Chapter 5: Kyle Lardiah’s Fleeting Time
Kyle Lardiah became an imperial guard knight at the young age of thirteen. His commoner parents, trying to ease the burden of feeding another mouth, pushed him into the knight order. After enduring harsh, almost torturous training, this was his first achievement.
“Kyle Lardiah. You are hereby appointed as a Royal Guard of the Imperial Palace.”
Kyle smiled the day he received his appointment. Finally, he could leave that wretched training camp behind. He could no longer have to endure more daily beatings disguised as “training.”
“Why go to the Empress’s palace? You should’ve aimed to become the Emperor’s knight. Guess you’re not that impressive.”
“Better than someone who’s still not a knight after all these years.”
“You little—!”
His senior, who had always taken any opportunity to hit Kyle, looked furious. But Kyle found it hilarious.
Honestly, his senior wasn’t wrong. Kyle had wanted to become the Emperor’s knight—someone so skilled and trusted that no one would dare lay a finger on him. But he was assigned to the Empress’s palace instead.
With a sulky expression, Kyle arrived at the Empress’s residence, only to realize how wrong he had been.
“Welcome, Kyle.”
The Empress greeted him with a warm smile. Just entering puberty, Kyle froze on the spot, unable to move. That day remained clear in his memory even after years had passed. A warm spring day surrounded by white flowers. The noble Empress had welcomed him and offered a single red rose.
“Th-thank you.”
No one had ever smiled at him or given him a gift before. That smile and the rose meant so much to Kyle that he gave her his heart in return.
From that day on, he picked up a new hobby—tending flowers. Not because he liked them, but because he wanted to find a way to preserve the rose she had given him for as long as possible.
***
“Thirteen? That’s very young. To be a Royal Guard at that age and from a commoner’s background—impressive.”
One day, while watering the garden at the request of the Empress’s gardener, the Empress spoke to him. She found the sight of a boy in knight armor tending flowers refreshing and paused to speak.
“I’m sorry… for being young and a commoner.”
Kyle assumed she rejected him and bowed his head. But the beautiful Empress laughed and gently lifted him up with her hand.
Even that slight touch made Kyle panic. She was the Empress—a noble woman far above a lowly boy like him.
“That’s not something to apologize for, Kyle. I was complimenting you. It’s amazing what you’ve achieved at your age. Who cares if you’re a commoner? You’re more impressive than most noble boys your age.”
“…Thank you.”
Tears welled in Kyle’s eyes. She was so kind. Too kind.
“Why are you crying?”
“It’s… the first time I’ve heard something like that.”
“I thought you were a brave knight, but you’re a crybaby.”
She handed him her handkerchief and gently waited for him to stop crying.
***
From that day on, Kyle had two treasures: the dried rose and her lace handkerchief.
He often held the handkerchief tightly in secret. He knew he should return it, but couldn’t bring himself to.
“Your Majesty!”
After that day, the Empress began treating Kyle like a younger brother. She gave him special attention, and Kyle loved it.
“You like touching soil more than swords, don’t you, Kyle?”
“Because soil doesn’t hurt anyone.”
“That’s your strength. How about becoming my gardener instead of a knight?”
When she joked like this, Kyle would scratch his cheek shyly with his dirt-covered hands.
“When I can grow a flower worthy of giving you, then I will.”
His face turned bright red with embarrassment. Everyone in the Empress’s palace laughed at his innocent reaction.
“And this flower?”
“This one’s not mine. I just helped Mr. Martin with it.”
“I see. Then I’ll look forward to your own.”
She smiled kindly. But… at some point, that smile disappeared.
It happened after the priestess—the “goddess’s representative”—came to the palace.
“Did you hear? His Majesty…”
“He fell for the priestess! Can you believe it?”
“But what can anyone do? She’s a divine messenger… Poor Empress.”
Dark rumors spread, and the once-bright Empress’s palace grew gloomy. Then came the storm. The day the rumors were confirmed.
Kyle sneaked into the Empress’s garden, worried about the flowers he was tending.
“……!”
There, in the shadows, he saw her.
The Empress was crying alone in the rain, hidden among the flowerbeds. Thunder roared above, but no one heard her sobs—except Kyle.
He didn’t know how to comfort her. So he simply stood by silently until the storm passed.
***
Later, a new gift arrived for the Empress.
“Congratulations, Your Majesty. You are pregnant.”
The palace was full of gifts and celebrations. But the Empress did not smile.
During her entire ten-month pregnancy, the Emperor never visited her once. Kyle, guarding her room, decided to give her a rose to make her smile again.
But the rose wouldn’t bloom. Disappointed but determined, he vowed to try again once the child was born.
He was fourteen, about to turn fifteen.
***
“Waaah! Waaah!”
The Prince was born.
Everyone rejoiced—except the Emperor, who never showed up. The palace maids were furious.
