Nothing but a poor commoner.

That was how Koshmar saw himself as.

The mere thought of catching a glimpse at the imperial palace was a dream to him.

His mother constantly told him he must never harbor any feelings for the imperial Weylyn family. After all, he lived in the side were Ragnar was, not Weylyn.

Koshmar should have been a child belonging to Ragnar.

But somehow, he found himself dragged into the great palace of Weylyn.

“How could I be the rightful heir to Weylyn?”

Forced into a room that seemed more like a library with papers scattered here and there, Koshmar could not help but feel insignificant among the hundreds of books and the men calling themselves the imperial high court.

He knew how to read and write. The people from the village he came from always perceived knowledge as their only chance of survival, since they were trapped in between the two empires.

The king of Ragnar, as soon as he sat on the throne, made sure that knowledge was not bottled up in the capital. He taught them the essence of living, agriculture and most of all, that war was but one thing.

‘The waste of young men’s blood as a result of old men’s useless chattering.’

Koshmar looked up to him. The king was perfect in his view. The King of Ragnar changed what was once a kingdom into an empire as soon as he sat on the throne.

But he still died.

Because he did not will to hold a sword.

“Your father is his majesty the emperor. We were instructed to bring you into the palace when his majesty falls terminally ill. From here on, we will personally teach you all about the empire. The internal and external affairs. How to act like a royal and who you should be acquainted with and who you must avoid in all cases.”

Koshmar was a poor commoner. And because he was, he knew of princess Freya and the deeds she had done for the poor. She was the female representative of the king of Ragnar, and so, Koshmar did not wish to steal what rightfully belongs to her.

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“What about the princess? Her highness fits the role of the heir and the future empress more than I do!”

His opposition did zero effect on the court’s mindset.

Koshmar’s perspective varied greatly with their standpoint. But no matter the difference in viewpoints, he knew that the court’s words were absolute.

Because they brought him in even if that risked the public discovering his origin. And even if Freya was more than capable, she was still a woman in their eyes.

And women in the court’s eyes were nothing but weak living beings. Both physically and mentally.

“Princess Freya and you are different. Her highness is easily moved by emotions. Her actions are seen as reckless by the high court. But you will not falter. Even if you have to kill hundreds, for the greater good, you will do so.”

Koshmar was shocked.

The smile which was on his face when he walked into the palace, excited to see the gentle princess, disappeared entirely.

The words stuck in his throat remained there.

The group of old men in fancy attires in front of him screamed intimidation.

‘How can an heir be someone like me?’

No matter how many thoughts crossed his head, they all connected.

His mother warned him of the imperial family of Weylyn although he lived in Ragnar.

The court found him as he was running away.

It’s almost as if all this was staged.

Which means his assassination was planned since the beginning as well.

‘I should have been killed as soon as I was born.’

‘Why was I born in the first place?’

Numerous thoughts raced in his mind. Koshmar never wanted this but he knew he had to do it.

All because of what he had done.

All to repay for the sin he committed.

A sin which was planned for him to commit.

The guilt weighed down on his heart. Maybe if he wasn’t born in the first place, then he wouldn’t have had to die. A person of such great importance would still be alive now if Koshmar never existed.

“From here on you are the crown prince of Weylyn, Koshmar Weylyn.”

Another man stepped from behind and walked up to a shaken up Koshmar.

“I will be your royal tutor for the next week. You have to learn everything regarding the empire before his majesty officially announces you the heir to the throne.”

The man crept awfully close to Koshmar’s ear to whisper in a low voice.

“You… just have to follow everything we order you to.”

Koshmar’s quivering blue eyes slowly scanned the high court’s faces.

It was frightening.

A chill forcefully travelled down his spine.

He could only see the darkness enveloping them and the evil grins stretching from one ear to the other.

It was a feeling similar to drowning. In the lust and hate, menacing glares and the ominous feelings of whoever’s in the palace.

The future emperor of Weylyn drowned into the bottomless dark ocean.

It was then that Koshmar realized the reason he was born.

He was never free in the first place.

Koshmar was not just an heir.

He was a pawn.

And maybe, just maybe, he could have been worse.

If Freya never-