If You Conquer Me

Although she had been born from the queen’s womb, Queen Yuliana had always ignored her daughter.

“How could you be my daughter?”

The cold gaze she had thrown at Ophelia still lingered in her mind. Her siblings were no different.

“Don’t look at me.”

“How dare you call me Sister? Don’t be so presumptuous.”

Mockery and disdain poured down on her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

And then.

“You were born with such a lowly color, so it’s no wonder I’m mocked alongside you!”

Even though her hair and eye color had been inherited directly from him, her father had grabbed her black hair and raised his voice.

Though she had been a half princess without divine power, Ophelia had wanted to be recognized in some way, even if it was in some other aspect. That was why she had taken up the sword and, after much struggle, had achieved accomplishments that could rival those of a knight. But still.

“You can’t help being lowborn.”

“Sweating and swinging a sword, really…”

The only response she received was greater ridicule. That was when Ophelia realized. No matter how much effort she put in, without divine power, silver hair, or green eyes, she would forever be a lacking presence in her family’s eyes. She would never overcome it.

Ophelia felt her vision darkening.

“Princess.”

At that moment, someone called her name. When she turned around, gentle violet eyes were looking down at her with a soft gaze.

His light brown hair, neat and tidy, looked like it had been drawn with a fine brush, and his violet eyes, resembling amethyst, were filled with concern and worry as they gazed at the woman.

Christian Toledo—her childhood friend, the only one who had ever looked at the despised princess without prejudice. He was also her swordsmanship master.

The woman parted her lips.

“…Christian?”

“How disappointing.”

His unnervingly low voice mocked her, as if he intended for her to hear it.

“Mistaking someone like this is a bit much.”

It was an unfamiliar voice. But at the same time, it was a voice she could never forget. After all, this voice…

“Hah!”

The woman gasped sharply, her eyelids sharply open. It was as if she had been dragged up from deep water, and her mind was clouded and dizzy.

“Ha, ha, ha…”

She gasped again, her vision slowly coming into focus. The surroundings were entirely dark, except for one thing that shimmered faintly in gold—the golden hair, disheveled across his forehead, gleaming like white jade.

“You’re awake, princess?”

The man with an overwhelmingly dazzling appearance leaned down, his hands shoved into his pockets as he looked at her from above.

His crimson eyes scanned her as though analyzing her, and as soon as their gazes met, he flashed a smile. The woman’s eyes widened in shock.

“You…!”

The woman instinctively tried to retreat, before letting out a soft moan.

“Ugh.”

A sharp pain shot through her arm as it pressed against the bed. Looking at her body, she saw that her limbs were tightly bandaged. The medical work appeared quite precise—clearly, someone had treated her injuries with care.

It was then that she noticed the faint smell of disinfectant in the air. Beside the bed, a first-aid kit and bottles of medicine were neatly arranged, evidence of the treatment she had received.

“…You saved me?”

The woman looked at Hugo with a confused expression.

“Why?”

“Well, first of all, it’s not ‘you,’ it’s Hugo.”

Hugo, with a mocking shrug of his shoulders, asked lazily,

“Or does the noble princess not even want to remember the name of the royal dog’s servant?”

His tone was blatantly derisive. But the woman did not seem intimidated in the least.

“You’re probably just as reluctant to remember my name, aren’t you?”

Hugo, taken aback by her unexpected response, narrowed his eyes.

Ophelia Lewen Ascanior retorted sharply,

“If you know I’m the princess of Ascanior, you must also know my real name.”

To call her by ‘princess’ after destroying her kingdom—it was nothing short of a sick joke. Ophelia felt a wave of disgust rising in her chest.