Even though the Empress smiled faintly at the baby, it wasn’t her old smile.
“Oh… It failed again.”
The rose didn’t bloom.
Instead, Kyle gave her a different flower he had grown.
“Thank you, Kyle.”
She smiled more brightly this time. It made him happy. He wished only good things for her.
But happiness didn’t last.
***
“Please, Your Majesty!”
That night, Kyle begged and begged.
He knelt before the Emperor, who had gone mad in rage.
“You can’t! Please, don’t!”
The Emperor grabbed Kyle’s hand. But Kyle, only fifteen, couldn’t stop him.
Why me? Kyle thought over and over. He closed his eyes.
“Ugh!”
Blood splashed onto Kyle’s hands, his cheek, his clothes—everywhere.
“Dispose of her.”
The Emperor, who had killed the Empress in a fit of rage, gave a cold order and left.
“Ahh…”
Even after everyone else left, Kyle couldn’t move.
“Uhh… Uh… guh…”
He sat there, making broken noises.
His breath trembled. His hands shook violently.
What have I done?
He didn’t want to know. But the red stain on his hands and the carpet screamed the answer.
“No… Nooo!”
He collapsed, pounding the floor, crying uncontrollably. Nothing could comfort him. Even if he didn’t want to do it—even if it wasn’t his will—the truth didn’t change.
His sword had taken the life of the woman he loved.
“Waaaah!”
Over his howling, another cry echoed in a room—the cry of an infant.
Kyle paused.
The prince was crying too.
How long had they cried together?
Eventually, Kyle picked up the baby and held him close.
That night, two people who loved the same woman lost her together.
After that, Kyle left the palace. He couldn’t bear the memories.
***
“P-please, spare me!”
“Why should I?”
Blood splattered.
At sixteen, Kyle killed a man.
He had been wandering when soldiers from a foreign country attacked. He fought back—and kept killing until even the enemy commander was dead.
That earned him honor and status. But he didn’t care.
He wandered the battlefield like a madman, trying to forget the feeling of killing the Empress.
Slash, stab, kill—again and again.
Even after bathing in the blood of thousands, the scent of her blood never faded.
People who saw Kyle laughing among piles of corpses called him The Blood Wolf.
“Ahahaha!”
He laughed in the rain, washing blood off his sword.
People thought it was the laugh of a victorious devil.
But no one knew… that every time he laughed, it ended in tears.
***
“Kyle Lardiah. For your service, I grant you the title of Count.”
The Emperor, now loathsome to Kyle, gave him a title at age twenty.
It was unusual for a commoner, but no one dared object—his achievements were that great, and he was terrifying.
“Sure.”
Kyle sneered. He hadn’t done this for a reward.
While Kyle rotted on the battlefield, the Emperor rotted in his palace, along with that so-called “goddess” Cecilia.
“What a joke.”
Looking at her dressed like royalty, Kyle couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“I’m just as rotten now…”
After the ceremony, he muttered to himself.
His once-bright purple eyes had grown dull, like the Emperor’s.
***
“The Prince…”
Just as Kyle was about to leave the palace without regrets, he overheard that word.
“The Prince?”
The Empress’s only child.
Kyle’s eyes sharpened.
How had he grown? Did he look like her?
But the next words shattered him.
“He’s been locked away with just one nanny…”
Kyle stood before the crumbling palace and whispered.
No servants, no one—just imprisonment.
He was furious.
He went to see the child.
There, in a small garden, sat a tiny boy.
“Hey, flower… Is my mother as pretty as you?”
The child was talking to a flower.
Kyle answered before he realized it.
“She’s even prettier.”
“Really? Have you seen her?”
The five-year-old’s eyes sparkled.
“Yes. Your eyes—blue like the sky—are just like hers.”
“Wow! My eyes are like my mom’s!”
The boy touched his eyes in wonder.
Then he said something that pierced Kyle’s heart.
“So… when I look in the mirror, I can see my mom.”
She lives in him…
Right then, Kyle swore to protect the prince.
To do that, he needed power.
He stole many lives to gain power—just to protect one.
“Kyle Lardiah. I grant you the title of Duke.”
An unbelievable reward.
Kyle had destroyed a foreign royal family. He was 23—the same age the Empress had died.
He finally got what he wanted.
He rushed to the prince’s side.
He would become his guardian, just as he had protected the Empress.
He thought… maybe he could meet her again.
***
“Duke?”
Blink. Kyle opened his eyes. He had fallen asleep—right there in the corridor.
“You’re sleeping here now?”
His aide, Mejang, looked at him with disbelief.
“I guess I was tired,” Kyle murmured, standing up and leaning on the wall.
He gazed out the window and said quietly,
“I should bring that woman home.”
“What?”
Mejang’s mouth dropped open.
That woman? Now? What’s going on today?
He quickly chased after Kyle, waving his arms in confusion.
