Chapter 1: Prologue
In a dungeon where not even sunlight could properly penetrate.
The stench emanating from the mold-covered walls was piercing my nose, and the stone walls sent a bone-chilling cold straight into my flesh.
My ankles, shackled, had lost almost all sensation.
Above all else, the excruciating thirst and hunger tormented me.
Creeeak—
Just then, the sound of a door opening echoed from down the corridor.
The involuntary shrinking of my shoulders was more out of defiance than courage.
Damn it, what kind of torment would it be this time.
The sound of footsteps approaching from beyond the iron bars grew louder and nearer.
I swallowed dryly, but the person who finally arrived in front of my cell was not the guard I had expected.
In the basket that this person carefully set down, there was bread.
My hands reached for it faster than my mind could grasp the situation.
Bread so hard, the kind only commoners would eat, something I would not have even glanced at before.
Desperately, I stuffed the bread I hadn't tasted in who knows how long into my mouth.
“Cough, choke.”
I discarded all pretense of dignity, choking as I greedily ate the bread, and a water bottle was passed through the bars.
Only after gulping down the water did I finally take notice of the face before me.
It was a familiar woman's face, seen somewhere before.
Who was she?
I pondered for a moment but couldn't recall.
“Th-thank you. But who are you?”
The woman hesitated for a moment before answering.
"...I once worked as a servant in the Duke's household.”
“I see. If I ever get out of here, I'll be sure to repay you.”
Her face clouded at my words.
Sympathy was what shadowed her expression.
In the past, I would have considered it impertinent.
But now, finding it hard to meet her gaze, I focused on finishing the remaining bread and water.
Then the door opened again, startling the woman. She gave me a brief nod before quickly retreating.
“Wait, just a moment-”
My words failed to stop her.
Instead of her, the guard with the endlessly unpleasant face I'd seen countless times appeared, revealing yellow teeth in a sneer.
"Did you enjoy your last supper, Duke?"
***
"Kill the one with the filthy blue blood!"
A rotten egg flew, bursting upon my chest, splattering in all directions.
More suffocating than the foul smell and discomfort was the shimmering malice of the crowds filling the streets.
In Lumière, once the capital of the Kingdom of Francia, only the flags of the so-called revolutionaries fluttered.
Liberty, equality, philanthropy.
In a city filled with the chilling sound of the guillotine's blade falling day after day, these slogans etched on banners seemed grotesquely out of place, dancing wildly in the hands of the frenzied mob.
"Cough!"
Suddenly, my vision whitened and wavered.
I only realized I had been hit by a stone when a sticky liquid trailed down my forehead and my view involuntarily dropped to the ground, catching sight of a large object.
From that point on, I couldn't clearly remember how I was dragged away.
When I finally regained my senses, I was already standing before an outdoor tribunal.
"...On behalf of the citizens of the Republic, I, the prosecutor Maximilian Le Zidor, charge Duke Pierre de Lafayette with these crimes and request the death penalty."
No sooner had the prosecutor finished speaking than the crowd surrounding the tribunal, no, the mob, began to shout in frenzy.
"Kill him!"
"Death penalty!"
"Death to the corrupt nobility!"
My gaze involuntarily drifted to the guillotine right next to the tribunal.
What was the point of such a mock trial?
"Duke Pierre de Lafayette."
As the judge called, I looked up to see him looking down at me with an arrogant expression.
"I will give you a chance to defend yourself."
It was a statement tinged with the nuance that no matter what I did, it wouldn't change anything, but they'd give me a chance out of formality.
It probably meant nothing...
It probably meant nothing, but rage welled up within me.
The royals shed endless blood in a civil war to claim the throne, and the nobles squeezed the lifeblood from the commoners to sustain this strife for years.
I can understand how that led to a revolution and the current situation.
But the trials they are conducting are neither just nor fair.
Even those without significant charges, and those who were once praised by the common folk, have been shamefully framed and executed.
