“Haa, haa, haa.”
Though she had made no sudden movent, the queen’s chest heaved violently. Like a dog crouched on the floor, she stared fixedly at the hands of her attendant. Her entire vision was filled by the small bottle he held.
“Quickly, give that...”
It was dicine she had not seen in months. Deprived of it, she had spent her days curled up in a corner, consud by fear. Even the smallest speck of dust seed terrifying. Her body, gaunt and skeletal, was tornted by endless thirst and hallucinations.
But now—at last—it was before her again. This dicine, as vital as life itself. As she raised a trembling hand, the attendant lifted the bottle higher. Her eyes quivered with desperation, but she did not dare approach. All she could do was wait, hoping he would offer her the black potion like a master rewarding a well-trained pet.
When the waiting reached its limit, the attendant’s voice rang out.
“Do you think you deserve this? After leaving the devil you created unchecked?”
Devil?
That single word pierced her consciousness, already mired in darkness. The attendant smiled coldly at her reaction.
“Yes, a devil. Now, I’ll give you this—but you must do your part. You know what that is, don’t you?”
When the bottle was finally placed in her hands, the queen opened the cap with shaking fingers and took a sip. One sip was enough. A chilling clarity coursed through her. Her mind stabilized, and her limbs felt alive again. Strength surged through her body.
That strength made her feel uncontrollable—as if she needed to break, to destroy.
Luckily, she had a target for her power.
Slipping the remaining potion into her pocket, the queen slowly stood. A smile crept across her pale lips.
Let’s go educate the devil. Haha.
****
The docunt lmond had transcribed continued, moving from the queen’s role to the appearance of the prince’s first Regas.
[They send a specially chosen Regas to the prince, who has been ntally isolated through abuse by his stepmother. The prince, drawn to kindness, opens his heart and accepts this figure as his only Regas.
At that mont, they strike again—delivering a second trauma.
They kill the Regas and leave the body at the entrance to the Dragon Forest. From that mont, the forest becos a place of death in the prince’s mind.
What they fear most is a Regas gaining influence over the prince. So they move quickly to eliminate the first.
After the prince opens his heart, it takes only a few days—or a month at most—for them to act. Afterward, they present a new Regas with the sa face, voice, and mannerisms as the original.]
There was no more. The final lines were shaky, as if lmond’s hand had lost all strength. He slowly looked up and whispered heavily,
“Run away, Abel.”
“......”
“They’re going to kill you. Get out. Find a way—any way—and just go. I’m scared. I... I can’t take this...”
“I had a dream.”
Abel gently cut him off. lmond looked at him, confused, as Abel gave a faint smile.
“I dreamt of the kingdom the master once dread of—burning.”
“What?”
lmond gasped, barely managing to speak.
“A dream like that... that’s nothing special.”
“But I’ve had it every day.”
Abel’s voice was quiet—too quiet. A chill ran down lmond’s spine. He suddenly rembered how Abel had dread like this in the days before his master’s death. For a mont, lmond couldn’t speak.
“S-Since when?”
“Since the day I collapsed in the forest.”
Gasp.
lmond shot to his feet, pushing the chair back with a start.
“Then—it’s already been over 20 days! You... no. No. Dreams are nothing. They an nothing. Just—run. Run now. I can help you.”
“It’s okay.”
“What? What do you an ‘okay’? You’ll die if you stay here!”
lmond’s voice rose in panic, but Abel lowered his head, apologetically. Then, lifting his gaze again, his voice remained calm.
“It’s not the sa as the dream the master had. From the second day I t soone... the dreams began to change. Bit by bit.”
“Change? How?”
Abel hesitated, then smiled awkwardly. He looked into the empty space for a mont before answering,
“I don’t know yet. But I think—it’s sothing good.”
“...”
“That’s why I can’t leave.”
His voice was unwavering.
lmond, stunned, stared at him for a long mont before sinking back into his seat. He mumbled to himself, his voice a near whisper.
“If you insist on staying... then there’s nothing I can do. I have a child now... and I...”
“It’s okay. And I’m sorry. Um, but—”
Abel apologized softly, unsure whether to continue. But before he could finish, a loud knock interrupted them. Without waiting for permission, the door burst open, and a soldier rushed in, breathless.
“Lord Regas, sothing terrible has happened!”
****
Outside the prince’s bedroom, Ashler stood frozen, staring at the door with a fearful expression. His hand hovered near his sword, ready to draw at any mont—yet he didn’t move. No, he couldn’t move. He had received an order.
Still, every ti a faint noise ca from the room, his hand trembled. Two months ago, he might have ignored what was happening and stepped outside. Perhaps he would have joked with fellow guards, waiting for the shift to end.
