HPTL Chapter 1.2

Seven years ago.

In the Cassel Empire, there was a knight known as the “Glory of the Empire.”

He first made his appearance at the age of seventeen.

“This humble one wishes to become the eternal vassal of His Highness the First Prince, dedicating my heart and soul to protect him. Please grant me the honor of serving as Your Highness’s knight!”

At an imperial jousting tournament hosted by the royal family, the victorious knight defied tradition. Unlike past champions who dedicated their triumph to a noble “lady,” he strode boldly toward the First Prince of the empire and proclaimed his loyalty. His audacity stunned the crowd, yet it also stirred deep admiration for his profound devotion.

Vincent Erenstein, the First Prince, true to his characteristically gentle nature, responded with a soft laugh and welcomed the knight, requesting he remove his helmet.

“Please forgive this humble one’s insolence.”

After a brief plea for pardon, the knight complied, lifting the black helm. To everyone’s astonishment, the hair revealed beneath gleamed a silver more radiant than the sun.

In the Cassel Empire at that time, such dazzling silver hair was a trait unique to the Baren Count family, and it didn’t take long for his identity as the eldest son of the Baren lineage to be uncovered.

“It seems the eldest son of the Baren Count family has joined the Imperial Knights for now. Well, if precedent holds, he’ll soon be inducted into the First Prince’s Brighton Knights.”

As expected, the sudden appearance of this silver-haired noble in the empire sparked widespread fascination.

A striking face, exceptional martial prowess, and a noble lineage to boot.

As the official heir to the Baren Count family, his allegiance to the First Prince posed a significant threat to the factions supporting the Second Prince, Roman Erenstein.

That was seven years ago—until the day Christian Baren abruptly embarked on what was called a “lover’s escape.”

 

︶︶︶ ✦ ⋆˚₊⋆ ☽༄༅༄☾ ⋆₊˚⋆ ✦ ︶︶︶

 

“The eldest son of the Baren Count family, Christian Baren, has broken his knightly oath and fled with a commoner woman in the dead of night!

Our Baren Count family hereby expels him for violating the knight’s pledge and sullying our honor. He shall no longer be considered part of the Baren lineage.”

“A lover’s escape, huh.”

Roman Erenstein scoffed.

‘Can that really be called a lover’s escape?’

The “knight” he knew wasn’t the sort to run off for love.

Most of what the Baren Count family announced was likely a lie. That knight, after all, was physically incapable of sharing love with a woman.

How did he know?

“Step back at once. If you come any closer…”

“What’ll you do if I do? Surely the honorable knight of His Highness the Crown Prince wouldn’t kill me, the Second Prince?”

“…”

“Hey, Lord Baren. Think simple. The world won’t crumble just because we tumbled in bed for a night. Last night, you just needed some comfort, and I gave it to you. No harm done. Want me to hold you again?”

…You’re absolute filth.”

“Haha! And who was it panting in the arms of that filth last night? Which family’s son was that again?”

The silver-haired youth who had been the Crown Prince’s knight had shared a bed with none other than Roman Erenstein himself.

“Your Highness.”

Roman Erenstein snapped out of his deep reverie.

Turning toward the voice, he found his adjutant, Sven, staring at him. When Roman raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry, Sven spoke.

“We’ll arrive at Haksil soon.”

“There’s a rumor that a silver-haired man was spotted in Haksil. They say he’s a rare beauty.”

Roman Erenstein cast his gaze out the moving carriage window.

The gates of Haksil, a backwater region nestled in the northwestern corner of the Cassel Empire, came into view.

“Roman, the position of crown prince can change at any time. You may not have claimed it this time, but don’t lose heart. In the end, it’ll be you who takes the throne.”

Roman Erenstein’s mother, Empress Rosalyn Monos of the Cassel Empire, was an ambitious woman.

Born the daughter of the Monos ducal family, she aimed to see her son crowned emperor—and it just so happened that her eldest, Roman, caught her eye early on.

‘But in the end, it was Hyung-nim who became crown prince.’

After years of vying for the title, it was Vincent, his elder brother, whom His Majesty the Emperor ultimately named as his successor.

Roman didn’t harbor much resentment over it.

The role of crown prince never suited him anyway, and upon reflection, being emperor didn’t seem all that appealing either. If Vincent became emperor and he took up a grand duke’s title to support him, he could shirk tedious state affairs and live freely—how convenient would that be?

But… his mother would have to let him go for that to happen.

“Sven.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“What the hell is she trying to pull?”

Roman Erenstein’s voice, laced with irritation, spilled from his lips as he emerged from his thoughts.

Sven Felix couldn’t respond. He sensed the anger seeping into Roman’s faint smile, making it all the harder to reply. Without lowering the corners of his upturned mouth, Roman spoke again to Sven.

“A silver-haired beauty, you say?”

