I Added D*ugs to Romantic Fantasy

It was said that not even the Chinguk could be relied upon.

Not just unreliable, but now practically the enemy.

‘Why on earth?’

Princess Anais Carlisle couldn’t grasp it at all.

What was so significant about that tribute?

The amount was too large, yes, but why not return it and revoke the trade privileges altogether? Wouldn’t that make sense?

Strangely enough, doing so would result in the emissaries’ deaths, they said. To maintain the emperor or empress’s infallibility, the lives of their subordinates were expendable, which seemed absurd. Wouldn’t that cause more problems rather than resolve them?

‘Could they be making excuses?’

The question crossed Anais’s mind.

The Empress, perhaps perceiving the doubt in her expression, sighed.

Anais flinched, thinking her thoughts were uncovered, but the Empress didn’t reprimand her. Nonetheless, it brought her little comfort, as though the Empress considered her not worth scolding. If only her mother had gotten angry, Anais might have clung to her and begged for guidance.

“You don’t seem to trust my words?”

“…Mother.”

“It’s my fault for not having taught you well.”

The Empress then dismissed the emissaries from the Chinguk Empire, who despite their impending doom, bowed respectfully.

Three bows followed by two deep salutes. Even the younger underlings, trembling with fear on the verge of tears, maintained their decorum without exception. The Empress accepted their bows as though it were utterly natural.

How could they do so? These people.

Anais watched them, slumped in despair, but no suspicion lingered as it had moments before. She realized they were attempting to protect something, whether custom, injustice, or honor. Regardless, this allowed her to grasp one firm truth:

Placing her expectation in the Chinguk Empire had been a mistake.

‘What should I do now?’

She swiped the tears that incessantly rolled down her cheeks.

Even as she repeatedly wiped them, new tears welled up, yet now was not the time to cry. She needed to find a way to survive.

Anais fidgeted her lips, lost in thought—though it wasn’t exactly deliberation. She was merely preoccupied, repeatedly asking herself, “How?” while trying to steady her breathing. Her mind was murky, her chest heavy, with no clear answers emerging.

Should she plead with her father?

Or perhaps her kin?

Just then, the Empress’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“There’s another person who will decide your fate. Would you like to see them?”

Though it seemed random, it wasn’t entirely so. Anais had subconsciously murmured, “What will happen to me now?” Her mother was merely responding.

Anais weakly nodded.

When she glanced up, she noticed her mother was also crying.

Only then did Anais understand her mother hadn’t been lying to her. She also realized she had dragged her mother into her troubles.

“I’m sorry, mom.”

These words lingered unspoken in Anais’s mouth.

—

At the pitch-black dawn.

I headed towards the morgue at the outskirts of the State.

Though there were several morgues set up in or near the State, this one was a national facility managed by a military hospital.

A temporary resting place for the bodies of deceased soldiers before they were buried in the military cemetery according to tradition.

There was someone here I was meant to meet.

Judging by the carriage parked near the morgue, they had arrived before me.

“They came. Though likely pushed into it.”

A gaunt figure soon emerged from the carriage.

Clad in a simple dress, her hair covered by a linen bonnet, the girl’s face showed exhaustion beyond mere weariness, but I could still recognize her.

Princess Anais Carlisle.

Out of the three princesses, she was renowned for having the most illustrious background.

The lucky one who managed to escape severe punishment despite a crime so grave it could obliterate even the most prominent family—and the fool who threw away that luck, standing there waiting for me now.

I had invited her here because it was, naturally, at the Empress’s request.

Last night, the Empress had requested through Siena, “Pass it on to Alan. Help my child survive.”

“Your Highness, Princess Anais. It has been a while.”

Anais stared emptily, utterly powerless—an attitude that hardly matched her reputation of causing calamities before her pardon. Of course, it wasn’t due to guilt but exhaustion after last night’s events.

“Why here…? Cough.”

Her choked voice and occasional cough betrayed her condition. Her eyes were horribly swollen upon closer inspection. I felt no pity.

I’m no one to feel sympathy, and we were technically enemies. Still, her broken spirit might make conversation possible.

“If it weren’t for Her Majesty’s request, I wouldn’t have brought you here.”

There was a reason why I lured her to the morgue.

