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A week is a very short time.

But sometimes, a lot can happen in just that week.

One of those things was the news of the Emperor's death.

The announcement of the Emperor’s passing threw the Empire into chaos.

All the nobles wore mourning clothes.

Trade among merchants paused briefly, and even ordinary citizens refrained from going outside.

Everyone was in the process of mourning the Emperor’s death.

Thus, preparations for the Emperor’s funeral were swiftly underway.

Traditionally, the Emperor's coffin is paraded around the Imperial Capital with the four Dukes.

For this, the capital was cleaned more thoroughly than ever, and knights were stationed throughout.

They made sure to prevent any incidents from happening during the funeral.

On the day of the funeral,

the sky was especially dark, as if it too mourned.

Within a room touched by the gloomy sky’s light through the window,

a woman slowly rose from her bed.

Ink-black hair tumbled down as she moved.

She suppressed the deep shadows under her eyes that covered her face—

a face that showed she hadn’t slept a single moment.

As she lowered her hand,

brilliant ruby-red eyes were revealed.

The chilling intensity of that deep red gave her a decadent aura.

Her name was Iris Hysirion,

the third Imperial Princess.

Behind her back, she was also known as the Last Villainess.

Today was the day she would bid her father farewell.

She stepped out of her room.

Maids approached to assist her with preparations.

She dressed in formal black mourning attire.

In the past, Iris had shown some warmth to her maids.

But today, she didn’t say a single word.

By the time she was fully dressed,

a familiar face appeared—

Hania Rapidedia,

daughter of the Imperial Knight Commander,

and a girl who had always deeply admired Iris.

"Lady Iris..."

Hania called out, her voice tinged with sorrow.

She had taken a leave from Zerion Academy and come straight to Iris.

But Iris did not treat her as she once did.

She addressed her no differently than she did the maids—coldly and flatly.

Hania said nothing about this.

Instead, she quietly followed Iris wherever she went.

Then, Hania softly spoke,

“Vikamon is coming.”

Iris flinched at the name.

Turning to Hania, she saw the girl’s worried expression.

"Perhaps... you could get some sleep today?"

Iris had always been able to sleep when Vikamon was nearby.

Hania was suggesting she take the chance to rest, to escape her nightmares—if only for a while.

But Iris turned her head away after a moment of silence.

"I'm fine."

Iris had already made her decision the day she chose to become Emperor.

"I don't need to sleep."

Dreams are sweet, but they’re hollow.

So Iris chose to face reality instead.

She understood that she could never escape this place.

So she would live in reality,

even if that meant living the life of a villainess.

Iris walked until she reached the grand hall.

In the distance, she saw the Emperor’s coffin.

The Emperor had succumbed to a long illness.

Though he hadn’t achieved much to be called “great,”

he also hadn’t been incompetent.

He now lay inside a coffin surrounded by pure white flowers.

Strong knights stood ready to carry the coffin—

loyal warriors who had served the Emperor all their lives.

Some were already middle-aged, like the Emperor himself.

“Iris.”

A familiar voice rang in her ears.

She turned to see a man with platinum-red hair.

A very familiar face—

the one that most resembled the late Emperor.

First Prince, Lukraizen Hysirion.

Even in black mourning attire, he shone brilliantly.

Anyone looking at him would nod, saying “That’s a man born to be Emperor.”

"Older brother."

In contrast, Iris's mourning clothes only highlighted her worn-out state.

And yet, her dangerous, alluring beauty inspired a sort of reverent awe.

They were opposites—

One, the bright midday sun.

The other, the pitch-black night.

Opposing powers faced each other.

Two who would soon battle—through blood and sweat—for the throne.

"You don’t look well."

“On a day like this, it would be strange to look well.”

Though she hadn't been particularly loved by her father,

a father is still a father.

Rejoicing on the day of his death would be madness.

“Is that so? I’m not entirely sure I agree.”

But to those who crave power,

there could be no greater opportunity than this.

The death of a ruler is the perfect time for a new one to rise.

“I suggest you refrain from making careless remarks today.”

Iris, with no emotion on her face, advised him plainly.

Lukraizen gave a hearty laugh.

"Iris, I want to become Emperor."

A shocking declaration.

Certainly not something to be said here and now.

Iris narrowed her eyes at him.

He then looked toward the Emperor’s coffin.

“Look. So many people have gathered to mourn His Majesty’s death. Some of them wouldn't show up even if the royal family summoned them personally."

The Empire was powerful—

but also enormous.

Such a vast land held countless lives.

Could the fear of the Imperial family truly reach the outer provinces?

Sadly, it could not.

Local nobles held independent power structures and pledged loyalty only in name.

