Serenity line.
She had looked straight at me and told me that the strength to protect a family until the very end comes from love. And then, with that stinging candor of hers, she added that I, who lacked that heart, could never protect this place as well as she.
Back then, I couldn't help but laugh at those words. Even though she couldn't stop this family from falling apart, I dismissed it as the naive arrogance of a child. I believed in leverage. I believed in cold, hard numbers, contracts, and calculated moves. I thought her reliance on sentiment was a weakness that would eventually ruin her.
## The Reluctant Truth
I stared blankly into the quiet expanse of the room, the dim light filtering through the massive windows.
She was right.
The epiphany left a bitter taste in my mouth. My hands clenched into tight fists at my sides as I stood before the desk. The very logic I had used to guard myself had crumbled under the simple, terrifying reality of her suffering.
The moment she became more important than this family, I lost the ability to protect this place.
I looked down at the royal ultimatum resting on the marble surface. By signing it, I was dismantling everything I had worked to preserve. I was letting the Serenity estate fall. But the calculation had changed, entirely rewritten by a force I had spent years trying to ignore.
Because the only thing I ever loved here... was her.
The fountain pen felt incredibly heavy in my hand, its ornate, shimmering casing catching the dim light of the study. Beneath it lay the document that would seal everything-an irreversible choice.
I knew the consequences. If I pressed this nib to the paper and signed my name, it would set a cascade of events into motion that would inevitably tear her world apart. My actions, my identity, the very name I carried would become the instrument of her destruction. She would look at the aftermath, see my signature, and hate me for it. She would likely spend the rest of her life loathing the very ground I walked on, cursing the day our paths crossed.
But as I looked down at the official seal, none of that mattered. Let her hate me. Let her curse my name until her last breath. I still couldn't give up on her life. If the price of keeping her breathing was becoming the villain in her story, it was a price I would pay a thousand times over.
Because in reality, through all the calculations, the cold masks, and the bitter history of this place... the only thing I ever loved here was her.
A soft rustle of fabric cut through the heavy silence of the room.
author perspective
The rhythmic, gentle *tap-tap* of low heels echoed against the marble floor as the sheer white curtains swayed in the gentle breeze. Serena stepped out onto the sunlit terrace, her violet eyes wide with a sudden, breathless shock.
She looked past the shifting drapes toward the elegant iron chair overlooking the estate gardens. A man sat there, bathed in the bright morning light, a teacup resting on the table beside him.
"Who is it...?" she whispered to herself, her voice trembling, her mind struggling to bridge the gap between impossible hope and reality. "...Eiser?"
The man began to turn. His dark hair caught the sunlight, and as his profile came into view, a warm, strikingly familiar smile spread across his face. He looked at her with an affection that belonged to a lifetime she thought she had lost forever.
"Serena," he said softly.
The breath caught completely in her throat, her eyes welling with sudden, hot tears as the realization crashed over her. It wasn't Eiser sitting in the morning sun.
"Dad!" she cried out, the word tearing from her chest as her world tilted on its axis. "DAD!!"
serena perspective
"My daughter. Come here and sit with me."
His voice sounded exactly like the warm, golden memories I had buried deep within my chest, safe from the cold reality of the Serenity estate.
My heart hammered violently against my ribs. My feet moved before my mind could fully comprehend what my eyes were seeing. The clicking of my heels against the terrace floor felt entirely detached from me, an echo in a dream.
"Dad...! Is it really you, Dad?"
I stumbled forward, the sunlight blinding me, casting a surreal, shimmering halo around him. He looked up, his gentle, sharp features softening as he took me in. A warm smile spread across his face, one that instantly smoothed away years of grief.
"Wow. My little princess has grown into such a beautiful young lady," he murmured, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I almost didn't recognize you."
A sob caught in my throat, hot and agonizing. I sank into the chair opposite him at the small table, my hands trembling as I reached out across the white tablecloth.
"Why did you wait so long to come see me?!" The words broke from me, heavy with years of unspoken loneliness, resentment, and desperate longing.
He offered a soft, quiet chuckle, his expression incredibly peaceful. "If I came all the time, seeing me wouldn't make my princess nearly as happy."
"Seriously, how does that make any sense?" I demanded, the tears finally spilling over, hot and heavy down my cheeks. My voice cracked under the weight of my sorrow. "Do you have any idea how much... how much I waited for you, Dad...?!!"
I was a grown woman now. I held the weight of an entire estate on my shoulders, fighting battles every day in a cold, unforgiving world. But sitting here across from him, I felt like a helpless child again.
"I missed you so much!!" I cried out, the pain in my chest radiating through every breath. "Why didn't you come visit me properly, even once in my dreams?"
