Chapter 44: You Are a Pure White Rose That Blooms Like Foam

She had been the woman who raised him in place of the queen mother. A wet nurse and a loyal servant. If she was his wet nurse, she should have accompanied him to his exile for recovery. But before Louvero sent him away, he had disposed of Alereza, sending her off somewhere unknown.

One day, Alereza’s absence from the palace became apparent, and Alec could do nothing about it. Whether Louvero was a violent bastard or the product of an affair by a concubine no longer mattered once he became emperor.

He was, after all, the emperor. Regardless of how strong the opposition to him might have been within the palace, he held enough power to erase a single maid from the imperial household.

The powerlessness left Alec numb, incapable of thought. Alereza, of course, was not a woman who had been purely warm to him. She may have been his wet nurse, but she held no true affection for him.

“I love Your Highness because you are who you are—a prince. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t love you. That’s why you must survive. If you want to be loved, you have to live. If you want to command others, prove yourself. Do you understand?”

For the first time,Alec remembered her eyes, and the memory filled him with anguish. He wondered what Alereza would say if she saw him like this. How would the people who once claimed to love him react upon learning how far he had fallen?

They wouldn’t love him anymore. They’d see him as useless. After all, to maintain power in the imperial court, they needed a strong card to play. And that card had been utterly ruined.

A master who cannot reign is no master at all. The moment a pet dog sees its owner as weak, it turns to bite their throat.

Perhaps they had already forgotten him. Perhaps they were now biding their time, searching for a new card to play. Instead of coming for him, they might already be seeking a new master in the capital, someone worthy of their loyalty. Or maybe they had already bowed their heads to Louvero.

The imperial court had always been that kind of place. Had he forgotten? Or had his years of absence dulled his memory of its nature?

Alec rubbed his eyes. Then, he heard a rustling sound.

“Daddy?”

It was a girl. In her pajamas, she rubbed her eyes before looking up at him again. Alec glared at her with dark, hollow eyes.

The girl’s eyes widened when she realized the intruder in her house was Alec. His mind went blank for a moment. Then, driven by blind rage and fear, he lunged at her, pinning her down and wrapping his hands around her neck.

All his pent-up fury and terror poured onto her small frame.

“Hngh—ugh!”

“Die.”

He whispered faintly to the choking girl, her glassy eyes reflecting the crimson streaks in his own. The tears welling up in her eyes made him want to gouge them out and crush them underfoot—or perhaps lick them clean.

A twisted duality churned within him. What was this girl to him? What could such a child possibly be to him? His mind was a storm of chaos, each day more exhausting than the last.

“Wha—what are you? What gives you the right? What gives you the right to look at me like that?! How dare you make a fool of me!”

Alec hated this girl. He hated how, knowing nothing, she dared to approach him. He hated her smiles, her greetings. He even hated how her tiny frame—a mere acorn of a figure—dared to intervene, as if she could save him with just one punch.

It was all misplaced pity, a condescension he didn’t deserve. If anyone in this world had the right to pity others, it was Alec himself.

And yet, this child… this child…

Suddenly, the girl’s small hand brushed against his rough one. It didn’t push him away but instead gently stroked him, like an attempt at comfort.

With a harsh flick, he swatted her hand aside and tightened his grip around her neck. A tear fell, unbidden, rolling down his cheek onto her soft, round face.

Her hands, which had been flailing weakly, moved to his cheek and touched him. The warmth of her palm—so soft and cozy, as if fresh from under the covers—radiated into him. His face twisted in anguish.

Clenching his teeth to suppress the sobs welling within him, he tried to hold on. But he broke.

The memory of Alereza came rushing back. She, who had once told him she would only love him because he was a prince.

When he came to this village, a few had followed him—those loyal to him alone, not to Louvero. But one by one, they had left him. A master unable to reign was not worth following.

He had been abandoned. A king rejected even by his hounds. He wasn’t worth keeping alive. The belief that he could return to his rightful place was nothing but a delusion. He knew it, but still, he couldn’t bring himself to die.

He squeezed his eyes shut. The hand that had been brushing his cheek fell limply to the floor. Startled, Alec opened his eyes and looked down at the girl.

“…!”

He released her neck and scrambled off her, trembling. Was she dead? Had she died? His mind went blank, a void swallowing every thought.

“Don’t die! Please, don’t die!”

His voice broke into a hoarse scream, trembling with raw fear. His instincts recoiled at the idea of her death. Not because death was unfamiliar—he had seen death many times, from his parents to the countless lives lost in the palace. Death was routine in the imperial court.

He shouldn’t have been afraid. Even if he were executed for killing a village child, it would be no more than he deserved. He was already a beggar, a pariah, forgotten for two years. Death might even be better.

But he was afraid—not for himself, but for the girl. Her death terrified him in a way his own did not.

His eyes were soaked with tears, the salt stinging his face. Desperately, he began pressing on her chest and breathing into her mouth, doing everything he could think of to bring her back.

“Please, no. Please…”

The memory of her innocent smile flitted before his eyes—a smile that asked for nothing in return. He knew. He had always known. Her kindness wasn’t pity; it was pure, genuine goodwill.

“Afrosa?”

At that moment, a monk appeared in the doorway, a medical bag slung over one arm. He must have just returned from a house call.

“I-I killed her… I… I…” Alec stammered, his voice cracking as he dissolved into sobs.

