Chapter 1 — The Condemned

Today’s a day worth remembering, isn’t it?

Hmm. How can you tell?

Because you’re wearing my mother’s dress, Miss Nadelia.

Does it look… unbecoming on me?

No! You look beautiful. Like you’re glowing softly.

Hahaha…

Her sweet laughter echoed through the empty house.

Thank you, young master.

She adjusted my collar, then placed the golden-banded hat on my head and tied the white bow.

So, Miss Nadelia… where are we going? Are Father and Mother coming home?

Yes. We’ll see them soon. But first—

Her index finger pressed gently against my lips. The scent of her skin filled my nose as her cherry-red lips parted.

Outside… you must still call me Head Maid.

Understood. Miss Nadelia, sixteen-year-old head maid of House Slindeport.

You’re such a good boy… young master.

Her fingertip traced my cheek, tickling. She sighed.

Time to go.

She pushed the door open. Instantly, a tide of filth and curses crashed over us.

“Look at this rotten bitch!”

“Pelt the Slindeport bastard!”

“Die, demons! May the Four Gods destroy you!”

*The Four Gods?* A hollow faith. Miss Nadelia’s voice was soft, but her body was strong. She spread her slender arms, shielding me. Rotten tomatoes, stinking eggs, grimy rags—all splattered harmlessly around us.

I looked up at her. My big sister. Miss Nadelia, sixteen-year-old head maid of House Slindeport.

She murmured words no one else could hear.

We walked. No carriage came, but since Miss Nadelia didn’t mention it, neither did I. Perhaps Father and Mother weren’t far.

We walked until my legs trembled. Filth clung to my clothes; I flicked it off with disgust. I glanced up. Miss Nadelia still held that same posture—as if cradling an invisible ghost.

Her uniform was stained. Reeking. Livestock waste trickled down her neck into her collar.

I didn’t care. She was still my big sister. Miss Nadelia, head maid of House Slindeport.

Finally, she stopped. The mob ceased throwing filth. I sighed—not from relief at their halted cruelty, but because we’d arrived. *Home.* Our parents’ servants would carry us on their backs.

This was the National Square. A platform stood at its heart, crowned by a statue of Saint Knight John, avatar of the Four Gods. Crowds buzzed around it, shouting. Then—a ragged man spotted us. His shout cut through the noise. Everyone turned. The crowd fell silent. Parted.

Just like before. They still feared me. A strange joy bubbled inside me. At the edge of the crowd, I saw my parents. Dressed in torn white robes. Kneeling. Heads bowed. Faces hidden.

I stepped forward eagerly—then froze.

Two massive gallows stood beside Saint John’s horse. Burly executioners looped ropes around my parents’ necks. In that instant, the nooses became gaping maws of beasts, slowly devouring them.

*What is this?* My mind screamed. *They are the Earl and Countess of Slindeport! What are you doing?!*

Only then did I see the faces around me: hatred, disgust, glee, relief… *hunger*.

How…?

Miss Nadelia guided me forward.

We stood before my parents.

Father lifted his head. His gaze, dull as shattered glass, passed through me—landing on Miss Nadelia.

Mother kept her face down.

“You brought him,” Father rasped, his voice like broken mirrors.

“Yes, my lord.”

He shook his head, a bitter smile twisting his lips.

“No more ‘my lord,’ Nadelia. We’re condemned now.”

“You’ll always be my lord.” Her stubbornness was a thing he knew better than anyone.

“Enough,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “You look… battered. Cover Rhine’s eyes for me.”

“Yes.”

“The sentence is carried out,” the executioner announced.

“Excuse me.” Miss Nadelia turned me away.

I strained to look back, but her hands held me firm.

“Be good, young master,” she repeated, again and again.

The mob erupted. Cruel laughter ripped through the air as the ropes snapped taut. My parents’ bodies jerked upward.

I saw it anyway. Father kept his head bowed—ashamed. Unworthy.

But Mother… her eyes bulged forward. For a heartbeat, I saw crimson light bleeding from them. Then it vanished.

*Gone.* My parents were gone. A sea of people roared around me. Cheers like wildfire. The heat pressed down, thick as smoke. I stood in that ocean of noise and flame, thinking. Minutes bled into an hour. My mind was blank. Above us, Saint John’s sword gleamed with heavenly light.

Then I heard Miss Nadelia whispering words like scripture. The crowd drowned most of it out.

But those fragments… I remember them still.

*“When demons walk the earth,*

*they see angels…*

*burning Heaven.”*

Before the sun-scorched gallows, the grime-covered girl whispered.