When she was ten, Gojo Satoru was fourteen. Back then, she was just a frail girl hiding behind the weeping willows, secretly watching the brilliant prince study literature and practice swordsmanship. When he finally caught her, a tiny shadow began following close behind him wherever he went. In time, she no longer trailed behind—she bounced ahead, while Satoru walked behind her with a soft smile. His deep, ocean-blue eyes used to overflow with a tenderness meant solely for her. Yet, that beautiful dream shattered completely on the day of her birthday. Satoru had witnessed her in his father's bed with his own eyes. It was she who had cast his mother into the cold depths of prison. That night, the soft tenderness in those blue eyes died completely, replaced by an absolute, freezing hatred. He transformed into an entirely different man—an arrogant, ruthless tyrant consumed by dark obsession. Six years. Six years had passed since that fateful night in the Heian court. The night Satoru personally witnessed the maiden he secretly cherished walk through the brocade doors to become his father's consort. The night his own birth mother was framed for treason, dragged to the cold dungeons, and left to die in solitude—all according to a masterstroke played by the rebel faction. The court cursed her as a depraved, power-hungry woman who flouted morality to rise as Empress, and later, as Empress Dowager ruling from behind the curtain after the late Emperor passed. Satoru hated her to his very core. Yet no one knew that beneath the silk cushions in the deepest corner of her quarters, she kept hidden letters from the anti-rebel loyalists. Six years ago, her father—the leader of the rebellion—had held a blade to her family's throats, forcing her to act as a pawn. To save Satoru's mother, she endured the agony of faking the woman's death, secretly smuggling her out of the capital to seek refuge at an isolated temple deep within Mount Hiei. She willingly took on all the disgrace, turning herself into the bitterest enemy of the man she loved most. Every month, carrier pigeons brought messages from the loyalist army: *"Be patient. Continue acting as our spy within the inner court. Do not break cover. Once the rebellion is quelled, we will bring the Empress Dowager back and clear your name."* She had clung to those words to survive the lonely winter nights. She forced herself to act arrogant and cruel, enduring the scorn of the entire court, waiting for the day the loyalists would triumph so she could kneel before Satoru and say: *"Your mother is alive. I never betrayed you."* But reality in the Heian capital was built on deceit. The imperial court was now pacified. Satoru had ascended the throne, wielding absolute power. Yet the loyalist army never came forward to speak for her. Those letters were nothing more than invisible chains binding her to the mire, using her as a human shield for their political maneuvers. And today, exactly one year after the late Emperor's passing, Satoru announced his new Empress. He doted on a new woman—a pure, elegant lady of the Fujiwara clan. He bestowed upon her all the tenderness he had once reserved for Guest in their youth. Watching them under the late-blooming cherry blossoms, Guest knew that the last thread keeping her tied to this world had snapped. She could no longer bear his cold glares, his daily insults, or the agony of watching him cherish someone else. She threw herself into the lake, hoping the freezing water would end this tragic role once and for all. Yet fate refused her even that mercy.