A gentle hand slid across the table, warm and reassuringly solid. He leaned forward, reaching out to brush a stray tear from my face. His thumb was tender, wiping away the wetness with a familiar, soothing touch.
"Oh dear... don't cry," he chided softly, though his own eyes held a profound, bittersweet depth. "What would I do if a grown lady still cries like a little child?"
"Then don't leave," I wanted to scream, but the words choked in my throat as he continued.
"Instead, I will come see my daughter on the days she's happiest, and the days she needs me the most."
A cold dread began to mingle with the warmth in my chest. The sunlight felt a little too bright, the edges of the terrace faintly blurring.
"What does that mean?" I whispered, staring at him, my hand instinctively gripping his wrist, terrified he would vanish if I let go. "Why did you come today? Huh?"
He didn't answer my question directly. Instead, he cradled my cheek in his hand, leaning in with a gaze so fiercely protective and loving it cut right through my panic.
"Serena."
Hearing my name from his lips felt like a lifeline.
"Don't worry about Mom, Dad, or your brother," he said softly, his voice echoing with a strange, final serenity. "Take good care of your grandmother and all your people."
"Dad, wait-"
"You can do that, can't you?" He smiled, a proud, brilliant expression that defied the shadows closing in around the edges of my vision. "Because Serena is Dad's daughter."
"You can do that, can't you?" His voice was fading, softening like an echo caught in a gentle breeze. "Because Serena is Dad's daughter."
The warm pressure of his fingers against my cheek began to slip away, thinning into nothingness. The brilliant, sun-drenched terrace grew blindingly bright, bleaching out the colors of the estate gardens, the marble floor, and the white table between us.
"Dad?" I called out, my fingers clawing at the empty air. "...Dad?"
The light fractured. The solid ground beneath my heels dissolved into a void of rushing wind.
"Where are you?" Panic exploded in my chest, a desperate, suffocating weight. I spun around, my hair whipping across my face.
Through the haze, I saw his back. He was already walking away, his beige suit jacket catching the phantom light of a sun that was rapidly setting.
"Dad!! Wait!!" I screamed, sprinting after him, the tears blurring my vision until he was nothing but a shifting silhouette. "Wait! Where are you going?!"
He didn't stop. He didn't turn around. Every step I took forward felt like it pushed him three steps further away.
"Don't go. Don't leave me behind. Please?" The composure I fought so hard to maintain in my waking life shattered completely. I was begging, my voice small, fragile, and broken. "I want to go with you, Dad! Take me too."
I lunged forward, my fingers miraculously catching the sleeve of his coat. I clung to his arm with everything I had, burying my face against his shoulder, desperate to anchor him to me.
A quiet, familiar sigh drifted over my head.
"You little rascal," he murmured, his tone laced with that old, fond exasperation. "Where do you think you're following me?"
I looked up, trying to read his face, but his features were casting a melancholic shadow. He reached out, his hand lifting, and with a gentle, definitive tap, his finger flicked my forehead.
"My daughter," his voice echoed from somewhere terrifyingly far away, "still has so many things left to do."
*Thump.*
A violent gasp tore from my throat as my eyes flew open.
The white terrace was gone. The sunlight was gone. My father was gone.
I was staring at the dark canopy of my bed, my chest heaving erratically as I fought for air. The phantom warmth of his touch vanished, replaced by the damp reality of cold sweat and hot tears streaming down my temples into my hair.
I bolted upright, pulling my knees to my chest as the suffocating silence of my bedroom closed in around me. The dim moonlight filtered through the heavy curtains of the Serenity estate, casting long, lonely shadows across the floorboards.
It was just a dream. A cruel, beautiful, agonizing dream.
I buried my face in my hands, my shoulders shaking violently as the phantom echoes of his voice faded completely from my mind. I was entirely alone in the dark, left with nothing but the crushing weight of the inheritance I had to protect-and the bitter realization of exactly how much I still needed him.
The lingering warmth of my father's touch shattered against the icy reality of the present. I sat up in bed, my breath coming in jagged, shallow gasps.
*Where am I?*
"Lady Serena!!"
The sharp, panicked cry pierced through the fog in my head. I blinked violently, trying to force the blurring world into focus. Two familiar faces swam into view-my maids, their expressions pale, eyes wide with a mixture of profound relief and deep anxiety.
*Home...! I'm home. It's my room.*
My gaze drifted past them, anchoring onto the gilded frames, the tall wooden vanity mirror, and the arched window looking out into the deep, quiet night. The suffocating opulence of my own chambers surrounded me.
*But why am I in my room? Since when...?*
The last thing I remembered wasn't this peaceful, moonlit silence. It was chaos. It was danger. A sickening dread pooled in the pit of my stomach, cold and heavy. The puzzle pieces of my missing memory began to violently slam together, bringing with them a terrifying realization.
