If You Take the Enemy Prince as Your Knight

“Look at me.”

The power of the imperial family manifested through gaze and voice. It didn’t matter whether the target was conscious or not. As long as they had functioning sensory organs, that was enough.

My gaze delved into his mind. Forcing someone into submission without consent wasn’t an easy task. Under normal circumstances, it would be impossible to dominate a hero hailed as the treasure of Lohengrin. However, his body, mind, and even his mana core were in complete ruin right now.

“Huu…”

Even after pouring the potion, a stream of liquid trickled from his left eye. That physiological tear was likely the only form of resistance he could muster. A small emblem briefly surfaced in his left eye before vanishing.

I removed my hand from his eyelid and gently wiped away the tear. “It’s over now. You did well enduring it.”

And then—

“I’m sorry.”

He would surely resent me. But when the greatest threat to him was himself, I couldn’t find a better way.

For the first time, I gave him an order.

“Stay alive, Regen.”

✦

Regenhart Lohengrin. The third prince of Kingdom Lohengrin and the cornerstone of the Easter Alliance’s military strength. His final battlefield was the snow-covered Great Canyon. Towering, sheer cliffs flanked loomed on both sides, blocking any escape, and behind him stood the last fortress with its iron gates firmly shut. He had made his final stand, facing the Empire’s forces alone.

“Your Highness Regen, reinforcements will arrive in two days. Please hold out for two days—just two.”

The one speaking was his most trusted friend and the kingdom’s brilliant strategist, who had protected their kingdom until now. He understood how desperate the situation had become—so much so that even he couldn’t devise a better strategy.

“This is the best course of action we can do in the current situation.”

“If I last two days, do we stand a chance?”

“You know me. I only make the best choices.”

There were very few capable of fighting. Ordinary soldiers held little significance as a military force in battles between knights.

Regen decided to head into the battle alone. It didn’t matter. As a prince, he had always fulfilled his duty. He had lived with the conviction that protecting the weak and powerless was his calling. In fact, the thought of not having to watch someone die by his side even brought him a strange sense of relief.

For two entire days, one man battled an entire legion. No matter how brilliant the Empire’s strategists were or how cunning their plans were, it didn’t matter. His sheer strength surpassed the level of combat, rendering tactics meaningless.

“Bu-Butcher of Lohengrin!”

“Die! Hiik!”

He, who was called a treasure in his kingdom, was known as a devil to the enemy. As if driven purely by instinct, he swung his sword countless times, severing the necks of his enemies. Like wildflowers torn from the harsh winter wind, imperial soldiers in droves. White snow descended from the sky, draping the corpses in a shroud of snow.

The cold was sharp enough to freeze his blood in the veins, while the heat from his overworked heart twisted in his entire body. Just as his overexerted body began to signal its limits, a flag appeared through the flurry of snow. He thought it was reinforcements. But as it entered his line of sight, he recognized the emblem of the Empire—a blue eagle.

What truly shattered his spirit, however, came next. The fortress that should have held its defense steadfastly suddenly, inexplicably, opened its gates.

“No!”

He had fought to the death to defend that gate. And now, all that effort had been in vain.

Moments later, a figure emerged from the stronghold, escorted by imperial soldiers—someone who had taken the royal family hostage.

“You should have died before witnessing such a disgrace, Your Highness.”

It was his closest friend. The kingdom’s strategist.

“What have you…”

“You know me. I always make the best choices.”

“This is, the best choice?”

“I acknowledge the difference in perspective. I simply chose my best over Your Highness’s best. And my current best choice is…”

A blade pierced through Regen’s right chest.

“Betrayal.”

A week later, the third prince of Lohengrin was officially declared dead.

✦

When Regen opened his eyes, the first thought struck him. I still have eyes left to open? One of his eyes was completely intact. It was as if it had never been injured in the first place—his vision as sharp as ever.

