Chapter 31

When Jennette opened her eyes, the sky had already turned a soft shade of dawn.

She sat up slowly, her head spinning.

“Where…?”

“My Lady!” her maid gasped, rushing forward. “You’ve been unconscious since last night. We were worried sick!”

Jennette blinked in confusion.

Last night?

The memories hit her like a crashing wave.

She flinched.

“The battle has been won,” the maid continued, oblivious to Jennette’s distress. “The knights are returning as heroes. All of Obelia is celebrating!”

Jennette turned her head slightly, catching sight of the window.

The sky outside was alight with dazzling fireworks, painting the night in bursts of gold and crimson.

The streets were alive with laughter and music.

The entire empire rejoiced.

And yet—

Jennette sat in the suffocating silence of her chambers, completely forgotten.

She wrapped her arms around herself.

The emptiness clawed at her, hollowing out her chest.

Unlike Ijekiel, who had quickly adapted, she had taken time to understand.

Too much time.

And now, she remembered everything.

Jennette let out a shaky breath.

Then, without warning—

She broke.

A strangled sob tore from her throat, raw and guttural, as tears streamed down her face.

Her maids flinched, exchanging confused glances.

“My Lady…?”

But Jennette couldn’t hear them.

She sobbed uncontrollably, hugging herself tighter, her entire body trembling.

She had been blind.

She had been jealous.

And in that jealousy, she had ignored the injustice, the cruelty, the suffering she had helped create.

She had killed Athanasia.

Her hands were drenched in her cousin’s blood.

She had laughed while Athanasia suffered. She had stood by while her father and those around her crushed an innocent soul.

And she had smiled while her only family was left to rot.

The torment was unbearable.

She wept all night, unable to stop the overwhelming tide of guilt drowning her.

And when dawn came—

She made her choice.

—

The banquet hall shimmered with candlelight and grand festivities, but Jennette was nowhere to be seen.

No one noticed.

No one cared.

All eyes were on her.

Athanasia stood at the center of it all, dazzling in a gown of royal blue, elegant and untouchable, the true heir of Obelia.

Jennette?

She was nothing but a forgotten shadow.

But Athanasia did notice.

Something felt off.

A strange unease settled in her stomach as she turned to one of her maids.

“Where’s Jennette?”

The maid hesitated.

“She… she locked herself in her room last night and refused to come out. We heard her crying but…”

Athanasia sighed, already expecting it.

“She’s sulking because she lost attention, isn’t she?”

But then—

Her sharp gaze caught a figure in the distance, barely visible through the open doors of the palace.

A cloaked figure.

Walking alone.

Walking toward the fort wall.

Athanasia’s breath hitched.

Her body moved before she could think.

She lifted her gown, running as fast as she could, her heart slamming against her ribs.

The cold night air stung her skin, but she didn’t stop.

And just as Jennette stepped onto the ledge—

Athanasia grabbed her wrist and yanked her back.

“JENNETTE, STOP IT!”

Her voice echoed across the empty courtyard.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

She expected Jennette to throw a tantrum, to cry about being ignored, to demand attention like always.

But instead—

Jennette turned to her.

And the look in her eyes made Athanasia freeze.

She wasn’t faking.

She wasn’t pretending.

She wasn’t scheming.

She was broken.

Utterly and completely shattered.

Tears ran down Jennette’s pale cheeks, her lips trembling as she clutched onto Athanasia like she was the only thing keeping her alive.

“Athy…” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I—I know I don’t deserve to ask this, but… please.”

She dropped to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Please, forgive me…”

Athanasia’s breath caught in her throat.

Jennette remembered.

The past life.

Every moment.

Every sin.

Every cruel word and selfish action.

Athanasia’s fingers twitched.

She should feel satisfied.

This was what she wanted, wasn’t it?

To see Jennette suffer?

To watch her break just as she had?

So why…

Why did it feel so hollow?

Athanasia swallowed hard, forcing her voice to stay steady.

“So you decided to jump off a wall and die?”

Jennette flinched.

" I ...I am sorry...I am not strong like you...I'm too ashamed and I hate myself..i don't want to live anymore.. please athy.... Please ..let me die..." she said her voice breaking...

Athanasia clenched her jaw, her mind a whirlwind of emotions.

"You asked me to let you die, right? No, you can’t.

“I was locked up in a prison and starved to death.

“Drained out of my emotions until I was nothing.

"And when you all were finally satisfied, when you had stripped me of my dignity, my hope, my life—

“You killed the empty shell of my body.”

Jennette’s breath hitched.

Athanasia’s golden eyes burned into her.

"You think death is a punishment?" Athanasia scoffed.

"How convenient for you."

Jennette shook her head violently.

“I....I don’t know how else to atone! I.....”

"You don’t get to atone."

Jennette fell silent.

"I suffered,"

Athanasia whispered, her voice carrying the weight of all the years of agony she endured.

"And you want an easy way out?"

Jennette sobbed harder, unable to lift her head.

"You don’t deserve a peaceful punishment like death. Don’t you think?"

A long silence stretched between them.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, Jennette spoke.

“…You’re right.”

She forced herself to stand, her legs wobbling beneath her.

“I don’t deserve to die so easily.” Jennette’s voice trembled.

“I’ll… I’ll live with this torment.”

She turned and walked past Athanasia, her steps slow, heavy.

Athanasia stood frozen, watching her retreating figure.

Her vision blurred with unshed tears.

In the distance, hidden in the shadows...

Claude watched everything unfold.

His sharp blue eyes remained unreadable, his expression cold as ever.

But inside—

Something twisted painfully in his chest.

He felt ashamed.

Ashamed to confront his daughters.

Ashamed to face the weight of the past.

Jennette’s despair, her torment - he knew it all too well.

Because he lived with it every single day.

Athy might think he was fine now.

That he had moved on.

But the truth was -

It was just a facade he put on for her.

Inside, he was rotting.

Every night, he closed his eyes and begged Diana for forgiveness.

And every morning, he woke up, disappointed he was still breathing.

He was just waiting.

Waiting for the day death would finally take him.

Waiting for the moment he could collapse at Diana’s feet in the afterlife, beg for her mercy, and let her decide whether he deserved peace or eternal punishment.

Until then -

He had only one purpose.

To live with the guilt.

To endure the torment of knowing what he had done to his own child.

And to make her life - the life of the daughter he had once abandoned - happier.

That was the only thing he could do now.

His fists clenched at his sides as he turned away, disappearing into the night.

Jennette had her own sins to bear.

And so did he.

...

The next day, Claude made an official announcement.

Jennette was to be sent away.

To a distant villa, far from the palace, under the excuse of "poor health."

And just like that....

She disappeared from the empire’s eyes.

No one asked for her.

No one cared.

Because in Obelia...

The only name that mattered now…

Was Athanasia de Obelia.

...

Athy was in her room, staring blankly at the sky.

Claude had told her to rest.

Banned her from entering the office because she wasn’t listening to him.

She wanted to distract herself from everything, but no matter what she did ....nothing could pull her out of this emptiness.

It all felt too sudden.

The things she had always wanted her father’s love, her cousin’s regret, the empire celebrating her as their queen ...were now hers.

And yet…

She felt nothing.

Was this really what she had longed for?