The Summer Palace lay in the southern part of the empire, a vast distance from the capital. The prospect of preparing her belongings and leaving for such a remote place in a single day was nothing short of absurd. Ketrisia couldn’t help but let out a hollow, bitter laugh.
“…Did he say not to return?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
A chilling realization swept over her. The Emperor’s intentions had become painfully clear. He wasn’t merely sending her away—he was ensuring that she wouldn’t have the chance to object to his order. Perhaps, in hindsight, this was something she should have expected. After all, the Emperor had been visiting her less and less, his presence becoming a rare occurrence.
“…He mentioned you should stay as long as possible,” Guinness added quietly, his words careful, measured.
Ketrisia met his gaze, her lips curling into a bitter smile. The difference in wording was subtle, but the meaning was unmistakable. It was the same as what she had feared. The Emperor’s command wasn’t a mere suggestion—it was a decree, one that made it clear what lay ahead.
House arrest.
The Emperor intended to remove his daughter, the former Crown Princess, to a distant place where she would no longer pose any threat to the next heir. She would be a mere shadow of her former self, isolated and powerless.
“Guinness, I suppose you’ll naturally stay here,” Ketrisia said, her voice laced with a hollow resignation.
A bitter smile tugged at her lips as she studied the man before her. Since his arrival, Guinness had deliberately avoided meeting her eyes. She had seen the change in him, the shift that she could no longer deny. The expression on his face wasn’t one of sympathy for his former mistress, but something far colder.
Guilt. Avoidance. Relief.
He had chosen the Emperor as his new master. The realization cut deeper than any blade.
It wasn’t lost on her that the Emperor had tasked Guinness with delivering this message. It was a test—a test of loyalty to his new lord, and Guinness had passed it without hesitation.
“How cruel…” Ketrisia whispered, her voice breaking as she buried her face in her hands, trying to shield her emotions from view.
She had been the one to recognize Guinness’s potential when he was a mere commoner, the one to select him and raise him up. She had granted him the title of Baron Petran, even when the Emperor had coveted his talents. Yet now, here they were. The Emperor had finally taken what he wanted—and it had come at the cost of Ketrisia’s last thread of trust.
Her heart twisted as she thought of it. To have lost Guinness in this way felt like an unbearable betrayal.
At least, she thought bitterly, it was a waste for such talent to wither in the quiet southern region. But to take him from her like this—it was a cruelty she hadn’t anticipated.
For the past two years, she had watched her trusted allies slip away, one by one. Yet this loss, this final severing of ties, was sharper than any that had come before.
“…Fine, I understand.” Ketrisia’s voice was barely above a whisper, her words laced with quiet resignation. “Please step aside so I can prepare. …And, if you could, please call for Lady Dmoa as you leave.”
Lady Dmoa, her head maid, had been with Ketrisia for as long as she could remember. More than a servant, Dmoa had been a constant presence in her life, having served as her wet nurse since childhood.
However, the response she received was not the one she expected.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but Lady Dmoa cannot accompany you,” Guinness said, his voice steady, but with an underlying discomfort.
At his words, Ketrisia’s carefully controlled composure cracked. Her hand, which had been steady in its feigned calm, trembled, and she froze. For a long moment, she simply stared at Guinness. Then, her voice, thick with rising emotion, broke the silence.
“Did His Majesty the Emperor order that I leave my maidservants behind as well?” she demanded.
Guinness stiffened, his pulse quickening. Even without the use of her aura, Ketrisia’s presence was overwhelming. The tension in the room was thick, suffocating. It was as though she were a predator, and he the helpless prey beneath her gaze.
Swallowing hard, Guinness gathered his courage and replied, his voice low. “The Emperor has already prepared people to attend to you at the Summer Palace.”
The words hit Ketrisia like a slap. With a crack, the armrest of the sofa snapped under the force of her grip. The anger that surged through her was primal, a raw fury that threatened to consume her. To take even her most trusted maidservants—her last shred of comfort and connection to her old life—was a deliberate and cruel act. The Emperor wasn’t just sending her away; he was isolating her. Stripping her of everything that made her who she was.
Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths as she struggled to contain the storm inside her. Slowly, deliberately, she stood, her movements sharp and precise.
“Lord Petran, you’ve just seen His Majesty, haven’t you?” she asked, her voice controlled but carrying an edge of tension. “Was he in the audience room?”
At her words, Guinness stiffened. He knew where this conversation was heading, and he had no desire to be the one to face her wrath. He hurriedly tried to deter her.
“Your Highness, the Emperor specifically said that he would not meet with you before your departure…”
“Lord Petran.”
Ketrisia’s voice was a heavy, commanding weight, and at the sound of it, Guinness felt his legs nearly give way beneath him. It wasn’t just the words, but the force behind them—the pressure of her barely restrained aura, a power she had not allowed to surface in so long.
The room seemed to grow colder, and Guinness’s heart hammered in his chest as he stood frozen, caught in the gravity of her presence.
“When did you gain the right to block my way?”
The temperature in the room seemed to rise as Ketrisia’s aura began to flare, the heat of her fury igniting within her. But even as the anger raged inside her, Ketrisia had learned over the years how to conceal it, to keep her emotions hidden beneath a mask of control.
“Move.”
The command was clear, unwavering, and filled with quiet authority.
Guinness, struggling to steady his trembling legs, stepped aside. His heart raced, but he forced his features to remain calm. He had seen Ketrisia at her strongest, her aura a force to be reckoned with. But now, as she walked past him, her presence was even more overwhelming, a reminder of what had been stripped from her.
Ketrisia’s steps were firm, her back straight, as she moved toward the door. She didn’t look back.
“No, Your Highness…!” The voice came from behind her—Julia, one of her remaining maidservants. “If you go like this, His Majesty might be enraged…”
The maidservants, who had stayed by her side despite her deteriorating condition, grabbed onto Ketrisia’s arms in desperation. Their hands trembled, but there was nothing left for them to cling to but her.
Ketrisia paused, her hand resting lightly on the doorframe as she felt their anxious grip. She could feel their fear—fear for her, for what was to come. They had been with her through it all, the last of those who hadn’t abandoned her. But even now, she could feel the weight of the isolation bearing down on her.
“Move, Julia, Michelle,” she said softly, her voice devoid of anger but carrying an unspoken command.
With a gentleness that belied the storm raging inside her, Ketrisia pried their hands off her arms.
“You don’t need to worry about me,” Ketrisia added, her tone lighter than she felt. She turned her head just enough to give them a faint, almost imperceptible smile, a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
She wasn’t really planning on confronting the Emperor.
