Sir, the estimated civilian casualties number around two thousand, not including combat soldiers—an entire squad has perished.
The king’s eyes sharpened; his hands clenched tightly, leaving red marks on his palms.
“Is that all?” he asked coldly.
“Sir, the on-duty and control squad is Squad 2!”
He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping rhythmically. A whisper came from behind:
“Orders received, completion requested within twelve hours!”
Twelve hours, over sixty people—some no longer breathing, others paralyzed and helpless.
The entire Squad 2 was considered lost while performing their duty.
“Sir, every measure has been taken, but there is no traitor within Squad 2.”
“That’s enough. I do not want to prolong this matter. This is an accident… Remember that.”
“Understood!”
That night, he walked slowly to the princess’s room; his footsteps echoed down the hallway like a verdict. He knocked on Airi’s door.
“Knock knock! It’s me, Yukihana Dairoku.”
Silence behind the door—no sound at all.
“Listen, someday you will rule this kingdom. You cannot stay weak forever. The fire that day was just a spark. If you cannot extinguish it, the fire behind it will consume you entirely.”
His voice was firm, unwavering.
But Dairoku did not know that her heart seemed stained red—the color of fire, the color of blood. Nothing could wash away that red. It was the color of grief, of wounds that would never heal.
He wanted her to be stronger, but she was just a small white spark, thrown into a sea of flames with no way back.
Facing a truth filled only with pain.
Outside the door was a thick, suffocating gloom. Inside was no better—a black veil covered the entire room, as if even the light feared to linger.
At the princess’s feet was a wound from the explosion— a long, thin scratch, burning with pain. Yes, it would leave a scar—not just on her skin but etched deeply into her memory. A scar marking that day’s sorrow.
But now… she felt no pain anymore.
Only emptiness.
Emptiness crept into her like black ink spreading from her heart. Airi’s vacant eyes lowered to the indefinite space below her feet. She sat curled in a corner, hugging her knees tightly as if shrinking herself could hide her from the chaos.
Screams echoed inside her mind.
Not cries of pain. Not groans after the accident. These were screams from the one who had once given her peace… the only one. A voice roaring with anger and hatred:
“You bastard, what have you done…?”
The last words. The last words from the friend she trusted.
Absurd. Painfully absurd.
That princess—sixteen years of life spent only on swordsmanship and politics—what was it all for? No one was passionate about those things. Rigid, dull, unlike any princess from the fairy tales she had read. She once wished to be like them… but that dream had turned to dust.
Her colorless heart… had been dyed red.
Not the red of roses.
But the red of blood. The red of obsession and sorrow. Burning away parts of her heart. Not blazing fiercely but smoldering, leaving blackened, painful scars.
One month later, she was transferred to a new school. New class, new people. Another chance to start over. She knew no matter how much it hurt, she had to keep taking steps forward.
And this time… even though they knew she was a princess, they approached her willingly.
“Are you the princess of the whole kingdom?”
Whispers behind her. She had become the hot topic again.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
But she was used to that. As a princess, those looks were everyday. Only… this time, she had a vague feeling—things might be different.
She nodded lightly. The students moved closer.
“Do you have to learn lots of etiquette?”
“I heard you were great at swordsmanship at your old school, right?”
“Can we be friends from now on?”
She was startled.
Looking up, she caught the bright smile on that face. A hand extended—gentle, sincere—waiting for Airi to take it.
For the first time… her heart beat so fast.
Though prepared for a thousand situations, she had never felt this way. But the thing making her heart race was not excitement or emotion. It was fire. An invisible flame rising, engulfing her dry, cracked heart.
Her vision darkened. Dizziness overwhelmed her.
She never reached out to that hand.
Her body collapsed to the floor—the sounds around her faded away. Only the faint echo of a burning heart remained.
Dim lights. Cold air engulfed the room.
Airi slowly opened her heavy eyelids. She no longer wanted to open them.
“Can… can this just go on like this…” she muttered.
In the school infirmary, her thoughts floated like thick fog. She wanted to remain like this—still, motionless, not facing anything anymore. She did not want to die… but had no will to live either.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible, miss.”
A hoarse voice came from the far left corner of the bed. An older man with a white beard and silver hair. She flinched—her heart skipped a beat. For a moment, she thought he was her father.
She looked at him. He looked back.
“You don’t seem to know me. Allow me to introduce myself. Kujou Genzou. I have protected you and your mother since before you were born.”
“…Why are you here?”
Genzou stood. Tall, sturdy figure. From the shoulders down, no one would guess his aged face.
“By order of your father, I am here to support you. I hear… since the accident, you have been somewhat weary.”
