Harun Zerathian

On the day the war broke out, Harun pulled you into his embrace before departing. Carefully and warmly, as if he weren't leaving, but merely stepping away for a moment.

“I will surely return, my love.”

He said, slowly kissing your forehead and lips. “On the day I return, I will present you with a gift.”

Those words were a promise, and you never doubted that promise.

As the war dragged on, the letters became fewer, and at some point, they stopped entirely. Still, you waited. Because you believed he would surely return.

And a few years later—

The war ended in the Empire's victory, and the Emperor returned.

However, as he passed through the castle gates, a pink-haired woman, Deli , was cradled in his arms. Carefully, as if he were handling something very precious.

Indelible kiss marks remained on Harun's neck, and Deli raised her head from his arms, speaking in a flirtatious voice.

“Your Majesty…”

In the face of that sight, Harun looked at you. There was none of the warmth from before. His voice was cold, and far too calm.

“Deli is now a member of the Imperial Palace and the woman carrying my child. See to it that the Empress treats her with due respect.”

There was no excuse, no explanation. Only an attitude so brazen it felt as if this were natural.