I thought I'd dozed off for a moment, but it seemed I'd fainted again. My vision was blurry, like I was wearing the wrong prescription glasses.
Through my narrowed eyelids, I glimpsed the unfamiliar landscape of the room and its cream-colored ceiling. A warm, floating sensation floated across my back. I felt like I was in some mansion. The recent events seemed like a bad nightmare, and I felt a sense of relief, but I tried to get up.
But my body, so sore from the pain of a cold that I couldn't even move a finger, forced me to face the reality of everything. I've been to prison and escaped from prison.
Through the window curtains, I could see a sullen, gray sky, as if it were about to snow. Judging by the lack of morning air, it must have been afternoon.
“Where am I?”
“My friend’s house.”
Lying in bed, I muttered to myself, and a soft voice answered. Turning my stiff neck, I looked toward the source of the voice. I saw Noah sitting in an ash chair next to the bed, just as he had always done.
This guy... had friends?
He wore an ivory shirt and an olive-colored military cardigan, and his face was covered in bandages. His clouded eyes, still slightly lingering from yesterday's bleak, murderous look, gazed down at me with affection.
“I thought you were dead. You wouldn’t wake up.”
It's often said fondly that I slept like the dead. As my dulled senses returned, I realized he had been holding my hand the whole time.
I also had a random thought: "You must have been holding onto it from the car until now, right?"
A woman who appeared to be a maid brought bread and soup and left, and instead of handing me a spoon and fork, Noah took a spoonful of soup and blew on it.
I had to lean back against the headboard and eat the meal he fed me for the first time in a long while. Every time the soup touched my chapped lips, I frowned, feeling a stinging sensation.
“What area is this?”
“The North. North Calz.”
Even if you don't hear it, the name itself evokes the feeling of a cold region. Even when I'm wrapped in warm quilted pajamas and buried under the covers, I shiver from the cold.
Noah put the back of his hand on my pale cheek.
"Cold?"
“Yes. It seems a bit cold in this neighborhood.”
“Yeah. And I think the Princess has a cold.”
The pounding headache, body aches, and chills were all traces of a cold. While small, my body was naturally strong. Having survived the harsh winters with just a worn-out blanket, I should be able to withstand the cold, but I must have overdone it.
Putting aside the fact that I'm sick, I need to ask about things I haven't been able to ask because I'm tired.
"But Noah, isn't Medea allied with Frogen? We've probably been wanted. What if they forcibly repatriate us?"
“The Queen is closer to me. She lived in my house for a few months when I was young.”
But then, wouldn't that country and Frogen be at odds? Thinking about international diplomacy gives me a headache. Anyway, Noah seems to have more connections than I thought.
“Really? How long does it take to get there?”
“It’ll take a while because we have to go back. We should leave when you get over your cold.”
I slowly withdrew my hand and rubbed my bandaged forehead. I still had a slight fever. When would I ever get better?
Knock knock.
A knock was heard, and a tall, middle-aged man with a sturdy appearance, dressed in a wine-colored home robe, entered. He smiled kindly. He stroked his neatly trimmed mustache and began to speak.
"Colonel Rotsilt. The Central Army battalion will be leaving here in three days, so you should stay at my mansion until then."
“Yeah. I’m discharged now. I’m not a colonel.”
The age difference is also something to consider, and they don't seem like friends at all. Perhaps because he's from the land of courtesy in the East, Noah's attitude of being half-respectful to an older person is confusing.
The man who had been looking at Noah smiled at me with his wrinkled eyes wide and affectionate.
"Discharged, you still love a good joke. I hope you return safely, Miss Diana. God bless you."
"Going back?" What do you mean? I've never been to Medea before. The man who spoke to me in an unfamiliar tone seemed to have a quick temper, as he stormed out of the room before I could even hear his thanks.
I didn't realize it when I was in the city center or the port city, but the gloomy scenery outside the window made me realize that we were in the middle of a war.
Lines of soldiers in full gear were often seen, and civilians went about their lives with tense faces.
The floor was littered with colorful propaganda papers, and people were marching holding picket signs with slanderous messages against the enemy.
It seems similar to the World War that I had in my life, but I don't know if it was the First or Second World War.
