The Curse Is Not Over

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Translator: Wyvern

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Chapter 1

Blue-black blades dripped blood onto a golden carpet.

Step. Step.

Straight black hair in stark contrast with the gilt surroundings, purple eyes dizzyingly bright under the cool moonlight.

Nobody stopped her.

The thousands of shadows that protected the emperor and the imperial family were nowhere to be seen. The night air mingled with the stench of blood from the sword in a fragile hand.

The woman thought that it was quite fitting for the palace to smell like so. Just like the bloodstains on her dress.

Bang!

Fire shot out over the walls of the imperial palace. She glanced in their direction—it seemed that the rebels were approaching.

Ah, she had to hurry.

With an indifferent touch, the woman wiped the dark blood flowing through her nose. Her steps didn’t even falter.

She stopped at her destination to the sound of explosions.

“You’re here, Carnephelia.”

Purple eyes stared into the throne, at the man sitting in it.

“My beautiful flower. My younger sister. My. Carnephelia.”

His blond hair was the inheritance of the imperial family. His red eyes were reminiscent of those of snakes.

Emperor Ianfried Helsdante.

“I feel this every time I see you, but it’s worth mentioning that you look so beautiful covered in blood, Brother.”

A cruel, bizarre smile.

Step. Step.

Carnephelia’s pace was slow, very slow. Despite the increasingly loud sounds from outside, there was no trace of nervousness on her face.

Climbing the platform, she held the tip of her sword to his neck. Ianfried’s eyes glimmered.

“And I also feel that this throne doesn’t suit you.”

The grin on his face quickly disappeared, but they both knew it was fake, anyway.

“To sit on an undeserved throne and look down on people… a price had to be paid for it.”

“I—”

If eyes could have killed…

“You shouldn’t have been so complacent,” she said expressionlessly. “You shouldn’t have thought I was easy just because I kept my head down.”

He laughed. “Carnephelia—” Ianfried reached out, tracing her lips with a finger. “I wonder what you would most regret if your beloved husband showed up here… What…”

His voice was gradually drowned out by the explosions.

Carnephelia nearly choked. Poison was eating away at the little vitality she had left, even though her undisturbed expression belied it.

Ianfried drew tears of blood on her cheeks, the corners of his mouth raised in a smile that was not a smile. “Tell me, Carnephelia. What should I show him, huh? His wife dying by my hand? Or his wife dying from poison?” He burst into crazed laughter, shaking his head. “Well, there’s a possibility that he would like it. You are, after all, the family of those who ruined him.”

“…”

“Perhaps he would celebrate the end of a bloodline, of a cursed enemy.”

He laughed and laughed. He had always had a sick sense of schadenfreude. In particular, he liked seeing his half-sister in pain.

“Put down the sword, Carnephelia. You can’t kill me,” Ianfried said blithely. “The ‘Blessing of Helsdante’ prohibits…”

“Not if I’m willing to die as well.”

Fwaa~

Her fingertips felt powerful, bolstered by the thrill of seeing his eyes widen in shock.

Upon your soul, a curse shall be engraved.

Ignoring the words that came to mind, she pushed the blade deeper into Ianfried’s neck.

“Ah—Ahhkk!”

She watched him lose the ability to speak, to breathe. And a smile he had never seen before graced her lips.

It was the last smile he would ever see from her.

“So, my existence will disappear? I won’t be able to reincarnate? No one will remember me? Is that the curse?”

“Khhhk—!”

“Should I be afraid of this curse that has already been spreading misery since the beginning?” Carnephelia’s voice was no longer calm, her entire being exuded a feeling of tragedy. “Ianfried Helsdante, you were a man who believed in blessings and committed evil, a man who will die in vain, forgotten. With this, the Helsdantes’ rule over this empire ends.”

Blood spewed out when she pulled out the sword.

Her eerie calm returning, she stepped back. Ianfried fell forward, coughing and laughing as he gripped the hem of her dress. Even in death, he was mocking her.

He always mocked her.

But she knew she had done her best.

Carnephelia kicked her despicable half-brother off the platform.

A man’s silhouette became visible through the thickening smoke and dust. While his features were still obscured, there was no way that she would not know who it was.

‘I’ve been waiting for you. I was sure you’d be here.’

She threw her sword away, letting it clatter next to Ianfried.

Silver hair came into view.

“Now…” Her throat felt tight and entirely too hot—whether it was due to all the blood or just her emotions, she didn’t know. “I’m the only living Helsdante.”

The familiar rhythm of footsteps stopped.

Carnephelia smiled. “It’s all over.”

The Helsdante Empire. Everything.

The moment Ianfried died, the curse started to take over her. Until now it had only ever been a legend, a superstition, but now she was certain. Her senses were dulled because of the poison, but she could still feel it.

It was indeed a curse engraved upon the soul, cold and sweet.

“I couldn’t give you what you wanted, up until the end.”

‘You must have wanted to kill all the Helsdantes with your own hands. You must have wanted to be the one to drench this terrible place with their—our—blood. You must have wanted to end this bloodline yourself.’

But she had to do it. She didn’t want him to live like this anymore.

Carnephelia collapsed.

“…!”

A solid arm caught her. Her cold fingertips tried to brush against…

Was this an illusion?

She closed her eyes, melting into the familiar physique.

Even this?

She could feel something flowing from her ears, nose, and mouth, but it all faded away.

‘Am I about to die? If so, then just this once, may I say it?’

Carnephelia’s lips opened a fraction. “Sorry for the delay… I’m sorry that I made you unhappy for such a long time,” she said, although she could no longer hear herself.

Before everything disappeared, including her heart, she had to apologize properly.

“I’ll carry the curse with me, so now… You can be happy.” She tried to smile. “I have only brought you misfortune and tragedy. Now, you can finally be happy.”

This much was fine, right? She could wish him happiness now, right?

Absently, she realized that she might have vomited blood just then.

‘I guess this is the end.’

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

‘I love you. I love you. I love you.’

“Sorry, Helis…”

‘I only wanted to see you smile. You, who seemed like a prince to me. You, who gave me wildflowers, were so dazzling that my heart opened. You, who smiled at me as no one else did.’

[Is that what you want?]

‘I was too greedy.’

[Yes, it is.]

‘I’m sorry, Helis. I’m sorry that I couldn’t stop myself from loving you. Even if we went back to that time, even if I’m given another chance, I can’t even lie and say that I won’t love you then.’

‘I was selfish. I’m sorry for giving you a poisonous flower… I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’

“Please…”

‘Now that I will never exist—will never have existed—in your world. I hope you can find happiness. May you regain your smile, and may my death liberate you from the tragedies that once held you back. I sincerely hope for that.’

And then her breaths stopped.

Hot droplets fell onto her cold face, but she would never know. The strength gripping her body was also unknown to her. Even her name, desperately called, was unheard.

Carnephelia.

The name of a fiercely poisonous purple flower. The name of a being whose existence was erased from the world.

She felt hot. Felt an instinctive, familiar pain, her breath short as if she had dreamt of losing it.

The blanket felt rough against her fingertips.

Blanket?

It was a struggle to lift her eyelids, and she needed to blink slowly to clear her vision.

“Haa…”

The ceiling was not familiar… or was it?

“Princess!”

It was a voice she hadn’t heard in a long time and one she had never thought she would hear again.

Also, her neck was stiff.

‘Damn it.’

“Oh, Princess! Are you awake? Can you see my face?”

A teary-eyed, middle-aged woman was desperately pretending to be worried.

“…Yes.”

The nanny, who had abandoned her without hesitation, was now in front of her.

Carnephelia’s curse was repeating.

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