Sven glanced at a man kneeling before them, then mirrored his posture, dropping to his knees before Roman.

“Forgive me, Your Highness! In my haste, I failed to verify properly. It’s my mistake. Please execute me!”

Though Sven’s plea rang with sincerity, his request for death seemed far from genuine. Roman’s eyes flicked between Sven and the kneeling man—a gray-haired elder, not silver—watching their flustered exchange.

“Get out.”

At the chilling command, the gray-haired old man sprang to his feet and scrambled out of the room.

“A silver-haired beauty in our Haksil? Where’d you hear such nonsense? The only ‘silver hair’ in this village is Grandpa Jeff’s.”

And even that wasn’t truly silver.

“A wasted trip.”

For Roman Erenstein, hounded daily by the empress, finding the vanished Christian Baren was more critical than anything else.

If he could just locate Christian Baren, he could carry out his plan and free himself from the empress’s grasp. Irritated, Roman rose from his seat.

“Your Highness?”

“We’re leaving. And Sven— whoever fed us this intel, cut out their tongue at once.”

Sven nodded awkwardly at Roman’s vexed order.

Whether Sven would actually follow through was uncertain, but Roman no longer wished to linger in this remote corner of the empire.

Hadn’t it taken nearly half a month just to get here?

“This humble one will check if there’s a magic gate nearby.”

Reading Roman’s mood, Sven left the inn after speaking.

‘Hmph.’

Haksil was an utterly insignificant village.

In truth, Roman had only learned of a place called Haksil through this journey, driven solely by the rumor of a “silver-haired beauty.” It was his own fault for rushing here on such flimsy grounds.

What a foolish move.

Roman’s face twisted.

“As if that knight would be in a place like this.”

The time wasted—over two weeks—stung bitterly. He could’ve scoured other regions in that span. Unless the return trip could be shortened, his mounting frustration threatened to erupt.

“Mirae! Wait, you’re not Mirae?”

Just then, as Roman flung open the creaking window in his exasperation, a man’s voice reached his ears. Bored and listless, he’d been gazing at the village scenery when his violet eyes turned toward the sound.

“Hello, Uncle Thomas!”

Below the inn where Roman’s room was, a small child in a red hood greeted a startled man with a polite bow.

Propping his chin on his hand, Roman eavesdropped on the child and the man.

He had nothing better to do, after all.

“What brings you all the way here? Where’s your dad? Your mom? Don’t tell me your dad came to the village?”

“No! Papa’s at home—I came alone!”

“Wh- Alone? Good heavens, little lady, that’s trouble! Did you forget what your dad told you last time? Haksil may be quiet, but the mountains are crawling with wild beasts. It’s dangerous for a kid like you to wander alone… Ugh, damn it. Wait here. Let me drop this off, and I’ll take you home.”

“Huh? You don’t have to!”

“Hey now! Listen to your elders. Stay put, got it?”

The red-hooded child reluctantly nodded at the man’s repeated warnings. Roman was about to turn his gaze away from the little one watching “Uncle Thomas” walk off.

“Phew, it’s hot.”

Just as he did, the child pulled down the hood she’d been wearing low over her face.

Fanning herself with a hand and muttering softly, the child revealed her hair color—and Roman’s eyes widened. Flinging the window fully open, he leaped down.

“Eek!”

The red-hooded child jumped, her eyes bulging at the tall man who landed before her with a thud. Roman Erenstein silently stared down at the wide-eyed little girl.

“W-Who are you?”

A black-haired girl with blue eyes gazed up at him, her cherry-like lips parting. Roman studied her for a moment before replying.

“Roman.”

“Roman?”

“What’s your name?”

After glancing around briefly, the girl answered.

“M-Miraera. I’m six! I live with Papa! And I have a pretty Mama too!”

Six years old?

‘She speaks pretty well.’

But hadn’t she been taught not to recite her family details to a complete stranger?

Roman inwardly clicked his tongue at the child’s beaming response, continuing to watch her. Naturally, she couldn’t take her eyes off him either.

“Where’d you come from, mister?”

“Oppa.”

“Where’d ‘Oppa’ come from? You’re not from here, right? I’ve never seen anyone like you!”

“And I’ve never seen you before either.”

Correcting her, Roman replied, then added,

“I’m from Vermar.”

“Vermar? Vermar’s… the capital!”

“Yeah.”

“I read about Vermar in a book! They say it’s full of wizards and knights! Do unicorns really fly in the sky and fairies pop out of fountains? Are there handsome princes and beautiful princesses too?”

“What kind of nonsense-filled storybook did you read? Wizards and knights exist, but unicorns and fairies don’t. They’re just fiction.”

“Oh… I-I see…”

Looking at the disappointed Miraera, Roman continued.

“But there are decent-looking princes—not quite handsome—and princesses too. The Erenstein imperial family’s been known for its beauty for generations.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I read the imperial palace is huge and amazing!”

