Master

Liliana sat stiffly, her hands clenched into fists on her lap.

Her adoptive father, Marquis Evermont, paced in front of her, his expression twisted with anger.

"You're useless!" he snapped. "Completely useless!"

Liliana bit her lip, lowering her gaze. She had expected this reaction the moment she told him about the northern expedition.

"You're telling me," the marquis continued, his voice dripping with frustration, "that you begged the emperor to reconsider, and all he said was that it was 'fine'?"

Liliana nodded slowly, forcing herself to remain composed. "Yes, Father. He said nothing major would happen."

The marquis scoffed, running a hand through his graying hair. "Nothing major? Do you know how much this expedition will cost? Do you know how many soldiers will be stationed there?"

Liliana didn't answer. She knew. Of course, she knew.

The northern plains were harsh, cold, and dangerous. Bandits, barbarians, and wild beasts roamed freely. It was a miserable place, and now her family was being forced to take responsibility for it.

All because of Diana.

Her fists tightened further. That foolish empress!

No, not just foolish—hateful.

Liliana had done everything. Everything.

She had secured her place in the palace. She had given birth to an older son for Cassian, ensuring that her child had a claim to the throne. She had been the one in his arms for years, yet still—Diana remained.

Why?

Why wouldn't she just disappear?

"I told you," the marquis said sharply, breaking her thoughts, "that you had one job—to secure the emperor's heart completely. Yet here we are, forced to clean up after that woman's mess."

Liliana inhaled deeply, steadying herself.

It wasn't as if she hadn't tried.

She had played the perfect, loving woman—the poor, pitiful commoner who only wanted to love her emperor. She had given him everything—her affection, her devotion, her body.

She had given him sons!

Yet Diana still held power.

It was because of her blood, wasn't it?

That wretched noble blood!

Unlike Diana, Liliana was born a commoner. And even now, some aristocratic factions mocked her children, whispering that they were half-breeds.

Some of them even supported that incompetent, useless child—Lucien.

That brat was sickly. Weak. Yet because he was born from Diana, he was still seen as a legitimate candidate for the throne.

Liliana clenched her jaw.

She was prettier than Diana.

More desirable.

More beloved by Cassian.

So why?

Why was Diana still here?

"Enough," the marquis finally said, rubbing his temples. "Go back and make sure Cassian stays on your side. If you can't even do that, then don't bother calling yourself my daughter."

Liliana felt a sting in her chest.

It wasn't the first time he had spoken to her this way, but it still hurt.

She had been adopted into the Evermont family for a reason—to secure a connection with the imperial family. Her worth had always been tied to how well she could manipulate Cassian.

If she lost him, she lost everything.

"Yes, Father," she murmured, bowing her head before rising to her feet.

The moment she stepped out of his office, her entire body felt numb.

She walked through the halls like a ghost, ignoring the frightened looks of the servants. The moment she entered her chambers, she let the mask slip.

With a furious scream, she grabbed the nearest porcelain vase and hurled it at the floor.

The sharp shatter echoed through the room.

The maids trembled, but none dared to stop her.

Liliana swept her arm across the vanity, sending perfumes, cosmetics, and delicate ornaments crashing to the ground.

Why?

Why was everything going wrong?

She had won. She had already won!

Yet Diana still clung to her position, still held that cold, untouchable power over Cassian.

Liliana panted heavily, her chest rising and falling as her rage slowly subsided.

Her trembling fingers smoothed down her dress. Her expression, once twisted with fury, softened.

Tonight…

Tonight, at least, she would have Cassian.

She had won again.

Taking a deep breath, she adjusted her hair and waited.

Not long after, the emperor arrived.

The moment Cassian stepped into her chambers, Liliana transformed.

She softened her features, her lips curving into a delicate smile as she stepped toward him.

"Your Majesty," she whispered, leaning into his chest, her fingers lightly tracing the fabric of his robe.

Cassian wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. His grip was firm, familiar.

Liliana tilted her head up. "How was your day?"

Cassian sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Busy. The court was filled with useless chatter again."

Liliana smiled. "That must have been tiring."

He hummed in agreement, his fingers brushing against her back. "And you? How was your day?"

Liliana's expression dimmed slightly, but she forced a small smile. "I was scolded by my father."

Cassian frowned. "For what?"

"For not doing enough," she murmured, looking away. "He was angry about the northern expedition."

Cassian's grip on her tightened briefly before he exhaled. "It can't be helped. The decision has already been made."

Liliana hesitated.

This was her chance to plead with him again, to beg him to change his mind. But before she could say anything, Cassian continued.

"Raizel spoke in court today," he said, his voice quieter than before.

Liliana froze.

The mere mention of that woman's family name made her stomach turn.

"What did he say?"

