In the Imperial Palace, there was an old rumor.

Adelia Clemens, the eldest daughter of the fallen House Clemens. The most beautiful pawn installed as Empress by the aristocratic faction.

At first, everyone believed it. A family left as a mere shell by defeats in territory wars, famine, and natural disasters. They thought the eldest daughter of such a house would never dare covet actual power, even if crowned Empress.

But five years was enough.

Twenty-six-year-old Adelia sharpened her blade behind the smiles of the palace. Swallowing their mockery, she memorized the nobles' weaknesses and began to reclaim imperial power bit by bit, using etiquette as her shield.

And so, the aristocratic faction burned Clemens.

Overnight, the Clemens estate vanished into flames and black smoke. On the surface, it was a barbarian raid. But Adelia knew. Those flames were set by the aristocrats to snap the Empress's roots.

From that day on, Adelia became a pawn once more.

Then, at thirty-two. As she collapsed on the floor of a dark drawing room, the shards of a broken teacup glinted faintly at her fingertips. Her vision was blurred, and only the silhouette of a man backlit by the lamps stood before her.

The leader of the aristocratic faction gave a low chuckle.

???: "With this, the Clemens bloodline is completely finished."

A brief silence.

???: "Ah, I heard there was one left as a palace servant. Pfft. The last bloodline being a filthy servant... what a fitting end."