The Weight of Regret

Diana sat on the edge of Lucien's bed, holding him close, her arms wrapped tightly around him. She could feel his small body pressed against hers, his warm breath calming her nerves, but her heart was still racing. His knees were scraped from the fall, a few droplets of blood staining the bed sheets, but Lucien had insisted it wasn't serious.

"I'm fine, Mother," Lucien reassured her, his voice soft and comforting, though his words couldn't ease the storm swirling inside her. She could feel the weight of her past, the memories of what she had failed to do for him—what she should have done.

"Lucien, I…" Diana choked on her words, unable to explain. The fear, the helplessness, it was too much. She wasn't sure what had taken over her, but the moment she had seen him with blood on his knees, a sudden panic gripped her chest. Her hands trembled as she stroked his hair, pulling him even closer.

Lucien looked up at her, his gray eyes full of concern, though he tried to smile. "It's okay, Mother. I'm really okay."

Diana shook her head, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over. "I'm sorry… I'm just so scared," she whispered.

Lucius, standing nearby with his arms crossed, watched the scene unfold with a furrowed brow. He'd been silent for most of the day, but the way Diana was clinging to Lucien now, the way her breath hitched every time he moved—it worried him.

"You're being reckless, Diana," Lucius said softly, his tone more concerned than reprimanding.

Diana didn't answer him. She couldn't. Lucius was right. She was being reckless. She had always been reckless when it came to Lucien.

She couldn't help herself.

"Mother, I'm really fine," Lucien repeated, sensing her distress. His tiny hand reached up to gently pat her arm, trying to comfort her. "It doesn't hurt that much."

Her breath hitched at his words. It doesn't hurt that much… but it was still blood.

She felt like she couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe because every time Lucien told her he was fine, she remembered how she had failed him before.

She had failed him so many times.

The memory surged within her, so vivid and raw it was like it had just happened yesterday.

Lucien, only eight years old at the time, had returned home with his arms covered in blood. Diana could still see it—the pale, shaking form of her son standing in the doorway, blood dripping from his sleeve, his small hands trying to hide the injury.

"Lucien," she had cried, rushing to him, but instead of focusing on his pain, she had turned her attention elsewhere.

"Mother, I'm fine," Lucien had said then too, his voice strained, but he was too young to understand that the moment he was in, was not about him anymore.

"Where are Roan and Elysian? Did they do this?" Diana had demanded, her voice sharp with anger.

Lucien had hesitated, then nodded softly. "They pushed me, but I'm okay—"

"I knew it," Diana had snapped, grabbing his arm roughly and dragging him toward the Emperor's office. "I'll make them pay. We'll make them pay."

At that moment, she hadn't cared about Lucien's bleeding arm. All that mattered was that she could use it as a weapon. It was an opportunity to strike at Liliana, to punish the children she had always seen as a threat to her son. She didn't even see the tears in Lucien's eyes as she pulled him along, only the fire of her hatred, the need to assert her place in the Empire.

She had been blinded by ambition, by the desire to push Liliana down.

When they reached the Emperor, Lucien had started to cry quietly, his small frame trembling, but Diana didn't see him. She only saw the chance to rise.

It wasn't the right thing to do.

Now, years later, Diana knew she had been wrong. She had been so wrong. She still remember that day.

Diana closed her eyes, feeling a weight settle on her chest.

It was another moment that replayed in her mind, one that haunted her even now.

Lucien, standing by her side in the Emperor's office, had begged the Emperor for mercy.

"Father, please don't—don't punish Mother," Lucien had pleaded, tears in his eyes, his small hands clutching the Emperor's robes.

But the Emperor had only looked at Diana with cold eyes. "You've crossed the line, Empress. You've gone too far."

Her heart had shattered in that moment. Lucien was begging for me. My son was begging for me…

But it wasn't enough. The Emperor's words had sentenced her to exile. She had been dragged away, her body cold and heavy, while Lucien stood there, watching in horror.

"Mother!" Lucien had cried, but Diana hadn't been able to reach him.

She had promised herself she would return to atone for everything, but it had been too late.

She had come back, only to hear the news—

Lucien was dead.

Her son, her precious Lucien, had died in her absence. The letter had come to her as a cold, cruel truth.

Lucien's death.

She had never even been able to attend his funeral.

Diana's arms tightened around Lucien, her mind swirling with all the pain and regret of the past.

Lucien, unaware of the storm inside her, comforted her in the only way he knew how.

"Don't cry, Mother," he said softly, looking up at her with his gray eyes filled with innocent concern. "You've been so sad lately. You need to smile more."

Diana couldn't hold it in any longer. The tears that had been threatening to spill finally fell.

She held Lucien so tightly that he gasped, but she couldn't let him go. She needed him. She needed to hold him, to make sure he was real, that he was still here with her.

"I'm sorry," Diana whispered through her tears. "I'm so sorry, Lucien. I didn't… I didn't protect you."

Lucien blinked in surprise. "Mother, you're always protecting me. You're always taking care of me."

Diana shook her head. She could still see the little boy standing before her in her memories, his tiny face bruised, his arm bleeding, and she hadn't even cared. She had used him to attack Liliana.

I used my son as a weapon.

Now, all she could do was hold him and beg for forgiveness—though she knew Lucien would never understand the depth of her guilt.

"I swear," Diana whispered, her voice thick with emotion, "I'll never let you go again. I'll protect you with everything I have, Lucien. You mean everything to me. I will never, ever let you suffer again."

