How do I explain that an entire noble house is being murdered right now?
How do I casually drop, "Papa, the Everhart mansion is under attack," without sounding like I licked a magic mushroom?
He’ll think I’m just babbling nonsense. A two-year-old’s midnight fever dream. And by the time he realizes I wasn’t... It’ll be too late.
What do I say? What do I do? How do I save Osric before it’s too late?
And then something clicked.
How did I forget this? In the novel, there was a moment—just a passing line, a blink-and-you-miss-it kind of tragedy. It said Grand Duke Regis had tried to ask for help from the emperor. He sent one of his knights to the imperial palace in a last-ditch effort to get reinforcements.
But the knight was stabbed in the stomach.
He died before reaching the palace.
His body was found a little distance from the imperial gates—crumpled near the side road, horse still saddled. And that’s how they found out the Everhart mansion was under siege... but it was already too late.
If I’m right—then that knight should already be out there.
Bleeding. Dying. Alone.
I looked up at Papa. His gaze hadn’t left my face, concern etched deep between his brows.
"Papa..." I whispered, clutching his robe with both hands, "I want to see those stars. From the other side."
He blinked. "The other side of the palace?"
I nodded solemnly, like I had just asked him to take me on a spiritual journey and not a royal detour at bedtime. "Yes. The stars there are prettier."
He furrowed his brows. "You can see them from here."
"Nooo," I whined, tugging harder. "Please... Let’s go. I want to see..."
There was a long pause.
He stared at me, crimson eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to read the hidden message underneath my toddler insistence. I kept my face as innocent and non-suspicious as possible.
Then he sighed softly and smiled. "Alright. If you want to."
Thank you, Father of the Year.
We made our way down the long marble corridors, through the quiet gardens bathed in moonlight, and toward the main gate of the imperial palace.
I fidgeted in Papa’s arms, my heart thudding too fast for my tiny chest. This was it. The moment. If I was right...
"Papa," I said quickly, "put me down."
He raised an eyebrow but obeyed, gently placing me down on the cold stone path. I immediately spun toward the gate and squinted into the darkness outside.
...Of course, I couldn’t see anything.
I’m two years old. My eyesight’s basically ornamental.
"I wish I had a telescope. Or like... night vision goggles," I mumbled.
"What is it, lavinia?" Papa asked behind me.
"Nothing!" I chirped.
I pretended to be enthralled by the stars, pointing randomly at the sky while sneaking glances toward the road beyond the palace gates.
An empty horse was standing a little ways off the main road outside the gate. Its saddle straps were dark, and it looked like some shadow.
Of course, I couldn’t see the knight. He must’ve already fallen... out of sight, behind the hedges or lying in the ditch.
But that horse—it was the sign I needed.
"Oh... Papa, look there," I said, pointing through the bars of the gate. "It’s a big horse!"
Papa turned his head. Theon followed his gaze and blinked. And then...
"That’s right," he said slowly. "It’s a horse. But... why would there be one standing there alone outside the imperial palace?"
YES. That’s right, Theon! You beautiful, competent man—you caught my bait perfectly.
Papa’s eyes narrowed.
In the empire, knights didn’t leave horses roaming around like that. Every patrol was accounted for. Every horse had a rider.
"Go and have a look," Papa ordered coldly.
Three guards immediately snapped to attention and jogged forward, torches flickering against the darkened stone.
I stood there, still pretending to stargaze, pointing at the sky like nothing was wrong—but my stomach was already twisting into knots.
I knew what they were going to find.
They rushed back, their armor clanking, breath ragged and eyes wide with panic.
"Your Majesty!" one of them shouted, barely stopping to bow. "There’s a knight—an Everhart knight—lying dead just beyond the gate!"
A collective gasp cut through the night like a knife.
"What?" Theon barked. "An Everhart knight?!"
Papa’s expression sharpened, his brow furrowing, mouth tightening into a thin, dangerous line. Something clicked behind his eyes.
He looked at the nanny immediately and ordered. "Take Lavinia inside."
Her arms were around me before I could blink. I didn’t even protest. Because this part—this was out of my hands.
"Let’s go, my princess," she whispered gently as she turned away.