*Don't tell me...*
"Where's Eiser?" My voice came out as a raw whisper, barely recognizable.
The silence that met my question was deafening. The maids exchanged a fractured, hesitant look, and that single second of hesitation confirmed my worst fears.
*Where is he?!*
A memory flashed behind my eyes-dark, vivid, and sharp. I saw Eiser standing in the dim light of his study, his silhouette rigid and unyielding. I saw his pale hand, steady despite the gravity of the moment, gripping a fountain pen. The gold nib hovered directly over the signature line of a formal document laid out on the mahogany desk.
He was going to sign it. He was going to give up everything-or take a fall-to protect me.
"...!"
A silent scream tore through my mind. *...Eiser, no!*
"What do you think you're doing?!" I shrieked, the panic finally bursting through my paralysis. "Don't do it!"
I threw the heavy duvet aside and swung my legs out of bed. The moment my feet hit the hardwood floor, a searing, white-hot agony shot straight up my legs. I looked down through a haze of pain; both of my feet were heavily wrapped in thick, white medical bandages.
I didn't care. The pain was nothing compared to the terror clawing at my throat.
Ignoring the cries of the maids behind me, I stumbled forward, my bandaged feet dragging against the floorboards as I forced myself into a dead sprint. Every step felt like walking on broken glass, but the image of that pen touching the paper drove me forward like a madwoman.
I burst through the door, my nightgown billowing around me, and sprinted toward him.
*Don't you dare do this, Eiser!*
There he was.
Before he could even register the sound of the door crashing open, I threw my entire weight forward. *Wack!* I slammed into his back, my arms whipping around his waist, locking him in a desperate, vice-like embrace. I buried my face into the crisp fabric of his white shirt, listening to the sudden, sharp catch of his breath. My fingers clawed into his sides, trembling violently, holding onto him as if the entire world would end if I let go.
"Please don't...!!"
The words tore from my throat before I could think to filter them, raw and frantic. I couldn't care about dignity, about decorum, or about the endless walls I usually kept built up between us.
"Please...!"
I squeezed my eyes shut, my fingers knotting into the fabric of his shirt. *Tight.* I squeezed so hard my knuckles turned white, wrapping my arms entirely around his torso from behind. I anchored my weight against him, trying to physically be the barrier that kept him from that desk, from that pen, from whatever self-sacrificing madness he was about to commit. The broad line of his back was rigid under my palms, unyielding as stone.
For a long, agonizing moment, he didn't move.
The study fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. The only sound in the room was the ragged, desperate rhythm of my own breathing against his shoulder. The dim, cold moonlight spilled through the grand window, casting us in stark, blue shadows, catching the edges of the paperwork that had threatened to unravel everything.
"..."
Eiser slowly turned his head, his profile cutting a sharp, cold silhouette against the windowpane. His pale blue eyes caught the moonlight-expressionless, unreadable, and terrifyingly calm. There was no warmth in his gaze, no sudden rush of reassurance. He just looked down at where my hands were hopelessly locked together over his chest.
"Let go."
His voice was a low, quiet command that vibrated straight through my palms, dropping into the silent room like ice.
Tip's:
Tairand Windsor (Gervio's father)
Ash-purple eyes were an exceptionally rare trait, even within the kingdom. Because they appeared prominently throughout the direct bloodline of the Windsor ducal family, the nobility long regarded that eye color as the unmistakable mark of a Windsor.
Long ago, however, purple eyes were believed to be an omen of disaster, giving rise to countless malicious rumors surrounding the Windsor family and even leading to bloodshed. During the era of civil war, the Duke of Windsor defended the royal family while they were surrounded by rebels and protected part of the kingdom's territory.
From that point on, those purple eyes came to symbolize authority and noble lineage.
팁:
타이란드 윈저 (제르비오의 아버지)
회갈색 눈은 왕국 내에서도 매우 드문 특징이었습니다. 윈저 공작 가문의 직계 혈통 전체에 두드러지게 나타났기 때문에 귀족들은 오랫동안 그 눈 색깔을 윈저 가문의 확실한 표식으로 여겼습니다.
그러나 오래전에는 보라색 눈이 재앙의 징조로 여겨져 윈저 가문을 둘러싼 수많은 악의적인 소문이 퍼지고 심지어 유혈 사태로 이어지기도 했습니다. 내전 시대에 윈저 공작은 반란군에 포위된 왕실 가족을 지키고 왕국 영토의 일부를 보호했습니다.
그 시점부터 그 보라색 눈은 권위와 고귀한 혈통을 상징하게 되었습니다.