It seems like a haphazard mix of 19th and early 20th-century scenes. Perhaps technological advancements were too rapid for the times? Perhaps it's the artist's influence.
Hyperinflation might soon hit, with a single loaf of bread costing 20 million won. My anxiety was growing, so I quickly shook my head to shake it off.
“But what are our plans for the future?”
At my question, Noah ran a hand through his jet-black hair and let out a deep sigh.
“Please wait for marriage. You need to find a rich husband.”
He wore the dismayed expression of a man whose postponed marriage was because he had been blocked by the wall of reality. The word "marriage" made my face flush involuntarily.
No, that's not what I was asking.
In a world of traitors, fugitives, and total war, you might wonder if romance is even possible... But seeing that even in the midst of war, love blossoms, marriages occur, and children are born, it seems like it's not impossible.
“I’m satisfied as long as I have a place to settle down and live.”
"Yes. Diana, I'll give you everything you need. I can even give you the world."
Noah lowered his eyes and answered in a languid voice. I nodded, as if entranced by his presence.
Did he ever say something so unrealistic? It was a strange thing to say, yet it was pleasant to hear. It was all because of his captivating face and sweet voice. I avoided his gaze for no reason and stared at the carpet on the floor.
Yeah, it'll work out somehow.
The mad Duke's abandonment and departure were only the beginning of his madness.
The buildings housing the factory, munitions factory, and Third Engineering Department, located on the former estate of Duke Frogen Rotsilt, suddenly exploded. Citizens who heard the explosions rocking the buildings the night before, thinking it was an enemy invasion and artillery fire, trembled in fear all night, and the military and police were urgently dispatched.
Commander Rockefeller, who went to the scene himself, sighed as he looked at the flames rising like an active volcano and the flames fiercely engulfing the surrounding area.
“So that’s what you were thinking after all?”
This was a provocation and a warning to the Emperor. Noah must have known that the Frogen side had recently issued a warrant for a woman named Diana.
This was a silent warning that the next stop would be the Imperial Palace. This was where military corruption was being investigated, and the Emperor's reason for ordering the investigation was obvious.
The new military business of the former Duke.
All relevant documents were missing, and his secretary, who had consistently denied knowing anything, suddenly vanished. The former second lieutenant who had been shot while working as a maid and spying on Noah also vanished.
The Emperor is desperate to capture him, as he may provide military weapons and intelligence developed by him to other Allied or Federal nations to check the Frogen's hegemony.
To prevent this, the Emperor could have overlooked the antics of the hot-blooded young man, but he made a mistake, prioritizing his own authority over others.
Certainly, Noah is a man capable of such a thing. He only wants Diana, a woman, and wants no one else to touch her.
The Commander knows Noah very well, having watched him since he was a child. He lacks empathy for others and doesn't know how to love.
Only with outstanding observation and insight skills could he understand the thoughts of others, and through socialization, through knowledge, common sense, and education, he was able to act based on that and live together without any problems.
His thoughts aren't on the level of assassinating the Emperor or changing the regime. They're always going way beyond what ordinary people think.
“Are you planning to start the project that Frogen failed on Medea?”
The conclusion he reached after much thought was this: Yes, instead of changing the King, I'd just destroy the chessboard.
The story is that he might try to take over the world by borrowing force that could lead to the extinction of humanity, just to keep his relationship with her undisturbed.
He thinks it's for her good.
In this age of war, killing a few people isn't even considered madness. In fact, it's a world filled with madness, where honorary medals, calculated based on the number of lives taken, adorn the chests of uniforms.
Murderers who should have been condemned as evil willingly became actors, playing leading roles on the stage of war, giving joy to monarchs and receiving praise and rewards.
Noah Rotsilt is a particularly madman among them. Like a brain Emperor, he wages a mad war of conquest, severing the lifespan of his nation for the mere pleasure of subjugating others.
Meanwhile, Admiral Winston Clare, having heard the news of Diana's escape, sat at his desk in his study, his hands folded in worry. His dignified, refined face was twisted in agony.
“It’s strange how often I fail.”
Celine and Diana's nanny, Janet, had her hands clasped together and her eyes lowered to her toes.