In truth, they were the rulers of their regions.

Even a royal's command meant little to them.

And yet—

they still bowed before the Emperor’s words.

"This nation is full of deep-rooted problems."

No nation can ever be perfect.

All humans are inherently self-centered in their thinking.

If you ask them to strive for perfection, they will only impose their own version of it, thus creating more problems.

However, if the one who governs them is exceptional, it becomes a different story.

Humans living within the fence of society can undergo infinite change depending on the nature of their ruler.

“To solve these problems, the only way is to become the Emperor.”

Such is the position of the Emperor—

One who shoulders the lives of countless citizens and charts the course of their future.

“The role of Emperor is a bundle of duties. You must sit at the desk all day, work through the night, and constantly look after whether the people are living well.”

A position without responsibility is meaningless.

It is nothing more than an empty title.

“And because of this, Emperors often fall ill. Including our father, the past Emperors suffered under excessive duties and died young.”

“That’s a blasphemous thing to say. The title of Emperor is one granted by the divine.”

“But even the divine did not allow immortality or eternal life. The role of Emperor is the same.”

Lukraizen quietly stared at Iris.

“Do you truly believe that an immortal Emperor would fulfill his duties properly?”

There was a deeper meaning behind those words.

“It is because humans have a finite lifespan that they strive to achieve more out of regret and longing. But for someone with immortality or eternal life, it’s meaningless.

Whether they succeed or fail, time will pass and everything will be forgotten eventually. That’s why time and lifespan are valuable.”

Before they knew it, Lukraizen had stepped right up to Iris.

“I live in the present. Instead of worrying about the future of my lifespan, I move forward by asking myself what I can do now. That is why I aim to become the kind of Emperor who can shine brightest in the present.”

Lukraizen’s crimson eyes gleamed sharply.

“But Iris, what about you?”

He asked.

“Do you truly wish to become Emperor to shine in the present?”

He was asking for her true intentions.

“Do you seek to become Emperor to make this vast empire prosperous for the people?”

Iris looked at Lukraizen.

Lukraizen was a clever man.

He had ambition enough to desire the throne and the charisma to lead the masses.

Even as the First Prince, he had already achieved many accomplishments.

Some even claimed that if he became Emperor, the empire would enter its greatest era.

And compared to him—what of Iris?

“But, Brother, you cannot trust people.”

Her next words made Lukraizen pause.

His eyes took on a strange glint, like a child whose secret had just been discovered.

“A person who cannot trust others would tremble in fear all day, wondering what might happen beneath them.”

Severe stress invites all sorts of illnesses.

There is nothing as fragile as a human under stress.

“And you, Brother, would likely become the first Emperor to die prematurely.”

Ha.

Distrust of others.

To be precise, distrust of everyone except oneself.

That was Lukraizen’s long-hidden weakness—one he had kept buried for life.

But Iris saw right through it.

And it made sense—because Iris herself was in the same position.

Naturally so.

To be a royal fighting over the throne was to constantly live under threat.

They were born and raised in the very center of raging power.

For a child raised in such power to fully trust others?

Impossible.

Even one's own family might be a rival for the throne.

To them, other people were always something to be watched and guarded against.

“Iris, then do you think you're different from me?”

Lukraizen asked.

He found it somewhat ridiculous to hear such things from someone like her, who had also lived her life for the throne.

“Yes.”

Iris walked past Lukraizen.

“I am different.”

She believed in someone.

And that someone had earnestly asked her to believe in them.

“You asked if I wished to become Emperor?”

Iris looked at Lukraizen.

“So do I.”

Iris’s crimson eyes shone brightly.

Lukraizen’s eyes slowly widened, and he clenched his fists.

Iris had been a puppet of the Celestial Grace.

All her intentions were the Duke’s will.

She had gradually lost interest in the throne.

But under the claws of the Celestial Grace, she was forced to fixate on it once more.

Lukraizen had believed that was all there was to it.

But now, facing Iris in person, he felt differently.

Iris may be the puppet of the Celestial Grace,

But she was not one who had lost her own will.

She wanted to become Emperor.

Clearly, she had her own motives and strategies.

Lukraizen now understood why Vikamon had failed to persuade her—

Why he had instead tried to help her through other means.

‘Hoo…’

Lukraizen exhaled silently.

So much for climbing the throne easily.

He had thought she was just a house cat raised within the family—

But now, she had returned as a tiger.

Lukraizen’s gaze turned far into the distance.

There, four Dukes were each making their way toward this place.

Would Iris realize her ambitions?

Would the man who came here plant a new meaning in her heart?

Time would tell.

And so, the Emperor’s funeral finally began.