Today was the day of the execution of the dethroned Empress Petronilla.

In the capital Khaud, a large number of people flocked in from the morning. The empire's capital that was always quiet was now buzzing and bustling, and the atmosphere was not good.

Near the Imperial Palace was the plaza where the executions took place. People crowded around the execution grounds. In the center was the old guillotine.

At that point, Patrizia was tied up and calmly kneeling, waiting for her expected punishment.

With her mouth firmly shut, she stared down at the floor, until she raised her head and looked back to see her parents in the same position awaiting their punishment. The people she loved most and Patrizia's miserable appearance was enough to make her tears flow, but she knew better than anyone that everything was now pointless.


She turned her head to the cool voice that called out to her. The bindings were uncomfortable, but that amount of movement was possible. The one who called to her was her father.

"I'm sorry."

"... Why father?"

She was really curious. Why did her father apologize to her? For this matter, no one should have to apologize to her. Everyone was a victim. There was no pure perpetrator in this place. So she... couldn't thoughtlessly blame anyone.

However, it was impossible to prevent herself from biting her lips due to the incoming feelings of sorrow and unfairness. In the most calm voice possible, Patrizia answered, "Don't feel sorry."

It was not resentment. It was simply the truth. There was no one here that had to apologize. They were just all victims. She didn't try to hide her sorrowful eyes as she continued to talk, "I will just regret it."

If everything could go back to that day, there would be no tragedy such as this. Patrizia finally released the tears that had gathered. At the same time, the people's murmurs grew louder in the execution grounds. Someone had appeared.

"His Majesty is arriving. Show your manners."

The Emperor appeared in the execution grounds with the servant's loud voice. He wasn't alone and was with someone. The honor of being that 'someone' was the Emperor's mistress, who he always brought everywhere, the Marchioness Phelps. Patrizia's face instantly distorted when she saw that cursed face, but soon her original facial expression returned.

The Emperor, seated with Marchioness Phelps, had an indifferent expression, as if what was going on before him meant nothing, and there was no need to put any attention to it. Due to that attitude, Patrizia felt her emotions become infuriated, but unfortunately, there was nothing she could do with her feelings. Nothing.

"Bring over the dethroned Empress."

Right after that voice—eerily devoid of emotions—echoed, someone slowly appeared in the execution area. A woman with scattered hair and a tattered white dress walked in with the support of two soldiers.

It was her sister, Petronilla. Patrizia's face once again contorted the moment she realized her face had worsened than the last time she saw it.


With a voice full of sorrow, Patrizia quietly called out her older sister's nickname. However, the noisy disturbance in the execution grounds swept away her voice long ago. She cried again, heartbroken at the thought of one syllable of the name vanishing. Her parents were already wailing in the back.

"The Empress Petronilla Laura Les Groschester forgot her position, committed numerous immoral acts, tried to harm the woman of the Emperor, and even tried to harm the Emperor. So I, Lucio Carick George De Marvinus..."

The eerie voice seemed to be determining the end of their fate.

"In the name of the Emperor, all members of the Grochester Family will be beheaded."

After all, it was a catastrophe. A tragedy in the name of a catastrophe. Patrizia closed her eyes with a face expressing nothing.

'It's over, everything is over.'

"Begin the execution of the Empress."

Patrizia lifted her eyes and stared for the last time as her sister seemed to be dragged to the slaughterhouse. Petronilla maintained a face that expressed nothing, but Patrizia who shared her bloodline could tell. Resignation and regret. And...


Her silly sister was still in love with the Emperor. 'Stupid sister, what should we do with you. Still looking toward that person until the moment of your death.' Patrizia sobbed for the first time, not anymore feeling invincible to the indelible sorrow for that foolish fact. 'Ah, sister, sister. My sister.' She looked at her sister's end with her wide eyes open until the end.



The dethroned Empress' throat was cut off, and a flurry of calls came out from all sides. Patrizia smushed her lips until it was filled with blood.

'Everything's over. My sister died. And my parents and I will share the same fate as my sister.'

"Bring down the household of the dethroned Empress."

The wife that loved him died. For three years, the Empress who was tied down with the title of being a couple with the Emperor had her neck cut off. And yet to be so calm… She grabbed her chest as the sorrow rushed in. She couldn't breathe.

"Behead them in turn."

She finally laughed at the awful command. There was no reason not to laugh or cry at the moment everything was ending. If one did not go crazy in this situation, that was more abnormal. Patrizia smiled more brilliantly than anyone else in the world as she laid her neck on the guillotine. Finally, looking at the emperor who commanded her execution—who was once her brother-in-law—she felt regret.

'If I had become your Empress instead...'

She wasn't the type to risk everything for love, nor was she affectionate enough to act rashly against the Emperor. So if she had become the Empress, everyone would have been happy without dying. Maybe her child would later become Emperor and possibly take revenge against Phelps.

'At that time, I regret not becoming the Empress.'

It was a mistake to send her sister out to the competition to become the Empress. On the day her sister first saw the Emperor, it was her mistake to not have expected her sister to fall in love at first sight.

But it was too late to regret. Everything had already taken place, and the only thing left was her neck to be cut off by that cold blade, along with her beloved family.

Patrizia didn't pay attention to the blade that came down in a flash; she just regretted for the last time.

'If I could go back to that time... I would never allow my sister to become the Empress.'

And with that regret, Patrizia's neck was cut off... As before, the sound of the people's screams reverberated.

With the last of her tears, Patrizia, at 22 years of age, closed her eyes.