Talia cast a wary look at the boy who was staring up at her with bright, unblinking eyes.
"What are you doing here?"
"I sneaked out of the palace to see you, Sister."
The boy's cheerful voice sounded almost impertinent.
Talia frowned. Her younger brother Asros, who had just turned six, was nothing short of a thorn in her side.
Though they shared the same parents, the difference between them was as vast as the sky and the earth.
This boy, with his innocent face, was a legitimate son, born to the emperor and empress as their lawful heir.
She, on the other hand, was nothing more than the filthy seed of an affair.
She still remembered watching Asros's baptism—when so many people showered him with blessings—and how her chest had burned with a jealousy so sharp it felt like being stabbed.
How could such a tiny lump of flesh, who could barely open his eyes, stir up such hatred?
Senevier, who had long since deemed the eldest daughter useless, had never allowed her to come near her precious son.
So Talia only ever saw her little brother's face during official ceremonies. Meeting him this close for the first time since his baptism felt almost unreal.
She furrowed her brows and glanced around.
"Did you come here all by yourself? If Mother finds out…"
"I'm not alone. I came with Berens."
The boy spoke with crisp certainty, then turned and pointed down the corridor.
Only then did Talia notice the black-clad man standing in the deep shadows.
It was the ghost-like man who had once guarded her side.
Now he stood by Asros instead, his eyes sharp with warning, as if ready to act the moment she so much as tried to harm the boy.
Bitterness surged in her throat.
The man's dark gaze seemed to say: You will never be someone of importance to anyone.
Talia hid her twisted feelings and asked in a flat voice,
"So, why have you come looking for me?"
"I heard you'll be going on a long journey soon. So I—"
"A long journey?" Talia cut him off sharply, her voice rising.
Startled, the boy faltered before continuing cautiously.
"Mother said you'd be joining her on the upcoming pilgrimage…"
Talia stared at him blankly, then suddenly burst into rough laughter.
Asros flinched and stepped back, as if even this innocent child thought she had lost her mind.
Clutching her stomach as she laughed, Talia leaned down toward him and asked in a mock-gentle tone,
"And what else did Mother say?"
Asros hesitated for a long while, only now seeming to realize that his words had offended her deeply.
But he was not the sort to shrink back and swallow his thoughts.
"Mother said you might be getting married soon. That a man named Count Serian has submitted a proposal…"
He trailed off mid-sentence, startled by her expression.
Perhaps her face had twisted into something truly dreadful.
The black-clad man, who had been silently watching from a distance, quickly stepped between them—afraid she might strangle this child in a fit of rage.
Ignoring the man's wary presence, Talia fixed her gaze only on her brother's innocent face.
"So you came to congratulate me? To bid farewell because the troublesome princess is finally leaving the palace for good?"
Her soft voice carried sharp thorns, and Asros's shoulders trembled.
He protested with a wounded expression.
"I just thought… if you get married, it'll be even harder to see you than it is now. So I wanted to talk to you before then. We're siblings, born of the same mother, aren't we?"
There was a faint longing in his voice.
"I've always thought it would be nice if we could be close, like our eldest sister and brother. But if you get married, maybe we'll never get the chance. That's why I came."
Talia looked down at his large, expectant eyes without the slightest flicker of emotion.
Because of this boy, she had been reduced to a completely worthless existence.
The Empress, the Emperor, and their bright, beloved son.
She was nothing but an ugly stain they wished to erase from that perfect picture.
The more Asros shone, the darker her shadow became.
It was miserable to realize how much she envied this child.
In truth, even facing him like this was unbearable.
So she crushed his naive hopes without mercy, laughing coldly.
"Do you want me to devote myself to you, like the First Princess does for her twin brother, just so you can be made emperor?"
"That's not what I meant…!"
"You don't need to ask. Mother already has it all planned out—how to use me for your benefit. Even this marriage is probably only being arranged because it serves your interests. So, little brother, abandon your foolish expectations."
Asros had no defense against such open hostility.
The look on his face, lost and bewildered, showed just how thoroughly he had been sheltered his entire life.
This child had probably never once lain awake in fear through the night.
Perhaps today's meeting would be the very first wound he ever carried.
A sharp smile tugged at Talia's lips.
"I will never be your kind and devoted sister. Because I hate you just as much as I hate our twin siblings."
His wide eyes welled with tears of shock.
And to that pitiful face, she added mercilessly,
"Now that you understand, won't you leave?"
Asros clenched his lips tightly, holding back his sobs, then turned on his heel and walked away down the empty corridor.
The black-clad man followed silently behind him.
Talia closed the door and walked back to the window.
The sky, once blue, had already begun to tint with pale violet.
The workers who had been bustling about carrying luggage were leaving the estate one by one to rest, and the knights had long since retreated to their quarters.
Absentmindedly, she brought her finger to her lips—only to wince at a sharp sting.
Blood welled up from the split between her nails, a dark, crimson line.
At the sight of it, the poison she kept buried in her heart rose up, burning her throat.
Biting back the scream that threatened to tear out of her, she grabbed the cloak hanging in the corner and threw it over her thin surcoat.
Then, without even a single maid in tow, she slipped out of the annex.
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