The Duchess's Manor.
"You must be Lady Lysia Yuli Elisa, Princess Elisa, correct?"
"Lady Yuli has been expecting you for a long time."
"..."
Returning to the Holy City after many years, Elisa was overwhelmed with emotion.
She remembered being a small child twenty years ago, witnessing the severed heads of her parents hanging from the city walls, branded with fabricated crimes by the Church.
She harbored a deep, burning resentment toward the Church.
But back then, all she could do was follow her mother's tearful instructions: flee first with the diamond tiara that symbolized the Empire's sovereign power.
Over the years.
As the former First Princess, she struggled just to survive. Under the cover of night, she scavenged for scraps and was forced into a life of constant flight because she stole clothes to replace her rags.
Eventually, she mastered her inherited bloodline... the ability now whispered about as a "Succubus," along with a body that feared light and heat.
She began to steal only from those she despised—corrupt nobles and the wicked.
She also discovered that no matter how much scrap food or wild fruit she ate, her hunger never vanished. She had known all along that only blood could truly sate her; her mother had warned her that after coming of age, blood would become a necessity.
But to go from a royal life to a white-haired monster drinking blood in the gutters—for her, the wound to her dignity was far more painful than the act of theft.
She had protected the diamond tiara fiercely, for once lost, the sovereignty of the nation could never be truly reclaimed. But that brought a haunting question.
How long could this life last? Even if the Church kept a puppet on the throne because they lacked a legitimate heir, how could she, the bearer of the crown, ever... restore her kingdom?
Even while wandering in silence.
Elisa would keep the only black dress her mother had gifted her at her coming-of-age ceremony impeccably clean, without a single wrinkle.
Without a ballroom, she would stand alone in dark caves, closing her eyes and imagining she was at a royal banquet. Even with no one to watch her etiquette, she would repeat the movements toward the dark woods, practicing.
She felt that if she forgot her manners and royal pride, she might as well be dead; this was the only way to alleviate the guilt of stealing and drinking the blood of young women.
This life lasted twenty-three years. There was no end in sight.
Until.
Elisa received news.
Her aunt, once a branch member of the Elisa family, had now become the head of the most powerful family in the Holy City.
They released a cryptic public message.
It mentioned a daughter with beautiful hair and eyes who had been lost during the internal strife of the Holy City years ago.
"..."
Elisa knew very well that her aunt's family had no daughters.
Specifically mentioning the hair and eye color... they could only be referring to her.
Was she anxious?
When one grows used to living like a sewer rat, surviving only on the blood of young women and covering the shame by stealing from "bad people" to feel righteous... one becomes numb.
She didn't want to face it.
It would just be another night of drinking a young woman's blood, perhaps making a mistake in her hunger.
"Ah... you... you're the Succubus! A monster!"
Being cursed at was normal.
Her ability could make them forget anyway.
But that look of terror made Elisa remember long ago... when she visited the poor with her mother. Her mother had the same beautiful snow-white hair, and despite her status, she never looked down on them.
She would politely ask if they needed help selling their vegetables. Elisa still remembered how, after the vegetables were sold out, her mother praised the quality... and the vendor's eyes filled with genuine, heartfelt tears.
The Elisa family was not a demonic lineage... even with this constitution. They had never harmed anyone.
So, she straightened her posture and sent a letter to her aunt in the Holy City.
Soon after, she was invited.
She observed for a long time, feeling the shadow of the Church still loomed over the city. But her aunt's power was indeed vast.
She remembered being nursed by this woman when she was a baby. That kind, motherly face.
The respectful attitude of the knights at the manor gate lowered her guard. She thought her aunt must be the same... wishing to restore the glory of the Elisa family.
She saw her.
Her aunt was dressed provocatively, seemingly having just finished an intimate encounter.
"Don't mind me. Your uncle is a Duke guarding the border, away all year. Your aunt is only human, after all."
"...It's fine, I understand."
In truth, Elisa found the infidelity distasteful.
"So, did you bring the Inheritance Stone? To restore the Elisa family, we must have it."
"Yes."
Nervously, Elisa pulled the diamond tiara from her pocket.
"So beautiful. As beautiful as my lovely niece. This white hair... just sitting there, you have the charm to seduce any man. Did you know? I wasn't supposed to be just an 'Aunt.' I was supposed to be the Empress."
"Auntie?"
Squish—
Completely unguarded, Elisa felt a knife plunge into her stomach. And once it was in, it didn't stop. It twisted.
"But that bitch mother of yours enchanted him. And so, I was forced to marry a Duke—a useless waste who could never satisfy me. If I want power, I have to collude with the Church."
"They kept saying this stone was important, that I had to find it. I... really never wanted to see your face again."
"...Why?"
The Princess realized too late. Her aunt was prepared; her powers were useless against the cross hanging between the woman's breasts.
"Why? Does it matter?"
Her face was slashed. She looked at her once-kind aunt and saw only concentrated loathing.
What could she do?
She blamed her own naivety, her desperate hunger for her lost dignity. She had felt the suspicion... yet she came anyway. She didn't want to believe an Elisa could be the mastermind of the betrayal.
Despairing, she closed her eyes and waited for death.
Creak.
The door was pushed open.
"Duchess, she is my mistress."
"...Hm? Has my lovely niece been doing such things? Just like her mother."
"..."
Elisa saw the swordsmanship instructor she despised walk in, shirtless. There were strands of a woman's hair on him; it was obvious... her aunt had been playing with him in this state.
If she had to choose a way to die... she would rather have killed the traitor and taken as many of the evil Church members with her as possible.
Thud.
But the knife never came down again. When she opened her eyes, the Duchess lay collapsed before her.
She saw Silas rummaging through the room, searching for treasure for a long time. Finally, he lifted the Duchess's nightgown.
"Goddammit, it was hidden here?!"
"..."
She had heard that some royalty or nobles liked to keep male playthings, then imprison or execute them once they were satisfied to keep the secret. To her, Silas was just a male whore who stumbled upon a murder and decided to rob the place before fleeing.
"Do you have the energy left to use your memory-wiping ability on her?"
"...No."
If she had the strength, she would have killed both her aunt and the man before her. Even though she had never killed before, she was capable of it now.
How did it come to this?
Stabbed by the "kind" aunt of her memories, and now forced to watch this lecherous lowlife commit a robbery.
"Fine."
Upon hearing her answer, Silas plunged a knife into the Duchess's heart. Not satisfied, he drove it into her neck as well. Then he began cleaning up the most obvious traces.
"Follow me through the back door."
"...I have no interest in being a man's mistress. If you have those thoughts toward a woman who is practically a corpse... ?!"
Before she could finish, her breast was squeezed firmly.
"Shut up if you don't want to die."
Silas nervously watched a pair of knights passing the back gate. He had to stay out of their sight.
"..."
Elisa gradually lost the sensation of pain in her belly. She was numb. Even with half her intestines spilling out.
She thought.
If she could ever stand again, she would cut this man who defiled her into a thousand pieces. Then, she would stop living like a rat and find the Pope. If she could hang that man's head on the same wall as her parents... perhaps the Elisa name would be redeemed. She would rather die with an infamous reputation than perish in this dark corner, with her body taken by such a despicable creature.
I'm sorry, Mother. It turned out to be a fate more tragic than living a whole life as a sewer rat.