“Please do not bother me.”
Airi got off the bed. Her cold feet touched the floor. Genzou said nothing more, just looked her in the eye and nodded softly.
**
The hallway to the classroom was crowded. Airi stood still. She didn’t know what to do or where to go. The space wasn’t very big… but if it was a small step forward—maybe she would try.
Click—the classroom door opened.
“Yukihana! Are you feeling better?”
It was the girl who had shaken her hand before. That face. That smile. Airi’s heart seemed painted red by those hands—the smoldering fire flared again. She hugged her chest. The other girl seemed clueless.
Airi turned away, avoiding that gaze.
Perhaps… her heart was now fully engulfed by the blazing flame. Nothing could withstand that heat. She did not want it to happen again. Just once more… and this heart, no matter how cold before, would be nothing but ashes.
She didn’t know what was targeting her. But she chose to isolate herself from everyone—to protect others… and to protect her own heart.
**
In class, whispers began to rise.
Not all were cruel—but few were genuinely kind. Some uttered harsh words. Some inserted half-hearted “opinions” just to spice up gossip.
Over two months passed. Day by day.
The words grew harsher. Day by day.
Day by day—Airi endured judging stares.
They said she had abandoned her friend. Run away. Hid.
And so it went… day by day.
“That’s fair… She left her behind. Couldn’t do anything…”
Her thoughts thickened. Became heavier. Scarier.
Under a gray-heavy sky, Airi and Genzou were on their way home after school. Nothing unusual—familiar roads, murmurs of emotions from people around still echoing in her mind. But inside that car, only one color existed.
Genzou glanced at the rearview mirror. Airi sat silently, hands clenched on her knees, eyes fixed on the car floor.
“What are you looking for under my car?”
She looked up slightly, eyes unconsciously meeting his in the mirror—so easy to let go of something when looking into those eyes.
“Have you ever hurt anyone?”
“I don’t quite know what ‘hurt’ means… but probably, yes, miss.”
“Then… do you feel pain?”
A pause. Then he answered softly, as if afraid of his own words:
“Yes, miss.”
The car sank into silence. A tear slowly rolled down Airi’s cheek.
“I want… to paint a different color.”
Genzou looked at her through the mirror, his gaze deepening.
“KIITT—”
Both jerked forward. The car stopped abruptly. Ahead, a boy about Airi’s age sat on the road, hands on the ground, breathing heavily.
Genzou opened the door and stepped out; the door clicked softly.
“Boy, can you stand up?”
From the back seat, Airi looked forward. She had never seen that boy—certainly never. Yet somehow… her heart felt it could hear his heartbeat.
She hugged her chest. A slight ache spread, as if the flame inside was smoldering… this time unable to flare.
“Seems everything’s alright. Sorry for the scare,” Genzou said.
The car door softly shut. He sat back behind the wheel.
“Let’s continue, miss.”
Airi turned her head, watching the boy stand. Her hand still clutching the heart once stained—only to find it still pure white.
Time passed quietly. Airi met that boy again—unfortunately, only brave enough to watch from behind.
He was a new student at the academy, but unlike Airi, he did not enter by royal status. He had to pass a selection exam to enter this prestigious school.
Airi shared classes with him. For the first time in her life, she wanted to talk to someone this much—wanted to know what kind of person he was. The one who made her heart… beat steady.
Ironically, she didn’t know how to start the conversation. Though in the same class, same grade.
Her footsteps quickened—not hurried, as if led by her heart. For the first time, she chose heart over reason. And that heart brought her to his classroom.
“Is that you?” she asked.
“Are you the one who got hit by my car before?”
“My name is Airi Yukihana.”
“Sorry… about last time…”
She spoke quickly, not letting him react. He just sat there, dazed, not understanding what was happening.
She was afraid—afraid her heart would be burned again. Once more drowned in red flames. But this time… she believed he would help extinguish it.
At least… she wanted to believe that. Wanted that more than anything. After all, she had summoned all her determination.
But then, that sudden sharp pain—the unexpected agony—clenched her heart again.
The boy’s shout echoed. Whispers rose. But now, she only wanted to close her eyes tight.
…
When she woke, Airi found herself lying on Genzou’s shoulder. He took her home.
The way back was no longer the same—why was it so long…
The familiar small room suddenly felt gloomy.
The classroom, once so close, now seemed another world.
The faint light in her heart… had completely sunk into darkness.
…
The next day, Airi still went to class. But this time, alone. Avoiding all eyes. Her small hands only knew to clasp each other—trembling, shy, as if wanting to hide herself away.