I twisted in her arms, trying to catch one last look at Papa, at Theon, at the guards gathering at the gates, all of them armed and tense.
Papa was already moving, his cape billowing behind him, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Theon followed close behind, barking rapid orders to mobilize the rest of the palace guard.
They left through the palace gates without another word.
And I—clutched in the safety of familiar arms—could only watch them disappear into the darkness.
Please... Please don’t be too late.
This was all I could do. All I was able to do.
I just hope it was enough.
============================================================================================================================
[Emperor Cassius’s Pov]
The moment I saw the knight’s body, I knew something was wrong.
He lay collapsed by the side of the road like a discarded puppet—his armor torn open, soaked through with blood. His hand was still loosely curled around the reins that had already slipped from his fingers. The horse beside him trembled, foam dripping from its mouth, as if it had galloped without rest until its master died.
One look at the crest on his cloak made my jaw tighten.
"What was he doing here?" Theon muttered, crouching near the body. "He didn’t even make it to the gate..."
Then he looked up at me, voice low. "Your Majesty—"
I didn’t wait for him to finish.
"Ready the horses," I barked, turning on my heel. "Now. We ride to the Everhart estate."
There was no hesitation. No questions. My knights moved like the hounds of war they were trained to be.
He was coming for help. And he died in the middle of the road.
"Should we send a messenger ahead?" Theon asked, catching up as I mounted. "Alert the First Division?"
"No time," I growled. "The attack’s already begun. They don’t have hours. They don’t even have minutes. Let’s go."
We rode like the wind.
The city blurred past in streaks of shadow and torchlight, as if the world itself knew it had failed to warn us.
The mansion loomed ahead, shrouded in smoke. The air stank of blood and fire. We entered through the side, and the first thing I saw were the bodies. Maids. Gardeners. House guards. All dead.
I jumped off the horse.
"Enter," I ordered my knights. "Kill anyone not wearing our crest. Protect the living. No mercy for the rest."
Steel clashed behind me as my knights charged forward. I sprinted ahead, blade already drawn.
A masked intruder lunged at me from behind a column.
The estate was crawling with them—mercenaries, assassins, rats who only knew how to bite when the lights were out. Cowards. Fools.
Whoever planned this had money. Influence. And the audacity to think they could lay a hand on this house.
The house that took me in when I had nothing. The man who made me into the emperor I am.
And they dared to attack it?
I stormed through the shattered front hall, heart thundering. Rage burned through my veins like fire.
I would kill every last one of them.
He was cradling his son in his arms—bloodied, barely standing. The Grand Duke was still holding the line. Alone. His sword trembled in his grip, but he hadn’t fallen.
His eyes widened when he saw me, disbelieving.
Because behind him—an assassin broke from the shadows, dagger raised. Before Regis could even turn, my sword flashed.
I cut the bastard’s head clean off.
The corpse fell without a sound.
Then he stared at me.
"You’re safe," I said, my voice low and cold.
A weak, crooked smirk tugged at his lips. "I knew you would come..."
And then he collapsed.
I caught him before he could hit the ground, gripping his blood-slicked armor. The weight of him sagged against me—too heavy, too warm, too alive to die here.
His son, Osric, was still in his arms. The boy clung to his father’s tunic, too shocked to scream, too stunned to cry.
Theon burst in from the hall. His eyes widened at the scene, and without a word, he knelt and gently pried Osric from Regis’s arms.
The boy trembled violently, clutching onto Theon like a lifeline. His wide eyes locked onto his father—unmoving, pale, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.
"Father...?" Osric whispered, his voice cracking.
"He’s not dead," I said sharply. "He won’t die."
Theon stood, holding Osric carefully. The child, his small frame shaking with silent sobs.
"Get the boy to the physician," I ordered. "Now."
Theon hesitated. "But Your Majesty, if Grand duke—"
"I’ll carry him," I growled, lifting the Grand Duke into my arms with a grunt. "Move."
We left the ruined hall, bodies still littering the corridors, knights sweeping the estate clean. My cape dragged through blood as I walked, but I didn’t slow down. I wouldn’t.
"You’re not allowed to die," I muttered under my breath. "You stubborn bastard. You don’t get to die until I say so."