The Emperor’s breath caught in his throat, rough and uneven, as if the silence in the room itself was choking him. He swallowed, trying to steady himself, but his voice still trembled when he spoke—repeating the lie he had clung to for years.

"He... he died of sickness. The royal physicians said his heart just stopped."

Elara looked at him.

Her gaze was cold—sharp in a way that didn’t just look at him, but seemed to strip him apart layer by layer. Then she let out a quiet scoff, short and dry, cutting through his words like they meant nothing.

"I killed him with my own two hands."

The room fell completely silent.

The Emperor physically recoiled, as if she had struck him. His eyes widened, not with doubt—but with raw, instinctive fear. Slowly, almost unwillingly, his gaze dropped to her hands. Pale. Small. Calmly holding a book, as if nothing had been said at all.

And in that moment, it hit him.

He wasn’t sitting with a princess.

He was sitting with someone who had already killed a king.

"So listen carefully," Elara continued, her voice lowering, almost soft—but it carried through the room like something heavy and final. "If you think you cannot control the Beast Knights, then understand one thing. This is a very simple fact."

She stood up.

The iron chain around her wrist shifted, giving a low metallic sound that felt far louder than it should have in that silence. She looked down at him, her eyes empty—no guilt, no hesitation, no fear.

"You definitely cannot control me."

There was no emotion in her voice. Just certainty.

"And if I decide this empire is better off without you..." she added, just as calmly, "I will remove you the same way I removed him."

A pause.

"Now leave. I have work to do."

A flicker of irritation passed through her mind—not emotional, not heated. It felt more like a disruption. Like something inefficient wasting her time. The Emperor, however, didn’t move. He sat there, staring at her with a strange mix of pity and arrogance, as if he still believed he had some ground to stand on.

"Sister," he said, leaning forward slightly, lowering his voice. "Do you really think you can control the Beast Knights?"

He watched her carefully, waiting for a reaction.

"You act confident," he continued, "but do you think they respect you? Do you think they follow you because they want to?"

He leaned in just a little more, as if sharing some deep truth.

"Let me tell you something. You are nothing to them."

Elara didn’t react.

Not even a flicker.

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze as distant and unreadable as the bottom of the ocean.

"And who said I was worried about them following me?" she asked.

The Emperor froze for a second.

That wasn’t the response he expected.

"Why does it matter?" she continued, her tone calm, steady. "Whether they like me or not... whether they agree with me or not... it changes nothing."

Then her eyes settled on him, direct and precise.

"But one thing is certain. Even as a captive, if I give a single command... those Beast Knights would kill you."

A brief pause.

"Isn’t that far more useful than your so-called respect?"

That was it.

No courtesy. No hesitation. No attempt to soften her words.

To her, he wasn’t her Emperor.

He was just... inefficient.

The Emperor’s face tightened, his hands clenching into fists in his lap. Anger and fear twisted together inside him, but neither gave him the strength to respond. Slowly, he lowered his head.

"Just be a good Emperor," Elara said, almost dismissively. "And don’t repeat history."

She raised a hand and pointed toward the door.

"Now get lost."

She didn’t wait.

She simply sat back down and picked up her book, turning her attention away from him completely—as if he had already stopped existing.

He stayed there for a few moments, staring at her, hollow and stunned. Then, slowly, he stood and walked out.

His footsteps were heavier now.

The door closed with a quiet but final click.

But Elara didn’t relax.

"If you’re done listening," she said without looking up, "you can leave too."

Silence followed.

Then, from the shadows near the door, something shifted.

Kane stepped forward, his presence finally revealing itself. There was genuine surprise on his face, mixed with something else—interest.

He rubbed the back of his neck slightly.

"We really can’t hide from you, can we, Your Highness?" he said with a faint smile. "You always notice us... even when we’re not trying to be seen. How do you do that?"

Elara turned a page.

"Maybe it’s because you stink."

Kane let out a small laugh.

"Well, I took a bath this morning," he said casually, walking closer. "So I don’t think that’s it."

He reached the table and tapped it lightly.

"Can I sit?"

"No."

Her answer came instantly. Cold. Final.

Not anger—just refusal.

Kane blinked.

"...Huh?"

He wasn’t used to that.

He looked at her, expecting something more—but she didn’t even glance at him. She kept reading, as if he wasn’t worth the effort.

The silence stretched.

It became heavy.

And strangely... uncomfortable.

Kane frowned slightly. He had seen what she did to Mahir. He had heard her threaten the Emperor without hesitation. He wanted to understand her.

But she gave him nothing.

Not even attention.

Being ignored by her felt worse than being attacked.

"You’re really just going to read?" he asked, his voice lower now.

Elara turned another page.

"I told you to leave, Kane. Don’t make me repeat myself."

He didn’t move.

Instead, he leaned forward, his shadow falling across her book, blocking the light.

"And if I don’t?" he said, his voice carrying a quiet, dangerous edge.

That’s when she looked up.

Her eyes weren’t angry.

They were... interested.

Cold. Focused. Almost curious.

She closed the book with a soft thud.

"Then I guess we’ll start your audit early," she said quietly.

Kane didn’t step back.

He wanted to see what she would do.

"Brave," Elara said, her voice smooth. "Or stupid. Which one are you?"

Kane smirked slightly.

"Just curious."

That was enough.

In a single movement, she acted.

No warning.

No wasted motion.

She grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward, using his own balance against him. Before he could react—

Clang!

The chain around her wrist snapped through the air and wrapped around his throat.

She pulled.

Not enough to kill—but enough to choke.

His breath caught instantly.

Then she stepped up, forcing him down.

He hit the floor hard.

For a moment, he couldn’t even react.

Not because he wasn’t capable—

But because he hadn’t expected it.

At all.

And just like that—

It was over.

Elara didn’t say anything else.

She didn’t even look at him.

She unwrapped the chain, sat back down, and continued reading as if nothing had happened.

Kane lay there, stunned, his hand slowly moving to his throat.

"...What...?"

She glanced at him briefly.

"Leave. Or stay there."

Then she closed the book, stood up, walked to her bed—

And went to sleep.

Just like that.

Kane didn’t move.

He couldn’t.

It felt like the entire situation hadn’t even processed properly in his mind.