He rolled his eyes around, surveying his surroundings. A ceiling adorned with elaborate paintings. Luxurious drapes and bedding. Beautiful, elegant patterns decorate the walls. Vases of flowers were placed here and there. Everything about the space was completely unfamiliar.

For the first time in a long while, his thoughts were coherent. The aftereffects of battle and the torture he endured had left him feverish and his consciousness flickering in and out. But now, his mind wasn’t just clear—it was frighteningly sharp.

His memories, scattered like a broken mosaic, began piecing themselves together. The snow-covered Great Canyon, two days of battle, his friend’s betrayal, being captured, being tortured, and the execution ceremony. When he recalled up to that point, a question rose in his mind. Why am I still alive?

Annihilating the royal bloodline was the final step in a complete conquest. If the Empire had any sense, they would never have let a prince live. And yet, his head was still firmly attached to his shoulders, his mind still functioning. He tried to recall how he had survived, but a headache, sharp and cold like an ice shard digging into his brain, interrupted him. He assumed it was an aftereffect of the torture.

Aside from the parts of his memory that seemed to have been cut away in chunks, fragments started to come back to him. Like a slave, he had been dragged in front of the emperor, his ankles chained to those of other prisoners. He vaguely recalled hearing words like spoils of war, gifts, and the voice of women. Among them, one memory stood out more vividly than the rest…

“You’re mine.”

A chill ran down his spine as if something had burrowed deeply into him.

“You’re awake?”

“…”

Drawn by the voice from his memory, he turned his head. Behind a fluttering curtain, the silhouette of a woman was visible. With graceful and gentle movements, she pulled the curtain aside, revealing herself.

The woman reminded him of the beautiful white sands he had seen as a child. Her long, flowing platinum-blonde hair gleamed like fine sand under the sunlight. Her pale blue eyes were like ice water—cold and transparent, perfectly complementing her composed and emotionless expression. She was like a white beach in the dead of winter. That was his first impression of her.

As his brief impression ended, rationality took hold. A woman of such extraordinary beauty, as if she was stepping out of the painting in the heart of the imperial palace, could only be one of the two things. Either one of the mad emperor’s countless concubines or one of the eight surviving imperial princesses.

“You, are…?” His voice was rough, scraping against his throat.

The woman kindly poured water into a crystal glass and handed it to him.

“I’m the sixth princess of the Empire, Rosasia Trinite Magnarod.”

The daughter of the mad emperor. He wasn’t particularly surprised by her introduction and greeting, which were offered as easily as the glass of water. Sitting up, he took the glass and sipped just enough to moisten his throat. His vocal cords functioned a bit more smoothly after that.

“You are the one who was given possession of me.”

“…It wouldn’t be unreasonable to remember it that way.”

The princess’s tone was slightly odd but not enough to intrigue him.

Regen got out of bed. Even when he moved his legs, there was no pain at all. He checked the rest of his body, and aside from his right eye, he was mostly recovered.

After setting the empty glass on the nightstand, he slowly wandered the room, pretending to simply be admiring it. The princess sipped her tea indifferently, making no effort to watch or restrain him.

“This is my first time in an imperial princess’s chambers.”

“This is my first time bringing a man into mine.” She spoke so nonchalantly that he couldn’t read her intentions.

Under her silent approval, he stepped out onto the balcony. A grandly landscaped garden and fountain stretched before him. To the right, an opulent building—likely the main palace—loomed.

As he gripped the railing, a cold wind blew, ruffling his white hair. The winter wind, which must have traveled all the way from the northeastern great canyon where he had spilled so much blood, seemed to carry a faintly metallic scent.

He took in the scenery before him for a while. At a glance, from the side, he looked like someone who was just realizing that they had stepped into the heart of the Empire.

“…Second floor.”

“Yes, just the second floor.”

The swift reply made him turn to look at her. The princess, still calmly enjoying her tea, continued speaking without even meeting his eyes.

“Even if you jump, you won’t die.”

“…”

She had seen through his desire to die.