The following day, Karl summoned Lucian.

  Lucian arrived at the grand doors of Karl’s office. As he reached for the handle, a flood of painful memories surged through him. This was the very place where his fate was sealed years ago.

  Before he could step inside, another presence appeared.

  Elsa.

  For a moment, time stood still.

  Elsa’s eyes widened—she hadn’t seen him this close in years. Her lips trembled as if she wanted to speak, to embrace him, to beg for forgiveness.

  But she didn’t.

  Lucian’s lips curled into a smirk. His voice was sharp as a blade.

  “I greet the one and only Moon of the Kingdom, Her Majesty the Queen.”

  Elsa flinched. His words were respectful—but his tone was laced with venom.

  Before she could respond, Karl’s voice echoed from inside.

  “Come in.”

  Lucian entered the office. Karl sat behind his desk, his piercing gaze locked onto him.

  Lucian bowed mockingly. “I greet the one and only Sun of the Kingdom.”

  Karl’s voice was cold. “Get up.”

  Lucian straightened.

  “So, you want a reward?”

  Lucian smirked. “Yes.”

  In the next moment, Karl moved.

  SLAP!

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  The force of Karl’s hand sent Lucian crashing to the floor.

  Elsa gasped. Adios tensed.

  Lucian tasted blood in his mouth.

  Karl stood over him, his face twisted with fury.

  “You are alive. Isn’t that the greatest reward you could ask for?”

  Lucian clenched his jaw.

  “And now… you dare ask for more?”

  Elsa tried to rush to Lucian, but Karl’s glare froze her in place.

  Outside the door, Novel had arrived. He had come to see his father and brother—only to hear everything from the hallway.

  He couldn’t move.

  This was not the father he had known.

  Lucian, struggling to stand, placed his palm against the ground. Before he could regain his footing—

  Karl’s boot collided with his stomach.

  Lucian was sent flying into the bookshelf.

  The sound of books crashing down on him filled the room.

  Adios rushed forward. “Your Majesty—if this continues, the Third Prince will die.”

  Karl did not care. He marched forward, ready to strike again.

  Elsa screamed. “Lucian!!”

  Lucian’s head was bleeding. He lay motionless, his chest rising and falling weakly.

  Outside, Novel took a step back. He could hardly breathe.

  The father he idolized… was standing over his son, ready to kill him.

  Karl’s voice was void of emotion. “I don’t care whether he lives or dies.”

  Elsa sobbed, calling for the guards. “Take him to the royal doctor! Hurry!”

  The guards carried Lucian’s unconscious body away.

  Karl turned his back to them. “Tell him this—being alive is the only gift he will ever receive. And he will follow my orders without question.”

  That evening, Lucian woke up.

  His vision was hazy, his head pounding.

  A voice echoed in his mind.

  "Lucian, get up. Lucian… I’m sorry… Mother is sorry…”

  His eyes fluttered open. But it wasn’t Elsa.

  It was Chloe.

  “Lucian!” she cried out in relief. “You’re awake!”

  Lucian’s throat was dry. He tried to speak, but his body ached all over.

  Outside the door, two guards stood waiting.

  Karl’s order was absolute.

  The moment Lucian regained consciousness, he was to pack and leave for the North immediately.

  Chloe’s hands shook as she packed his belongings. She bit her lip to hold back tears.

  Lucian, still injured, had no choice but to comply.

  His bags were loaded onto a cart. His horse stood waiting.

  As he climbed onto his saddle, he turned his gaze toward the Empress’s palace.

  Not a single person stood there to pray for his safety.

  No goodbyes. No farewell.

  Only the cold night air.

  Lucian gripped the reins tightly.

  And without looking back—he rode toward the North.

  And so began the journey of a prince who was never meant to return.

  But fate had other plans.