Chapter 2 · The Overturned World

About 200 years ago, the Kingdom of Karhailen, located on the western frontier of the Rastain Empire.

There existed beings who wore human form but could not be called human.

Breathtaking beauty and a strange power to bewitch people.

It was said that one look made you drunk and two looks stopped your heart, and so people called them that.

Also known as ‘Hwa-in (Flower People).’

It was a name given to them for resembling flowers in human form.

But the essence hidden behind that lavish beauty was ultimately one thing.

Addiction.

A power deeper than pleasure, more absolute than faith, and lasting longer than death.

A power that could incapacitate an opponent without sword or weapon, and in the end drive them to death.

The beauty of the Hwa-in was both a blessing and the cruelest curse in the world.

Even Rastain, the hegemon of the continent, feared them, who had been nothing but a small frontier kingdom.

Because they feared them, they conquered them.

It did not take long for the name Karhailen to be erased from the maps.

The kingdom was swallowed by flames, and the screams of the Hwa-in faded into the back alleys of history.

But perhaps because their abilities were too precious to kill them all.

The surviving Hwa-in began to be traded like objects, not humans.

To the bedrooms of Rastain nobles, as spoils of war, or as secret goods in black markets.

In that way, the Hwa-in were sold throughout the empire, and before long came to be called ‘human drugs.’

Two hundred years later, in Year 319 of the Imperial Calendar, on the birthday of a certain princess.

Erhan Karhilen.

He launched a coup and brought down the Rastain Empire.

With no proper army, leading only two men, he captured the imperial palace and assassinated the emperor.

There was only one reason that was possible.

While most Hwa-in could intoxicate only one person, Erhan could intoxicate hundreds, thousands at once.

At a single whisper from him, the imperial guard turned their swords toward their master’s heart, and wherever his feet touched, the intoxication spread like plague.

The hierarchy between humans and Hwa-in, which had seemed eternal, was overturned in a single night, and Erhan Karhilen finally made himself emperor of Rastain.

* * *

A week passed.

The room was dreadfully quiet, but inside Isadel’s head was utterly chaotic.

“Welcome to hell.”

That one sentence Erhan had left behind circled her ears day and night.

“That wretched bastard…”

Isadel gripped the crown in her hand as if to crush it.

The intricately crafted metal spikes dug mercilessly into her palm.

Had she fallen to a foreign invasion or a nobles’ coup, it would not have been this humiliating.

For the Rastain Empire, which had reigned for 300 years, to collapse at the hands of a mere slave.

Could there be any greater disgrace in the world?

Isadel closed her eyes and retraced her memories.

When had it begun?

That the bastard began dreaming of treason.

Was it from the moment he crawled into the imperial palace?

Or from the night his mother was killed?

How long had that lowly creature been sharpening his blade to bring her down?

Crash!

The crown hurled against the wall shattered to pieces.

Emerald fragments scattered in all directions.

“Hah, that filthy mouth dares speak of hell to me?”

A sound that might have been laughter or weeping leaked from between Isadel’s lips.

“Fine, just try it. It will never go your way.”

The room was soon covered in sharp sounds of breaking.

It was the servants who suffered from the princess who would lie still like a corpse and then suddenly turn the room into a wreck.

The maids waiting outside the door with cleaning tools muttered lowly.

“It’s starting again.”

“That’s the third time today already.”

“Leave her be. I’d go mad too.”

One maid who looked especially insolent among them snorted.

“Ugh, look at her running wild. She still thinks she’s something.”

Then Roshe, who was beside her, snapped sharply.

“Watch your mouth. You’re in front of Her Highness the Princess.”

The maid pouted her lips.

“Honestly, she’s not even a princess anymore.”

“…What do you mean by that?”

Roshe’s eyes narrowed.

“You’ve heard the rumors. Not only is she the deposed princess, but she’ll soon be demoted to a commoner—so doesn’t that mean her status is now lower than ours?”

“Right. Now she should be grateful just to have us serve her.”

The maids each added a word, mocking the fallen princess.

Roshe opened her mouth to scold the maids.

How dare they utter such outrageous words to Her Highness the Princess.

Did they all want to be dragged to the imperial underground prison?

But in the end she could not say anything.

She wanted to insist it was a lie.

She wanted to shut the maids’ mouths by calling it malicious nonsense.

But she could not.

Because it was true that Princess Isadel had become a criminal, and that the rumor she would soon be demoted to a commoner was also true.

In the end, Roshe had no choice but to bite her lip hard and stay silent.

* * *

The next morning.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Isadel, sprawled on the floor, opened her eyes at the dull noise.

“Noisy from the morning.”

She soon furrowed her brow and closed her eyes again.

Sleeping on the floor despite a perfectly good bed was purely her stubborn pride.

Originally, Isadel could hardly fall asleep unless it was on the finest bed imported from the Kingdom of Hairvan.

She was eccentric enough to have the same bed transported even when traveling to the outskirts, because she found it uncomfortable to sleep in a different place.

But now, even such sensitivity had long since become a luxury.

She had become someone who had to sleep wherever she was, however her eyes closed.

In these small changes, she felt her downfall to the bone.

Moments later, the door burst open without warning.

The maids discovered the princess collapsed on the floor and hastily stopped.

Jet-black hair and skin pale as death.

Red bloodstains were spread here and there over the pure white dress, and shattered emerald pieces were scattered all around.

It was a wretched sight, yet even so, Isadel radiated a sorrowful beauty like an oil painting.

Then slowly she lifted her eyelids.

“What.”

“We will have you dressed and prepared, Your Highness. Please get up.”

At Roshe’s low voice, her lips twisted.

“Prepared for what… There’s nowhere for me to go.”

When Isadel did not move at all, another maid snapped irritably.

“An order came down to have the deposed princess dressed and prepared and brought within an hour.”

The moment the title ‘deposed princess’ fell, Isadel’s fierce gaze pierced the maid.

The air in the room froze in an instant.

The maid who had spoken fearlessly flinched, as if realizing her mistake too late.

The others also instinctively held their breath.

They had momentarily forgotten.

Just what kind of person Princess Isadel was.

She was cruel enough to whip a maid for stepping on the hem of her dress, and to hang an attendant on the castle wall for a week for speaking ill of her behind her back.

Though she may have lost her authority as princess, that fierce gaze alone was still enough to bring people to their knees.

At the end of the tightly drawn silence, Isadel murmured lowly.

“So, where did they say to bring me? The pyre?”

It did not particularly matter where.

Whether the pyre or the guillotine, she had already resigned herself to death.

But the answer that came back neatly defied Isadel’s expectations.

“Today His Imperial Majesty’s coronation will be held. There was an order that Princess Isadel must attend as well.”

Her eyelids trembled finely.

She should have just been called to the pyre.

Even if she were to burn alive and become ash, she could have met death while preserving her last dignity as a princess.

But Erhan was not the kind of man to permit even that much mercy.

Not content with slaughtering her father and brothers, he was now trying to stand her up at his own coronation.

His intention was clear.

He meant to place her, a captive, at his feet like a trophy and flaunt his victory before everyone.

“Hah…”

A hollow laugh burst from between Isadel’s lips.

“In the end, you make me a sacrifice and climb to that seat.”