Cassian hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Like Diana said, he didn't say much. He only pointed out that the Hinsdales are stationed in the west, while the Evermonts are closer to the north."

Liliana's nails dug into her palm. "And that was enough to convince everyone?"

Cassian let out a small chuckle, but it lacked warmth. "It was simple logic. Even the neutral ministers agreed."

Liliana's heart pounded.

So that was it?

Diana didn't even need to argue or scheme. They simply pointed out a fact, and everyone sided with them.

Liliana clenched her teeth.

That woman…

That woman didn't even need to try, and she still won.

Cassian must have noticed the tension in her body because he gently stroked her back. "Don't worry too much," he murmured. "Everything will be fine."

Liliana forced a smile and leaned into his embrace.

"Of course," she whispered.

She needed to remind herself—

She still had Cassian.

Diana might still be the empress in name, but Liliana was the one in his arms.

She had won.

*****

The so-called incompetent empress lay sprawled in the empty training hall, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. The cold stone floor beneath her was a sharp contrast to the burning ache in her muscles. The torches on the walls flickered, casting long shadows, but Diana paid them no mind.

With a groan, she pulled herself up again, gripping the hilt of her sword tightly. Her arms shook, her fingers barely able to hold on.

Only two hundred swings.

A measly two hundred, and her body was already failing her.

Diana looked down at her hands. The skin on her palms was torn, raw and bleeding. Each movement sent a sharp pain up her arms, but she refused to stop.

How pathetic.

How was she supposed to fight like this?

How was she supposed to protect Lucien if she couldn't even handle basic training?

She exhaled sharply and adjusted her stance, raising the sword again. Under the pale moonlight filtering through the high windows, she swung. Again. And again.

If Cassian were here, he would have recognized her movements immediately.

Imperial Swordsmanship.

Not just the standard techniques taught to knights, but the true, perfected form.

Diana's grip tightened as memories surged forward.

A man.

A familiar, infuriating man with wild black hair and sharp emerald eyes.

The first time she met him, she had been half-dead in the snow.

---

The wind howled across the frozen wasteland, stinging her skin like a thousand needles. She couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

Her body was broken, her fingers curled uselessly in the frost. Blood seeped into the snow around her, melting it into a dark crimson slush.

She was going to die here.

She knew it.

She had barely closed her eyes when a heavy boot nudged her side.

"Still alive, brat?"

Diana forced her eyes open.

A man stood over her, silhouetted against the endless white. His black hair was messy, unkempt, falling past his shoulders. His sharp, emerald eyes gleamed with something close to amusement. A thick cloak wrapped around his broad shoulders, and at his waist hung a worn but deadly-looking sword.

She didn't know him.

But she recognized that sword.

Imperial.

A royal sword.

"You look pathetic," he continued, crouching down to get a better look at her. "No wonder they threw you out."

Diana wanted to speak, to tell him to go to hell, but her lips were frozen.

The man smirked. "Well, no use letting you die here. Let's see if you've got any worth."

Then, without warning, he grabbed her by the collar and hauled her to her feet.

Pain shot through her entire body.

She barely had a second to react before he threw her.

One moment, she was in his grip—

The next, she was crashing into solid ground.

Diana gasped, coughing violently as she struggled to push herself up.

What… just happened?

She looked up, her vision swimming, and froze.

Around her, dark figures moved.

Low growls echoed in the air.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Monsters.

Their glowing red eyes locked onto her, hungry and waiting.

A den.

He had thrown her into a monster den.

That lunatic.

"Survive," the man's voice rang out from above, full of amusement. "If you do, maybe I'll teach you something."

Diana barely had time to scream before the creatures lunged.

---

Diana let out a small, breathy laugh at the memory, wiping the sweat from her brow.

That bastard.

That was her first encounter with him.

Cassian's 'dead' uncle.

The younger brother of the previous emperor.

The infamous disgrace of the royal family.

The drunkard. The troublemaker. The lunatic who was thrown out of the palace for being 'uncontrollable.'

A monster in human skin.

But also—

The only true master of Imperial Swordsmanship.

The one who perfected its form. The one who could drink a barrel of ale and still outmaneuver an entire squad of knights. The one who laughed in the face of war, turning battlefields into playgrounds.

And, at the very end—

The one who died protecting her.

Diana exhaled, gripping her sword tighter.

That was in her past life.

Now, she was five years back in time.

And she had no idea where he was.

He was supposed to be dead. But right now, in this timeline, he was still out there. Somewhere.

The thought made her heart clench.

If he were here now, he would laugh at her weakness.

Call her pathetic.

Tell her to get up and swing the sword properly.

She swallowed hard, blinking up at the night sky.

Lucien.

She had to get stronger.

For Lucien.

For herself.

She would get stronger.

Even if it killed her.

Taking a deep breath, she steadied her stance.

Then, she swung again.