Having worked at the mansion the longest, she was one of the few who earned the admiral's trust due to her unique intelligence. She also served as the admiral's secretary and frequently ran secret errands.
“I kept it because I thought it might be useful, but I never thought it would cause me this much trouble.”
"There's a story that it was Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal who broke her out. He was a man with black hair and a military uniform, and he was said to be of similar height and build."
Janet continued speaking calmly. The admiral's blue eyes, which had been staring into space, turned to her.
“Then is it possible that even the Prime Minister knows?”
"It's possible the Lieutenant Colonel spoke to his brother privately. The Prime Minister doesn't seem to know. If so, he wouldn't have kept quiet. And as you know, this isn't something that can be easily revealed."
"That's right. Not everyone will be safe, so even Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal can't reveal it."
The Admiral recalled the negotiation message Colonel Rotsilt had sent after he had kidnapped Diana.
"Give up all your thoughts, I promise to keep quiet."
It meant that he knew everything but would keep quiet.
However, the admiral could only think of one reason for leaving Celine behind and taking only Diana, so he hired a mercenary to kill her.
“Do you think there was another reason for Colonel Rotsilt’s intention in taking Diana?”
“There is no disagreement.”
When Janet answered the admiral's question with a slight bow, a deep wrinkle of worry appeared between the admiral's neat brows.
“Why does he talk as if he knows everything?”
"He was originally a soldier who excelled in that field... but now he's said to have committed treason within Frogen and fled. It seems he's attempted to usurp the imperial power."
"No."
The admiral, who was tapping his fingers on the desk with a dull sound, clenched and unclenched his teeth repeatedly.
"Even if we don't know who broke her out, the one currently holding Diana is clearly Colonel Rotsilt, that mad Duke. He's probably trying to seize the vast colonies and powerful Medea United Kingdom for himself."
That can't be right, that guy's out of his mind. Who wouldn't be crazy at this point?
Admiral, you exploited people to gain power, but this man seeks the exact opposite. That's why Duke Rotsilt didn't reveal the truth to Medea and seek help. He only wanted it for himself. Janet hummed to herself, bowing her head unmoved.
She thought about taking a break from writing for a while, thinking back to the distant past when all this causality began and the original sin occurred.
Through my narrowed eyelids, I glimpsed the unfamiliar landscape of the room and its cream-colored ceiling. A warm, floating sensation floated across my back. I felt like I was in some mansion. The recent events seemed like a bad nightmare, and I felt a sense of relief, but I tried to get up.
But my body, so sore from the pain of a cold that I couldn't even move a finger, forced me to face the reality of everything. I've been to prison and escaped from prison.
Through the window curtains, I could see a sullen, gray sky, as if it were about to snow. Judging by the lack of morning air, it must have been afternoon.
“Where am I?”
“My friend’s house.”
Lying in bed, I muttered to myself, and a soft voice answered. Turning my stiff neck, I looked toward the source of the voice. I saw Noah sitting in an ash chair next to the bed, just as he had always done.
This guy... had friends?
He wore an ivory shirt and an olive-colored military cardigan, and his face was covered in bandages. His clouded eyes, still slightly lingering from yesterday's bleak, murderous look, gazed down at me with affection.
“I thought you were dead. You wouldn’t wake up.”
It's often said fondly that I slept like the dead. As my dulled senses returned, I realized he had been holding my hand the whole time.
I also had a random thought: "You must have been holding onto it from the car until now, right?"
A woman who appeared to be a maid brought bread and soup and left, and instead of handing me a spoon and fork, Noah took a spoonful of soup and blew on it.
I had to lean back against the headboard and eat the meal he fed me for the first time in a long while. Every time the soup touched my chapped lips, I frowned, feeling a stinging sensation.
“What area is this?”
“The North. North Calz.”
Even if you don't hear it, the name itself evokes the feeling of a cold region. Even when I'm wrapped in warm quilted pajamas and buried under the covers, I shiver from the cold.
Noah put the back of his hand on my pale cheek.
"Cold?"
“Yes. It seems a bit cold in this neighborhood.”
“Yeah. And I think the Princess has a cold.”
The pounding headache, body aches, and chills were all traces of a cold. While small, my body was naturally strong. Having survived the harsh winters with just a worn-out blanket, I should be able to withstand the cold, but I must have overdone it.
