TOPWL 02

Chapter 02 …

“Haa……”

Judite let out a low sigh as he sat up. Looking around, he noticed the furniture glowing golden in the morning light—dawn was breaking. The woman in his dream was his mother. A commoner who was just a maid, not even a noblewoman’s handmaiden. A tragic figure whose only crime was being beautiful enough to catch the Emperor’s eye.

He wasn’t sure if she had even wanted a child, but she had cherished young Judite deeply. It was no easy task for a woman with no backing and no political knowledge to survive in the imperial palace with a child. Yet, she had never let her young son see her struggles.

Judite reached out and opened the bedside drawer. Inside lay a worn pocket locket. Pushing the latch open, he saw the portrait of a woman who looked strikingly like him. Siena, who would forever remain twenty-three—a woman barely a few years older than Judite was now. Judite stroked her portrait inside the locket.

“Mom, you always said living was the most important thing. That being alive is so much better than dying. So why did you save me and die instead?”

Siena offered no answer to his question. Judite stroked the surface of the locket, smooth and polished from being handled so often, and murmured softly.

“I actually would’ve been fine dying with you back then. But now, Mom, I can’t even die—I’m stuck living. Your last words are carved so deep inside me that just staying alive has become the only thing that matters.”

Without so much as a knock, the door burst open. Just like last night, when someone had barged in without permission. Judite tensed up, his hand reflexively reaching behind his pillow to grip his dagger. It was his nanny, waddling in with a basin of washing water.

“Oh, you’re up already?”

She threw him a suspicious glance and slammed the basin down in front of him. Water splashed over Judite’s clothes and body. Even after getting soaked, Judite just nodded quietly.

“Goodness, look at how soaked these sheets are. Did you have a nightmare or something?”

The nanny asked, looking surprised as she smoothed the bed. She didn’t seem to have noticed the blade slashes in the blanket just yet. Judite didn’t offer any extra explanation and simply nodded.

“…Yeah.”

“That dream again, huh? Poor Prince…”

She clicked her tongue, looking at Judite with pitiful eyes.

“We’d better wash these sheets. I needed to do laundry anyway, so it works out.”

She said as she stripped the bed, offering a pseudo-consolation. After finishing washing his face, Judite paced absentmindedly, only to stumble over the sheets the nanny had tossed on the floor.

“Your Highness, are you alright?”

“…I’m fine. Just lost my footing.”

“Tsk, being this fragile… what are we going to do with you?”

The nanny spoke with a worried tone. Straightening her back while holding the sheets, she continued.

“I’ll drop these off and bring your clothes right back. You’ve got a lot to prepare for today. It’s the day you meet His Majesty, after all.”

“Those basques are getting higher by the day.”

Khalid remarked, gazing down out the window of the Imperial Prince’s palace. Out in the garden, noblewomen wearing massive basques were strolling about. A basque was a cage-like frame made of whalebone and wire used to puff out skirts; it let noblewomen volumize their dresses without layering dozens of petticoats, making it a huge trend over the past few years. But as those basques kept growing bigger and bigger, their skirts got caught on the bushes lining the paths—making a simple walk through the hedge maze look like a struggle.

“Is that so?”

Reginald brushed the comment off. He licked his dry lips and started to bite his nails before quickly catching himself and lacing his fingers together. Still, he couldn’t hide the twitching in his legs. Reginald had been in a foul mood since this morning. It was past noon, which meant he should’ve been attending Judite’s funeral right about now.

“More importantly, what happened?”

Unable to hold back any longer, Reginald demanded. Khalid feigned ignorance without a single change in his expression.

“What do you mean?”

“The task you promised to take care of.”

“Ah, that.”

Khalid drew the green curtains, blocking out the sunlight pouring through the window. Standing in the newly formed shade with a subtle smirk, he spoke.

“I placed a stay of execution.”

“What on earth do you mean by that?”

Reginald’s expression instantly turned grim.

“He was far more intriguing than I anticipated.”