Lucien, still confused but sensing the gravity of her words, hugged her back. "I know, Mother."

And for a moment, as they held each other, Diana felt a flicker of peace. It wasn't much. But it was a start.

She would atone for her past. She would protect Lucien. She would do whatever it took to make sure he never felt the pain she had caused him before.

*****

The wind howled across the empty plains, cutting through the thick fabric of Diana's coat like a blade. Snow crunched beneath her boots as she walked forward, her gaze fixed on the distant ruins of what was once a village.

Beside her, Lucius shivered violently, wrapping his coat tighter around himself. "By the gods, Diana, remind me why we're walking through this frozen wasteland instead of using a proper method of travel?"

Diana didn't answer immediately. Instead, she exhaled, watching as her breath turned into a white mist before vanishing into the cold air.

"Liliana wants a war," she murmured finally. "So I'll give her one."

Lucius sighed, his violet eyes filled with a mix of irritation and reluctant admiration. "You always have to be dramatic, don't you?"

Diana glanced at him, the corners of her lips twitching slightly. "You're still here."

"Against my better judgment," he grumbled, stuffing his gloved hands into his coat pockets. "No horses, no villages, no proper roads—just endless snow. Why are we suffering like this when we could have just teleported closer?"

"Because teleportation has its limits," Diana replied. "Even a five-circle swordsman or a third-circle magician can struggle against the mana rift. If we push too far, we risk being torn apart. And I'd rather not die before dealing with Marquis Evermont."

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. But remind me again—why exactly are we doing this personally?"

Diana didn't answer. She didn't need to.

The sight before them said enough.

The village—or what remained of it—was barely standing. Houses were nothing more than broken structures with collapsed roofs. The few buildings that still had walls were worn down and covered in frost. Smoke drifted lazily from only one chimney, a faint sign that at least someone still lived here.

The people of this land had been abandoned.

This was the price of Marquis Evermont's greed.

Lucius let out a long sigh. "Tch. To think a noble could let a territory rot like this while he dines on fine meals."

Diana didn't reply. She merely stepped forward, pushing open the doors of a run-down tavern.

The inside was only marginally better than the outside. It was dimly lit, the wooden beams barely holding together. A weak fire crackled in the hearth, struggling against the cold. The handful of people inside turned to look at them, their faces hollow with hunger, their eyes wary.

Diana ignored the stares and walked straight to the counter. The bartender, a middle-aged man with a thick beard and weary eyes, raised an eyebrow at her.

"Hot chocolate," she ordered. "And food."

Lucius sat beside her, shaking the snow off his shoulders. "Same."

The bartender hesitated, then sighed. "We don't have much, but I'll see what I can do."

As he walked away, Lucius leaned against the counter, glancing at Diana. "So? What's the plan?"

Diana exhaled. "First, we gather information. Then, we make our move."

"You're being vague."

"I'm being careful."

Lucius clicked his tongue. "Do you even plan to tell me what you're actually planning?"

Diana gave him a sideways glance. "Would you believe me if I said I wasn't entirely sure yet?"

Lucius groaned, rubbing his temples. "Why did I even ask?"

Their drinks arrived first. The warmth of the hot chocolate seeped into Diana's fingers as she wrapped her hands around the mug. She took a slow sip, savoring the rich taste, though it did little to ease the tightness in her chest.

Lucius, meanwhile, eyed his drink skeptically. "How did they even get chocolate out here?"

Diana didn't answer, instead glancing around the tavern. The people here were thin, their clothes patched together with whatever scraps they could find. A group of children sat in the corner, whispering to each other as they stole glances at Diana and Lucius.

Their eyes were bright with hunger.

Diana looked down at her drink, her grip tightening.

Lucius, noticing her expression, sighed. "You're thinking about feeding them, aren't you?"

"They're starving, Lucius."

"I know." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Do whatever it is you're about to do."

Diana didn't hesitate. She pulled out a small pouch of gold and slid it across the counter. "Make sure everyone here gets something to eat."

The bartender's eyes widened. He hesitated, glancing between her and the pouch. "This is…"

"Enough," Diana said firmly. "More than enough."

The bartender swallowed hard, nodding quickly. "I'll… I'll do what I can."

Lucius watched as the tavern filled with murmurs. People exchanged glances, some in disbelief, others with cautious hope.

"You're making a scene," Lucius muttered.

Diana didn't care.

She had seen this before.

In her past life, she had ignored villages like this. She had turned a blind eye to the suffering, believing it wasn't her responsibility.

Now?

Now she would burn the entire empire down before she let history repeat itself.

Lucius leaned in, lowering his voice. "You're not just here to inspect the damage, are you?"

Diana met his gaze. "No."

Lucius sighed, rubbing his temples again. "So what are we really doing?"

Diana glanced around before lowering her voice. "We're going to make Marquis Evermont regret every coin he stole."

Lucius's violet eyes gleamed with interest. "Oh?"

Diana smirked slightly. "I'll handle the people. You handle the soldiers."

"Simple."

"Effective."

Lucius leaned back, sipping his drink. "You really are terrifying, you know that?"

Diana chuckled. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Lucius smirked. "Oh, I didn't say that. Just… remind me not to be on your bad side."

Diana's golden eyes glowed faintly in the firelight. "As long as you don't betray me, you never will be."

Lucius clicked his tongue. "Noted."

Outside, the snow continued to fall, but inside, the warmth of the tavern was slowly spreading.

A storm was coming.

And Diana was going to make sure Liliana and Evermont felt every bit of it.