IYTTEPAAK Chapter 1

My first love was over before it even started. The man in question happened to be the enemy kingdom's prince.

It happened while I was carrying out my father's insane imperial decree—go and retrieve the herb of eternal life—and was taken prisoner by the enemy army.

The enemy had expected that capturing an imperial princess would tip the war in their favor. Unfortunately for them, the princess they'd caught was the thirty-sixth-ranked princess of the empire.

Meaning: too common to be worth anything as a hostage.

The empire's emperor had plundered every beauty across the known world to build his harem, and took ten of them to bed each night. With the harem's numbers past a thousand, the children who were the byproduct of a single night's pleasure had long since passed a hundred themselves.

There's no way they'd treat a worthless hostage kindly. Least of all when that hostage happened to be the daughter of the very emperor responsible for the war.

The enemy locked me in an iron cage and tormented me with every cruelty and threat they could invent, working steadily at breaking my mind.

Above all, they gave me not one mouthful of water.

Guess this is it. This, then.

I was lying with my head against the filthy floor, starving to death, when the full moon rose bright overhead, and a black-haired boy appeared before me for the first time.

He held a canteen to my cracked lips, then tore off a piece of what looked like his own ration of bread, small enough to fit, and fed it into my mouth.

I understood immediately that he was breaking military law to keep me alive. I didn't so much as breathe loud enough to risk it—just took the food in silence.

Those secret nights went on for some time. Until one of them.

"At this rate I'll end up tamed."

I muttered it without thinking, struck by how I'd started waiting every night for whatever food the boy brought—like a bird in a cage, fed and raised to be used.

The boy flinched, just for a second.

I realized, then, that it was the first time I'd spoken to him at all. He answered, too.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Exactly what it sounds like.  It just feels that way. Like something being raised to be used."

"The kingdom has no such thing as slavery."

"I know. That particular practice is unique to the empire."

"......"

"......"

The exchange grew awkward enough that I thought our first conversation would also be our last.

Unexpectedly, the boy seemed to want to keep talking as much as I did.

"Why did you become a hostage?"

"Was that really a choice I made?"

"Yes. It was. You could have used your subordinate as a shield and looked to your own safety instead. But you walked into captivity yourself, to keep him alive."

Eyes like a sun rising in full splendor looked straight into me, clear and unclouded.

I owed an honest answer, at least, to the boy who had spent days gently keeping me alive.

"If I was just going to die here anyway, better to die than live off someone else's sacrifice. Not like I needed another reason—I'm already carrying the original sin of a tyrant's blood."

"......"

His lips parted soundlessly for a moment, as if my grown-up answer had caught him off guard.

Something about that small movement held my gaze, and I stared blankly before I caught up to what I was doing.

Handsome.

He had a face shocking enough to impress even someone who'd grown up surrounded by nothing but beautiful people.

It wasn't that he looked handsome because he was my rescuer. He was, objectively, magnificent.

"Princess. Are you."

He asked it with an expression of genuine curiosity.

"Living with death already accepted? Or trying to die on purpose?"

"You misunderstand. I'm afraid of death. I've just decided not to let myself become desperate."

"What does that mean?"

"The more desperately you want something, the more the whole world gets in your way. So I decided not to want anything desperately."

"......"

The boy seemed thrown again, this time by the depth of wisdom I'd apparently mastered.

His brow furrowed, this time as if in displeasure—though even that crease was beautiful.

"They say the Mad Emperor treats even his own children like playthings...... I suppose it's true, then."

Having gathered himself back together, the boy lowered his eyes. His gaze settled on the sword at his hip.

"Princess."

"Yes."

"You have no value as a hostage. You're one of countless children. There's no way the Mad Emperor could feel any fatherly love toward you."

Why bring this up now? What's his angle?

Is he going to kill me, since I'm worthless?

The moment he reached for the sword, I squeezed my eyes shut, but no pain came. What had been cut wasn't my neck—it was the rope around my ankles.

He took my right hand and pulled me to my feet.

"Come with me."

We moved carefully to avoid the sentries, and at some point our careful walking became something close to running.

Once the torchlight of the camp fell away behind us, all I could see was a straight, steady back. I depended on the hand pulling me forward and pushed quickly through the forest path he cleared.

"Just a little farther."

After a long stretch of gasping to keep up, we finally reached open plains, far from the kingdom's army encampment.

Thick clouds drifted slowly across the dawn sky, as dark as the future of the thirty-sixth princess.

The border between forest and plain was made up of scattered boulders and layered rock shelves.

To get us down what was practically a ruined stone staircase, the boy knight took my hand as if escorting me.

This would be our last farewell. I knew it instinctively, and so I spoke to him with every step down.

"What's your name, sir knight?"

"Just an ordinary knight. Not distinguished enough to be worth naming."

A lie. I know him.

The boy was the third prince of the Kingdom of Rohengrin.

His people loved him fiercely—not only for his beautiful face and formidable strength, but for a fine character to match. His praises had traveled far enough to cross the border and reach my own ears.

At only twelve, he had slain the sea dragon that threatened the northern coast. At fourteen, he'd driven back the wraith-lord who'd blockaded the great bridge over the Grand Canyon. And now he single-handedly held off a thousand imperial soldiers to defend his kingdom.

Every time his people fell into ruin, he appeared like their savior—how could any of them help falling in love with him? The boy hero was the most precious treasure the Kingdom of Rohengrin possessed.

Since he clearly wanted to hide his identity, I changed the subject.

"Is it really all right to release me? Military law must be strict."

"It's fine."

Another lie. It could not possibly be fine.

Whether empire or kingdom, military law would be similar enough—execution as the baseline. He wouldn't be killed, being a beloved prince, but he might well take dozens of lashes.

"Why are you letting me live?"

"Making me think hard about the reason doesn't seem like a wise choice, right now. What if I change my mind?"

"Can't be helped, then. Just make it painless."

"......"

"I told you already. Not wanting anything desperately. That's my principle."

Had I been too bold? He gripped my hand once, briefly and hard, then let go. I think that was his way of cautioning me.

"I hadn't meant to ask, but I can't hold back the question any longer."

"What is it you're curious about, sir knight?"

"Forgive me for asking, but how old is the princess?"

"Old enough to have eaten plenty. Old enough to know how things work."

His face suggested considerable disagreement with my claim to maturity.

I heard him mutter something like "looks young," so I added a reasonable explanation.

"Most of my brothers and sisters died around ten years old. I'm plenty old enough to look after myself."

"...... The imperial family is out of its mind."

"I agree. I'm genuinely curious, though—why are you letting me live?"

He stopped walking for a moment and turned to face me directly. Standing on top of a large boulder, my eyes came level with his.

A large hand approached my face. My vision blocked, I flinched—and in that instant felt his palm settle gently over my head, stroking it.

"......"

What is this. This kind of touch—a first.

No one had ever touched my body this way. The ladies-in-waiting were careful when they arranged my hair, and everyone else never so much as considered touching me at all.

Objectively, this was rude. As a princess, I should have stopped it.

But the tenderness in that touch had, strangely, jammed both my judgment and my ability to act.

While I stood there, immune-less and dazed, a low, pleasant voice curled into my ear.

"I have a little sister—about your size."

The words slipped out plain, stripped of all his careful formality. Once again, I couldn't find the right response.

"That's. A sentimental sort of reason."