“Judite? That thing? Don’t tell me you’ve taken a liking to him?”

Reginald stared at Khalid, his face practically begging for a no. But Khalid gave a innocent smile and delivered the exact answer Reginald feared most.

“You could say that.”

Reginald felt his chronic migraine flaring up again. Things were spiraling out of control. He had wondered why a Duke would take on such a petty errand, and now this? He wanted nothing more than to slap Khalid’s face for ruining the plan and kill Judite himself, but he was terrified of the fallout. Khalid was a man who had taken the ducal title at a young age and slaughtered dozens of his own cousins who lusted after his rank. He wasn’t someone Reginald—still just a prince—could eliminate and sweep under the rug. Forced to squeeze out a fake smile, Reginald spoke.

“Once I become Emperor, I’ll match you with an Omega far better than that trash.”

“Is that so?”

Khalid replied, sounding mildly intrigued. Clutching at a ray of hope, Reginald nodded eagerly.

“Yes, absolutely.”

“My, that’s quite a tempting offer.”

“So then—”

“Regrettably, though, you aren’t the Emperor just yet.”

Realizing he was being played like a fool, Reginald’s lips trembled violently. He was certain Khalid had come here specifically to mess with him. The anxiety he’d been suppressing with medication felt ready to relapse at any second.

“So I’d advise you to watch your tongue. With His Majesty currently in poor health, someone might think you’re plotting treason.”

Reginald raised an eyebrow sharply.

“Are you threatening me right now?”

“Perish the thought.”

Khalid smiled with an unreadable look. Reginald resolved right then and there that once he became Emperor, he would grind this man under his heel and cut off his head at the first given opportunity.

“…Out of respect for you, Duke, I will leave that Judite alone for a while.”

Reginald spat through gritted teeth.

“But keep this in mind. I intend to become a complete and absolute Emperor.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Khalid tapped his temple lightheartedly, signaling his agreement. That casual attitude made Reginald’s stomach ache alongside his headache.

“So I hope you lose that little interest of yours as soon as possible.”

“I’ll try.”

Khalid trailed off and stood up. Truth be told, Khalid was just as annoyed as Reginald. He had decided to back Reginald simply because he had the highest chance of becoming Emperor, but the man was far dumber than expected.

‘Can’t even hide his own thoughts…’

It was making him uneasy. Clicking his tongue, Khalid started walking down the palace corridor. Taking a backup horse had been a good decision. Even if that ‘horse’ happened to be a half-dead Omega.

Instead of the unpleasant meeting he just had, Khalid recalled the delightful encounter from last night.

‘Prove your worth. Prove to me that you’re worth investing in. Show me you’re not just a idiot who knows how to talk big.’

‘What kind of proof do you want?’

Judite hadn’t hesitated for a single second before asking right back. It was refreshing that he didn’t beat around the bush.

‘The first Crown Prince Competition will be held soon.’

At the mention of the competition, Judite’s irises dilated in surprise before shrinking back to normal. He seemed rattled that Duke Khalid knew something even he, an Imperial Prince, was clueless about. Khalid watched with amusement as Judite scrambled to pull his composure back together. Since it was an enjoyable night, he figured giving a small hint wouldn’t hurt.

‘Are you familiar with Herut?’

‘Do you mean the desert kingdom?’

Judite’s answer amused Khalid even more. Normally, when people heard ‘Herut’, they only thought of desert nomads or scattered tribes—hardly anyone referred to it as a ‘kingdom’. Herut crossed the deserts freely, amassed vast wealth through trade, and eventually established their own kingdom in the sands. Yet, the people of the Empire refused to acknowledge them as a proper kingdom. They looked down on them as mere sand-eaters playing house with titles and crowns.

‘Looks like Basure taught you well.’

It seemed Basure hadn’t given his heart to a dying prince for no reason. Before he was a scholar or a teacher, Basure was a once-in-a-century genius. He probably didn’t want to lose someone he could converse with as an equal, regardless of status. He seemed to genuinely care for him, too.