No. Ashler shook the thought away. Ti was not the problem. If the room had been empty, he wouldn’t ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ have cared about the prince—no matter how much ti passed. Back then, he had no feelings for the prince who never changed.
And yet, even now, with everything changed—Ashler remained powerless.
Thud.
A sharp noise echoed from within. Fury rose in Ashler’s chest—not at anyone else, but at himself. He had heard of the queen’s cruelty before coming here. He knew how she had tornted the prince, but without seeing it firsthand, he had let himself forget.
And tonight—on the first night the prince had truly rested after eting Abel—he heard heavy footsteps in the corridor.
A stench fouled the air. Tangled hair, a skull-like face, and wild, flickering eyes.
Ashler tried to draw his sword—but a maid grabbed his arm, crying out.
“It’s the queen!”
The queen.
Even if there was strange laughter or unsettling noise, no one could object to the command sealed under that na. At the end of the corridor, the newly arrived administrator and the record keeper stood with folded arms, watching openly.
Is there truly no way?
The question echoed in Ashler’s mind—again and again—when urgent footsteps rang through the hallway. Staring at the door, he didn’t realize who it was until the figure ca close.
“Haa, haa... Please move aside.”
Ashler stepped aside, then turned his head. His eyes widened.
“Abel? How did you...?”
Abel’s face, pale even earlier when leaving the forest, now looked nearly lifeless. Yet, after a short bow to Ashler, he grabbed the doorknob without hesitation. Shocked, Ashler grabbed his wrist and stopped him.
“What are you trying to do? The queen is inside. You can’t just rush in.”
“Yes. I know.”
Ashler couldn’t answer. That fragile face... was smiling. Calmly.
“But we still have to save the prince.”
“...”
“It’s alright. I’ll handle it. Please wait here, Ashler.”
Thud.
Abel opened the door and slipped inside.
Ashler remained motionless, glaring at the door that Abel had passed through so easily.
He couldn’t breathe.
Abel couldn’t breathe either—because of what he saw.
He had read the records lmond gave him and understood the queen’s state. But the sight before him was worse than imagined. The queen was dragging a small child by the hair, laughing harshly. Her voice, jagged and strange, finally broke Abel from his frozen state.
“You walked around with your eyes uncovered, didn’t you? Huh? You’re just another irredeemable devil. This ti, I’ll educate you properly.”
She swung the prince's limp body toward the floor.
But before he hit the ground, sothing large caught him.
“Hah! Who—who are you?!”
Startled, the queen stepped back. Abel, holding the prince, quickly got up and checked him. The boy’s forehead was bleeding, his swollen face marked with red bruises. His torn top revealed dark, mottled wounds beneath.
“Are you alright, Your Highness?”
As Abel held the prince close and whispered, a faint voice responded.
“...Eppel?”
“Yes, Eppel’s here. I’m sorry I was late, Your Highness.”
Abel shielded the prince with his body, his voice gentle. The queen’s expression twisted, eyes full of murderous rage.
“Who dares stand in my way?!”
“Your Majesty, I apologize. But this is not the way to discipline a child—he is still so young.”
“Silence! How dare you—how dare you defy ?!”
Her shriek rang out like a scream. Abel covered the prince’s ears with both hands and curled closer.
“Your Majesty, please listen. You’re unwell. Your judgnt is—”
But she wasn’t listening. Mouth gaping, she gasped for breath, eyes wild. Suddenly, her gaze locked on sothing.
She lunged and grabbed it.
It was the broken leg of a chair lying amid the wreckage. The splintered edge was sharp—dangerous like a weapon. Grinning triumphantly, the queen approached.
“Oh, I see. If you’re hugging that devil, then you’re a sinner too.
Shall I educate you both?”
Her foot lifted first. Her eyes bulged, blood vessels bursting.
Abel bent low, holding the prince tightly beneath him. Then the queen’s foot slamd down on his back.
Her laughter rang out, shrill and cruel.
“Ha, ha—die, you devil! Hee hee hee—die! Die!”
Despite the kicks, Abel tensed his back, shielding the prince from harm. He wrapped his arms around the boy’s head and whispered gently.
“Prince... close your eyes and picture the forest. Walk the familiar path. You’ll find the open field, rember? We always had lunch there. The wind blows and...”
His whisper, like a spell, temporarily silenced the world. Though the queen thrashed and scread above, only Abel’s voice filled the prince’s ears. It was strange... When he followed Abel’s words, a real forest seed to appear behind his closed eyelids. Abel continued.
“The wind blew, and the cloth I spread out flew away. So we ran—ran through the field to catch it. It caught on a tree in the woods...”
His voice—shaky at first—grew steadier, even as the queen stabbed the sharp chair leg into his back. Blood blood across his shirt, but Abel’s tone remained soft, gentle.
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