Alexander the Great, the magnificent conqueror of Robiden, had two women. Katharina, the ill-fated Empress who died young. And Sylvia, who became the second Empress after her death. Alexander the Great passed the throne to the first prince born of Katharina, and the second prince born of Sylvia was tasked with remaining a loyal subject to his brother and educating the Crown Prince excellently.

However, the greedy younger brother brutally murdered his older brother and even tried to kill his young nephew. The nephew, who barely escaped his uncle's clutches through his nanny's tearful sacrifice, spent his nights in tears of blood, vowing revenge, and returned to the palace after ten years.

'Our kind and generous new Emperor has willingly forgiven and accepted the usurper who betrayed them.'

—Is that so? Isn't it amusing? That I supposedly forgave you.

Callous parents who valued their own dignity and pleasure over their child. A crown that was only heavy. Hungry wolves eyeing the empire's sole heir. In that suffocating palace, my uncle cherished me, the child of his half-brother.

"Do not be afraid, Your Highness."

"This Eugen will always be by your side."

My uncle was a father, a brother, and a teacher to me. I trusted and followed him with that heart...

"Your Highness—!"

The uncle I trusted destroyed my world.

The night the endless corridors of the palace were stained with blood, and my father's corpse burned, lighting up the darkness of the palace. It was the nanny who came running with a scream and threw her life away in front of the rebel's cold blade reaching for me.

I searched desperately for my uncle, but he was nowhere to be found. Because it was his doing from the start. Because he cut off my father's head and tried to kill me. Me.

Escaping that living hell through the nanny's sacrifice, I rolled through life as a nameless mercenary, overcoming countless crises, and finally returned.

To the imperial palace.

It had been ten years.

Did you know?

If you had said you wanted the throne, I would have given it to you. I would have even acted like a madman so the ministers couldn't oppose it. I would have willingly given you my everything.

Even if you were a stranger with not a single drop of imperial blood in you.

Every night, I thought. That I would give you the most miserable end. But the moment I saw your face, looking at peace as if you had accepted everything, my mind changed. An Emperor who neither surrendered nor fled, but calmly offered his neck to the leader of the rebels. What an elegant and honorable death. It doesn't suit a traitor's end.

So—

"For at least ten years, suffer by my side."