The monk pushed him aside and checked the girl’s condition. Alec, trembling violently, reached out to touch her pale cheek, his heart pounding so fast it felt like it might explode.

The monk worked swiftly, administering emergency care. Alec crawled toward the girl on trembling hands and knees. As he looked at her closed eyes, more tears spilled down his face.

“Afrosa!”

The monk shook the girl gently, calling her name. Finally, her eyelids fluttered open, revealing soft blue eyes beneath.

It wasn’t the sharp, vivid blue of the sea but a tender, gentle hue. Like the meeting of the horizon and sky on a clear day, unbroken by a single cloud. That serene light touched Alec in that moment.

And that was when love began.

---

For over a month, the monk’s daughter bore a red mark around her neck. When the villagers asked what had happened, she said she had been attacked by a vicious beast.

Alec no longer lived alone. Nor did he live as a prince. In the end, he never proved his worth, but he was no longer tormented. Just as he had forgotten his mother, he forgot his brothers and the retainers who once served him. The monk took him in as an errand boy.

The monk spent a long time persuading the villagers to tolerate Alec, reminding them that persecuting an orphan would make it difficult even for the divine to have mercy on them. While they never fully accepted him as one of their own, they ceased their scorn and abuse.

One twilight evening, he accompanied the monk on a visit to a neighbor who lived near the chapel.

“Afrosa,” the girl introduced herself belatedly.

The monk’s daughter, who claimed a wild animal had torn her neck, remained kind to him. Her kindness felt like mockery at times, yet it was something Alec had never once experienced—gentleness without strings attached. It stirred an unfamiliar feeling within him.

“Afrosa Cateline,” the girl said, her sand-colored hair braided in twin plaits.

Alec already knew her name. The villagers called the monk Brother Dallas, and he referred to his daughter as Afrosa. In an ancient tongue, Afrosa meant “foam,” like the legend of the queen who, pursued by a neighboring kingdom’s prince, ended her life on the castle walls and turned into seafoam. The spot where her blood had fallen sprouted a pure white rose, hence the name.

Afrosa, the unattainable lover, often symbolized love one could never possess. Whether the monk had chosen the name with this meaning in mind, Alec didn’t know—and didn’t care.

Afrosa was as beautiful as a white rose. When light fragments glimmered in her glassy eyes, they sparkled with different shades of blue.

Alec approached the girl, who sat among the grass by a flowing river. His footsteps rustled softly, causing her to glance up at him. Her gentle eyes, shrouded in the reddish-blue of twilight, appeared darkened and subdued.

As he gazed at her, his heart began to race. Afrosa’s kindness was unilateral, devoid of reason, unlike his malice, which was always purposeful. Alec had never encountered such unconditional understanding or affection. It was an attack he couldn’t defend against.

Even his own mother had not offered him unyielding love. Nor had there ever been a woman in his life worth hanging onto for lack of affection.

Even his wet nurse, who had once held him to sleep, had coldly told him, If you become useless to me, I’ll discard you without hesitation. That was the kind of place he came from—a home where love had to be earned, where survival was proof of worth, much like lion cubs pushed off cliffs. The palace was merciless and cruel.

Growing up, Alec constantly sharpened his edges against the hostility of his half-brothers. He lived in perpetual fear of betrayal, always bracing for the moment someone would slit his throat. Yet, he never let that fear show. Watching everyone with suspicion, he had survived like a caged animal.

Unconditional love was impossible. He had neither given nor received it. Yet now, for the first time, he saw beauty in it.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Alec,” he replied.

Afrosa repeated his name, testing its syllables. “Alec, Alec.” She smiled as she spoke.

He sat down beside her, silently observing her. That morning, after he had choked her, the first thing Afrosa had done upon waking was to look for him.

The monk didn’t expel him. Instead, he offered Alec a bowl of warm oatmeal and milk. But Alec hadn’t touched it. He had waited by her bedside until she regained consciousness.

“…Can I call you Alec?”

He didn’t answer. He just stared at her twilight-hued eyes. Afrosa pursed her lips at his silence and attempted to rise, but he grabbed her hand. Startled, she looked up at him.

“Can I call you Afrosa?”

Her blue eyes sparkled, as serene and beautiful as flowing water. She trembled slightly, then nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes!”

Her smile was bright and round, like a full moon. Alec wondered why she had never once been angry with him. Why did she approach him, even while fearing him? His chest buzzed with a strange, unfamiliar ache.

The mark he had left on her neck was stark even in the dim light. He stood and walked toward her. Afrosa tilted her head to look up at him. Gently, Alec pressed his lips to the bruised mark on her neck.

Afrosa flinched, her shoulders rising in surprise. Alec closed his eyes, briefly letting his lips rest against her skin. She smelled of plums and honey. Slowly, a small hand grasped his collar with a tentative grip.

“You smell nice, Afrosa,” he murmured.

His heart was pounding, as though confronted with something entirely new. Her soft breaths made him dizzy. Startled, Afrosa pushed him away, and he let her. He stepped back, watching her with a faint smile. Her nose turned pink with embarrassment.

“You’re such an idiot!” she blurted, her lashes trembling as she bit her lip.

Alec watched her retreat, running off into the distance. The monk, seeing his daughter approach, caught her in his arms. From the safety of her father’s embrace, Afrosa glanced back at Alec.

A breeze swept through. Alec thought he wanted to win her heart. And Afrosa…