Putting aside the fact that I'm sick, I need to ask about things I haven't been able to ask because I'm tired.
"But Noah, isn't Medea allied with Frogen? We've probably been wanted. What if they forcibly repatriate us?"
“The Queen is closer to me. She lived in my house for a few months when I was young.”
But then, wouldn't that country and Frogen be at odds? Thinking about international diplomacy gives me a headache. Anyway, Noah seems to have more connections than I thought.
“Really? How long does it take to get there?”
“It’ll take a while because we have to go back. We should leave when you get over your cold.”
I slowly withdrew my hand and rubbed my bandaged forehead. I still had a slight fever. When would I ever get better?
Knock knock.
A knock was heard, and a tall, middle-aged man with a sturdy appearance, dressed in a wine-colored home robe, entered. He smiled kindly. He stroked his neatly trimmed mustache and began to speak.
"Colonel Rotsilt. The Central Army battalion will be leaving here in three days, so you should stay at my mansion until then."
“Yeah. I’m discharged now. I’m not a colonel.”
The age difference is also something to consider, and they don't seem like friends at all. Perhaps because he's from the land of courtesy in the East, Noah's attitude of being half-respectful to an older person is confusing.
The man who had been looking at Noah smiled at me with his wrinkled eyes wide and affectionate.
"Discharged, you still love a good joke. I hope you return safely, Miss Diana. God bless you."
"Going back?" What do you mean? I've never been to Medea before. The man who spoke to me in an unfamiliar tone seemed to have a quick temper, as he stormed out of the room before I could even hear his thanks.
I didn't realize it when I was in the city center or the port city, but the gloomy scenery outside the window made me realize that we were in the middle of a war.
Lines of soldiers in full gear were often seen, and civilians went about their lives with tense faces.
The floor was littered with colorful propaganda papers, and people were marching holding picket signs with slanderous messages against the enemy.
It seems similar to the World War that I had in my life, but I don't know if it was the First or Second World War.
It seems like a haphazard mix of 19th and early 20th-century scenes. Perhaps technological advancements were too rapid for the times? Perhaps it's the artist's influence.
Hyperinflation might soon hit, with a single loaf of bread costing 20 million won. My anxiety was growing, so I quickly shook my head to shake it off.
“But what are our plans for the future?”
At my question, Noah ran a hand through his jet-black hair and let out a deep sigh.
“Please wait for marriage. You need to find a rich husband.”
He wore the dismayed expression of a man whose postponed marriage was because he had been blocked by the wall of reality. The word "marriage" made my face flush involuntarily.
No, that's not what I was asking.
In a world of traitors, fugitives, and total war, you might wonder if romance is even possible... But seeing that even in the midst of war, love blossoms, marriages occur, and children are born, it seems like it's not impossible.
“I’m satisfied as long as I have a place to settle down and live.”
"Yes. Diana, I'll give you everything you need. I can even give you the world."
Noah lowered his eyes and answered in a languid voice. I nodded, as if entranced by his presence.
Did he ever say something so unrealistic? It was a strange thing to say, yet it was pleasant to hear. It was all because of his captivating face and sweet voice. I avoided his gaze for no reason and stared at the carpet on the floor.
Yeah, it'll work out somehow.
***
The mad Duke's abandonment and departure were only the beginning of his madness.
The buildings housing the factory, munitions factory, and Third Engineering Department, located on the former estate of Duke Frogen Rotsilt, suddenly exploded. Citizens who heard the explosions rocking the buildings the night before, thinking it was an enemy invasion and artillery fire, trembled in fear all night, and the military and police were urgently dispatched.
Commander Rockefeller, who went to the scene himself, sighed as he looked at the flames rising like an active volcano and the flames fiercely engulfing the surrounding area.
“So that’s what you were thinking after all?”
This was a provocation and a warning to the Emperor. Noah must have known that the Frogen side had recently issued a warrant for a woman named Diana.
This was a silent warning that the next stop would be the Imperial Palace. This was where military corruption was being investigated, and the Emperor's reason for ordering the investigation was obvious.
The new military business of the former Duke.
