Chapter 1

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Chapter 1

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“Wake up. If you fall asleep here, you'll die.”

With that chilling warning, her body was forcibly pulled upright. Iona then realized she had been unconscious.

She stared blankly at the hand gripping her collar, then slowly lifted her gaze upward.

The man who had seized her by the scruff was glaring at her with terrifying eyes.

Iona barely parted her dry lips to ask.

“……Duke Leroy?”

“Yeah, are you coming around a bit?”

A strange sense of relief flickered across the man's face.

He seemed to glimpse hope that she might survive, but it was a futile expectation. Her condition was utterly wrecked.

Her mind was far from intact as well, her memories before passing out fragmented and patchy.

The last scene that surfaced in her head was turning around at the sound of a massive roar.

Having woken up amid the collapsed debris, it was clear she'd been caught in the explosion without escape.

Iona panted raggedly, struggling to piece together her muddled thoughts.

Why did things end up like this for me?

It wasn't doubt about her ragged state. This was a far more fundamental question.

Why had Iona Modroff, the Emperor's Sword, been left alone in these ruins, awaiting death?

What was the reason she was spending her final moments with this man, who was less than even a stranger?

That her savior—the one who had come searching for her after she fell behind while protecting the Emperor—was none other than her husband, whom she'd been at odds with. It felt like the cruelest twist of fate.

And the one who had chosen that husband for her was the Emperor himself.

Iona had served as guard knight to the current Emperor, Richardt, staying faithfully by his side even before he ascended as Crown Prince.

For her lord, she spared no effort in anything.

Even if it was something as monumental in life as marriage.

One day, amid rumors swirling from their overly close liege-vassal bond, Richardt summoned Iona to the Crown Prince's Palace.

After briefly showing displeasure at the absurd gossip, he dismissed it casually and said,

“Looks like it might be best for you to get married. The partner doesn't really matter, right?”

The match Richardt had picked for Iona was Duke Leroy Han.

At a time when the prestigious Han Ducal Family was faltering from an unfortunate scandal, he had seized the chance to insert his own forces into key positions. Naturally, their marital relations were the worst.

The Duke constantly distrusted his wife, who served as the Emperor's eyes and ears, and Iona humbly accepted his rejection.

From the moment she walked into the wedding hall on his arm until this very day, Iona had never once considered them a proper couple.

The Duke probably felt the same.

So why, of all people, are you here right now?

“Why on earth did you come here? How……”

Iona swallowed a cough and asked with difficulty.

Except for official duties, they generally lived separately.

She couldn't fathom how he, unaware of her whereabouts, had shown up right on time.

She herself had no particular complaints, but the Emperor's cowardly schemes against the ducal house had completely ruined her marriage.

No one in the Duke's household saw her as a proper lady of the house.

“You're not here to rescue me……”

“Is it strange for a husband to come save his wife?”

“Of course it is, for us.”

“Agreed.”

The man replied in an unamused tone and released her collar.

As he glanced around, Iona checked her own condition.

The wound from the battle was quite deep, but fortunately—or unfortunately—her red uniform hid it from view.

Clinging to her fading consciousness, Iona asked,

“So, you're not going to tell me the real reason?”

“If you survive this in one piece, I'll tell you.”

“That's an impossible premise. I'll die soon, and if you're unlucky, so will you.”

“You sure can talk a lot, so you must be holding on okay.”

With that, the man peered intently into Iona's expressionless face.

Seeing him fuss over her condition in such an uncharacteristic way, it seemed he really had come to save her.

Iona hid her surprise by changing the subject.

“……Is His Majesty safe?”

“You're asking about the well-being of the lord who abandoned you and fled?”

The man shot back irritably. It was a fair point, laced with personal feelings though it was.

But Iona herself held no real grudge against the Emperor's choice.

Wasn't it a guard knight's duty to protect their charge?

Besides, Richardt wasn't the type to go easy on her out of long service—he lacked that kind of sentimentality.

She was loyal to the Emperor, but she wasn't so lacking in judgment as to deny the truth: he was objectively a bastard.

Today's ambush by those enraged by his tyranny made it clear he wasn't blameless.

Because of that, Iona hadn't been particularly shocked by the sudden attack.

A leader who fails to gauge public sentiment never lasts long.

Her fellow knights must have thought the same; the moment the disturbance was detected, they evacuated the Emperor with disciplined efficiency, as if they'd anticipated it.

Left behind at the scene, Iona cut down the enemies swarming her without rest.

Iona was a woman who had risen to the Emperor's closest confidant with nothing but her sword, and under equal conditions, no one could match her.

She might even have slain them all and returned safely to her lord's side. If only the desperate foes hadn't detonated the explosives.

“I have subordinates who know I'm here. They'll come rescue us soon, so don't waste your strength and just wait. The exit's blocked by rubble anyway—we can't leave now.”

With that, the Duke leaned back against the wall with a faint sigh.

Having found her alive, had he finally relaxed? His face somehow looked a bit less tense than before.

It wasn't due to carelessness that he hadn't noticed her injury. It was because she was so accustomed to hiding her pain and pretending she was fine.

At first, it had been out of wariness, but now she oddly didn't want him to know she was hurt.

Perhaps because he had rushed here, genuinely concerned for her life.

Even though she would die soon anyway……

“Duke Leroy, can I ask one favor?”

“Speak. ……No, don't. If it's some bullshit that'll annoy me.”

“I want one last kiss.”

A rare look of fluster crossed the man's face.

He awkwardly straightened his torso from the wall and looked down at her.

“What did you just……”

Perhaps thinking she'd injured her head, his eyes flicked to her crown.

Only after scanning her skeptically once over did he continue the conversation.

“Do you have feelings for me or something?”

“No, but dying without even kissing my husband once feels kind of unfair.”

“We've already done it, at the wedding.”

“That was three seconds of lips barely touching. Is Your Grace's mental age around eight?”

Iona pointed out the uncomfortable truth.

From their marriage until now, they'd never so much as held hands in private. Naturally, they'd never kissed like ordinary couples or spent the night together.

So Iona assumed he had a lover somewhere she didn't know about.

At least the Duke never appeared publicly with another woman to humiliate his wife, and Iona lived expecting no more than that basic decency from her husband.

Until death was staring her down, that is.

“I won't tell anyone. I'll keep it as my secret.”

If word got out they'd kissed, plenty of people would be disappointed—especially his retainers.

Her promise to protect his dignity apparently came off more sincere than intended. He responded defensively.

“Don't talk like you actually like me.”

“I wouldn't do something that shameless.”

“To whom?”

The man asked in a flat tone.

As Iona looked puzzled, he let out a scoffing sigh.

“Betrayed by your lover, now you want to cheat or something?”

She couldn't make sense of that either.

She was simply asking for physical contact from her legal spouse. "Cheating" didn't fit.

Besides, who the hell was this "lover" he was talking about?

Pondering his words, Iona suddenly had a ridiculous thought.

“Don't tell me…… you're talking about His Majesty the Emperor?”