“It is. At least a hundred times bigger than this village.”

“A hundred times? The palace is a hundred times bigger than our village?”

“Yep, a hundred times.”

“W-Wow…”

As Miraera drooled in awe, Roman decided to ask the question he’d been holding back.

“Mirae.”

“Hm?”

“That hair—is it your real color?”

“My hair? Eek!”

Tilting her head in confusion, Miraera gasped and clutched her head.

“You saw it?”

“I did.”

“The black too?”

“Yeah.”

“Oppa!”

Miraera rushed toward him.

“Can you keep it a secret?”

When Roman blinked in bewilderment, Miraera nodded, her big eyes welling with tears.

“Papa said I absolutely can’t let anyone see this hair color.”

“….”

“Oppa?”

“Your father told you not to let anyone know your hair’s black?”

“Y-Yeah…”

Miraera’s shoulders slumped.

“Normally, I dye it with magic every week! We were supposed to do it tomorrow with Papa, but since it’s Mama’s birthday today, I snuck out…”

“I see.”

“You’ll… keep it a secret, right?”

Miraera hugged his waist, looking up at him with moist blue eyes. Roman Erenstein smirked.

“On one condition.”

 

︶︶︶ ✦ ⋆˚₊⋆ ☽༄༅༄☾ ⋆₊˚⋆ ✦ ︶︶︶

 

“Wait here a bit, Oppa! I’ll go wish Mama a happy birthday and be right back!”

The black-haired girl he’d met in Haksil village was naive.

So naive she seemed almost foolish.

Were children naturally this trusting of strangers?

Miraera had even ignored “Uncle Thomas’s” order to wait, opting instead to drag Roman Erenstein along to find this “Mama.” Before entering a large cabin atop a hill—her home, apparently—she’d repeatedly urged him to stay put.

“Sure.”

‘What a dumb kid.’

What if he’d been a bad person?

A flicker of concern crossed his mind but quickly faded. He was closer to a villain than a saint, true, but he hadn’t done anything to Miraera—yet.

Imagining things that wouldn’t happen wasn’t worth the effort.

“Oppa!”

Roman looked up. Miraera had returned, beaming brightly.

“Did your ‘Mama’ like it?”

“Yeah! She was so happy when I congratulated her!”

“Good to hear. Didn’t she offer to take you home?”

“She did! But like you said, I told her Uncle Thomas was waiting. She wanted to come say hi, but I stopped her!”

“Well done.”

“Oppa.”

“Hm?”

“Are you really friends with my Papa? Is that why our hair’s the same color?”

Miraera likely trusted him now because, moments ago, Roman had lowered his hood to reveal his own hair color.

“Oppa… that hair, is it really yours? Not dyed?”

“Mirae, you wouldn’t get it yet, but in Cassel, dyeing your hair this color means big trouble if you’re caught.”

“Big trouble?”

“You could even die. Do I look dead to you?”

“N-No!”

“So there you go. This hair’s been mine since birth.”

“Since birth? Wow! Then we’re the same! Mine’s been this color since I was born too!”

‘But trusting people too easily isn’t wise.’

Staring at Miraera’s expectant face, Roman replied.

“If your father’s who I think he is, then yeah, we ‘know’ each other.”

“Hehe!”

“Why’re you laughing?”

Miraera, now clutching his hand, flashed her white teeth.

“I’m happy Papa has a friend!”

“A friend?”

Could you call it that?

Roman nearly let out a low chuckle but glanced around instead.

“How much farther? We’ve been walking for a while.”

“We’re almost there! Look! That’s where Papa and I live!”

Quite some time had passed since they’d descended the hill and crossed the village.

Following Miraera’s pointing finger, Roman’s eyes landed on a red-brick house. Unlike the lively cabin on the hill, it exuded a faintly desolate air.

“Mirae.”

Just then—

“Where are you, Mirae!”

The front gate swung open, and a brown-haired man stepped out, calling Miraera’s name.

Roman’s gaze snapped to him.

His heart thudded wildly.

“I’m going to Papa!”

Oblivious to Roman’s excitement, Miraera let go of his hand and ran toward the man calling her. Spotting her, the man scooped her up, and Roman approached.

“Oppa, over here!”

Roman walked forward.

Long legs stretching, strides bold.

As he flung back the hood of his robe, the man checking on Miraera looked up at him.

“Thank you for bringing my daughter ho—!”

Roman Erenstein witnessed it.

Those clear blue eyes trembled fiercely upon seeing him.

The once-radiant silver hair nis ow gone, replaced by dull brown locks fluttering in the breeze.

The man descended into despair as he noticed Roman’s rising smirk.

“Hiding away in a damn place like this made you impossible to find. Wouldn’t you agree, Lord Baren?”

A thrill of triumph curled at Roman’s lips.