I did nothing to deserve being treated this way and facing such a wretched death!
“As the Duke of Lafayette, I did my utmost to protect my subjects and served loyally as a general for the kingdom. To be treated like this—”
“Ha, protect the subjects.”
Prosecutor Zidor's rude interruption of my words made my expression involuntarily darken.
“The Duke himself led troops to pillage cities during the Civil War, and there is evidence of that. Not once, but three times.”
...It was true.
Those were actions I took under the orders of my father, the previous Duke.
“That was a military action against the lands of the treasonous Second Prince's faction during the civil war—”
“Oh, so because it was during a civil war, attacking your own citizens is justified? Tell me, Duke, did the citizens of that territory directly support the Second Prince and take up arms for him?”
The taxes of those citizens became military funds, and they turned into the army of their lord, opposing us.
Thus, attacking the enemy's territory was a military operation against them, and also a way to gather the military funds demanded by the previous Duke.
Even if I disliked it, it was necessary during the civil war.
At least, it was better than levying additional taxes on the already impoverished people of my domain, burdening them further.
...That's what I had thought.
I clenched my teeth.
“...At least during the civil war, I restrained from imposing additional levies on my territory and took all measures to protect them! The claim that I only massacred and exploited the commoners is nothing but a one-sided excuse to vilify the nobility.”
At least, I was different from my father, the previous Duke.
I despised the nobles who were bloodthirsty to exploit the commoners and gain merit in the civil war, striving to be a different kind of lord than them.
That was my pride, and even if I were to die, I didn't want it to be under such a humiliating false charge.
Having all my efforts negated and being remembered just as another 'corrupt and depraved noble' rightfully executed by the revolutionaries was unbearable.
"Ah, is that so? Then, let me ask you, Duke. Among your subjects, is there anyone who felt protected by you, grateful for your 'generous' governance, willing to defend you?"
The crowd burst into scoffing and jeers at Zidor's words.
They never intended to conduct a proper trial in the first place!
Filled with anger and about to retort, I froze upon hearing Zidor's next words.
"If there is, at least mention a name. Perhaps someone here might miraculously come forward to defend you."
...I don't know.
The names of my subjects? I have no idea.
Zidor smiled slyly, seeing my reaction.
"Of course not, Your Grace. Among those you so proudly claim to have protected and cared for in your territory, do you even know a single name?"
Only then did I realize I didn't even know the name of the woman who brought me bread and water, who had worked at the Duke's house.
"Aren't you nobles the ones who memorize the names of nobility you've never met?
If you hadn't regarded them as insignificant beings unworthy of knowing their names, surely among those you cherished, there would be at least someone whose name you knew. Duke, that's why you nobles are called the blue-bloods."
I was supposed to be different from my father.
Different from other nobles.
I have always loathed them.
I struggled to be different from them!
Yet, my belief and all my efforts were washed away as worthless in the mocking jeers of the crowd.
"Look at this hypocritical noble! Even one who claims not to be corrupt, it's clear they've always regarded us not as equals, but as livestock, isn't it?"
Amidst the jeers of the crowd, I saw Zidor's triumphant smile.
No, it can't be.
Was I really no different from the other nobles?
It couldn't be true.
Zidor's shouts echoed hollowly in the tribunal, and the same verdict that had been passed down to hundreds, thousands in this city, was declared for me.
"...In the name of liberty, equality, and philanthropy. This Republic's court sentences the defendant Pierre de Lafayette to death."
As I was dragged away by rough hands, I realized I was crying.
The scent of blood, seemingly never to fade, was overpowering at the guillotine.
Only the crowd's jeers, disgust, and mockery were etched in my eyes.
I don't want to die.
At least, not like this.
If only, I had one more chance.
The chilling sound of the guillotine's blade falling scraped at my ears, and a terrible sensation enveloped me.
"Aaahhh!"
I woke up shuddering.
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