I wanted her to abandon any futile hopes of revenge and accept her wrongdoing. If she cooperated quietly, the process would go faster.

“Let’s go inside.”

“Mother… surely…”

“Yes. Her Majesty also entrusted me to guide you towards a path of survival. I intend to follow her wish. I didn’t bring you here randomly. Please come with me.”

After gauging my tone, Anais followed my orders.

We entered the morgue with the guidance of a staff member.

Each morgue room was cooled with frost magic, leaving a chilly, piercing atmosphere. Faint odors lingered, slightly masked by mint. Anais, seemingly aware she herself stood at death’s door, looked around fearfully.

I hadn’t brought her here to intimidate her.

But there was something I needed to show her—more specifically, someone.

“We’re here, Your Highness.”

“Huh?”

Upon reaching the farthest room, Anais widened her eyes in surprise.

She was understandably shocked.

Lying before her was the corpse of Leon Rothe Dale.

The worst deserter in Imperial history, who had passed away only a few days ago. His body, transported to the State as soon as he died, still retained its lifelike appearance. Even the posture—from the straight legs to the crossed arms protecting his torso—seemed frozen from the moment he died.

“…Is this…”

“Yes, Leon Rothe Dale.”

“Hah…”

Anais alternated her gaze between me and Leon, her mouth releasing a puff of white breath.

Her eyes grew redder and her tightly clenched fists trembled. I had a rough idea of what she was thinking.

“I didn’t bring you here to mock you, Highness.”

“Call that… a proper statement?”

“It doesn’t matter if you take it as mockery. Given the gravity of the situation, how you feel is irrelevant. To put it simply, Leon Rothe Dale’s honor will depend on your decision.”

“Honor…? He is already dead,” Anais started, cutting herself off.

Had she deciphered my intentions? Even if not fully, she seemed willing to hear me out at least.

“Your Highness.”

“…”

“If you accept part of Leon’s crime, his body can be returned to his hometown for burial. Actually, Leon Rothe Dale’s parents are already in the State, hoping to retrieve their son’s body.”

Anais sharply gasped.

“If you confess that you maliciously provoked Leon to his actions, we can return him to his parents. However, if you insist you are innocent and claim you simply advised him via letter to use narcotics, things will take a turn for the worse.”

“What do you mean by worse…?”

Anais’s voice started to waver.

Mostly due to the cold, yes, but not entirely.

I intentionally paused before continuing.

“The bereaved families of the fallen soldiers are enraged. Not just them, but his colleagues too are filled with fury. As a result, there’s a high possibility Leon’s body will be buried in an ‘dishonorable cemetery.'”

“A dishonorable cemetery?”

“It’s an area where criminals are buried without even a gravestone. Once buried there, the family’s wishes to move the body are irrelevant. …Not only that, commemorations are forbidden. It would be a life sentence to remain a criminal, even in death.”

“Ah…”

“But if you meet with His Majesty and confess your sins, and if you formally request to abdicate, Leon might receive leniency. If you do this, I too will submit a positive report to His Majesty.”

Anais’s choices would dictate Leon’s posthumous honor.

Truthfully, her intentions mattered little. Regardless, I intended to pin the blame on her, and already had. However, if she willingly accepted punishment from the Emperor, it would work in everyone’s favor.

‘Then there’s no need to pressure the Emperor separately.’

I decided to give her a moment to deliberate.

Anais stared at Leon’s body, unable to believe it was him.

A young prodigy who might have led a life filled with honor if not for the narcotics, now lay still with a grotesque expression frozen on his face from a euphoric, yet deadly, demise.

What thoughts crossed Anais’s mind at the sight?

“Oh, Aah…”

She was crying, overwhelmed by emotion.

Was she reminiscing over her innocent academy days? Reflecting on her misguided choices? Or worrying about her future if she admitted guilt? Whatever it was, it was not guilt she felt.

“Ah…!”

Anais wept, shedding delicate tears.

After some time, when her tears had dried up, she slowly nodded and whispered, “I’ll do what you say. Please return Leon’s body to his family.”

I nodded in agreement.

“Well considered.”

This would secure Anais’s survival.

Just barely.

Whether it was something to celebrate remained unclear.

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