All relevant documents were missing, and his secretary, who had consistently denied knowing anything, suddenly vanished. The former second lieutenant who had been shot while working as a maid and spying on Noah also vanished.
The Emperor is desperate to capture him, as he may provide military weapons and intelligence developed by him to other Allied or Federal nations to check the Frogen's hegemony.
To prevent this, the Emperor could have overlooked the antics of the hot-blooded young man, but he made a mistake, prioritizing his own authority over others.
Certainly, Noah is a man capable of such a thing. He only wants Diana, a woman, and wants no one else to touch her.
The Commander knows Noah very well, having watched him since he was a child. He lacks empathy for others and doesn't know how to love.
Only with outstanding observation and insight skills could he understand the thoughts of others, and through socialization, through knowledge, common sense, and education, he was able to act based on that and live together without any problems.
His thoughts aren't on the level of assassinating the Emperor or changing the regime. They're always going way beyond what ordinary people think.
“Are you planning to start the project that Frogen failed on Medea?”
The conclusion he reached after much thought was this: Yes, instead of changing the King, I'd just destroy the chessboard.
The story is that he might try to take over the world by borrowing force that could lead to the extinction of humanity, just to keep his relationship with her undisturbed.
He thinks it's for her good.
In this age of war, killing a few people isn't even considered madness. In fact, it's a world filled with madness, where honorary medals, calculated based on the number of lives taken, adorn the chests of uniforms.
Murderers who should have been condemned as evil willingly became actors, playing leading roles on the stage of war, giving joy to monarchs and receiving praise and rewards.
Noah Rotsilt is a particularly madman among them. Like a brain Emperor, he wages a mad war of conquest, severing the lifespan of his nation for the mere pleasure of subjugating others.
***
Meanwhile, Admiral Winston Clare, having heard the news of Diana's escape, sat at his desk in his study, his hands folded in worry. His dignified, refined face was twisted in agony.
“It’s strange how often I fail.”
Celine and Diana's nanny, Janet, had her hands clasped together and her eyes lowered to her toes.
Having worked at the mansion the longest, she was one of the few who earned the admiral's trust due to her unique intelligence. She also served as the admiral's secretary and frequently ran secret errands.
“I kept it because I thought it might be useful, but I never thought it would cause me this much trouble.”
"There's a story that it was Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal who broke her out. He was a man with black hair and a military uniform, and he was said to be of similar height and build."
Janet continued speaking calmly. The admiral's blue eyes, which had been staring into space, turned to her.
“Then is it possible that even the Prime Minister knows?”
"It's possible the Lieutenant Colonel spoke to his brother privately. The Prime Minister doesn't seem to know. If so, he wouldn't have kept quiet. And as you know, this isn't something that can be easily revealed."
"That's right. Not everyone will be safe, so even Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal can't reveal it."
The Admiral recalled the negotiation message Colonel Rotsilt had sent after he had kidnapped Diana.
"Give up all your thoughts, I promise to keep quiet."
It meant that he knew everything but would keep quiet.
However, the admiral could only think of one reason for leaving Celine behind and taking only Diana, so he hired a mercenary to kill her.
“Do you think there was another reason for Colonel Rotsilt’s intention in taking Diana?”
“There is no disagreement.”
When Janet answered the admiral's question with a slight bow, a deep wrinkle of worry appeared between the admiral's neat brows.
“Why does he talk as if he knows everything?”
"He was originally a soldier who excelled in that field... but now he's said to have committed treason within Frogen and fled. It seems he's attempted to usurp the imperial power."
"No."
The admiral, who was tapping his fingers on the desk with a dull sound, clenched and unclenched his teeth repeatedly.
"Even if we don't know who broke her out, the one currently holding Diana is clearly Colonel Rotsilt, that mad Duke. He's probably trying to seize the vast colonies and powerful Medea United Kingdom for himself."
That can't be right, that guy's out of his mind. Who wouldn't be crazy at this point?
Admiral, you exploited people to gain power, but this man seeks the exact opposite. That's why Duke Rotsilt didn't reveal the truth to Medea and seek help. He only wanted it for himself. Janet hummed to herself, bowing her head unmoved.
She thought about taking a break from writing for a while, thinking back to the distant past when all this causality began and the original sin occurred.
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