Creatures with thick, sturdy shells are accustomed to concealing tender insides.
Such a tendency was not limited solely to biology. When observed, human psychology proved to be no different.
The tougher the shell, the more fragile and tender the core inside.
The Fifth Imperial Princess, Shi-en, was no exception.
In her childhood, she had endured countless wounds. “The Eyes of the Dragon,” which possessed the ability to read the inner thoughts of others, brought her an indescribable terror from those around her.
Every person she met revealed either fear or disdain. These were the kinds of experiences even adults with strong minds found difficult to endure.
Certainly, a mere maiden who had only just begun to speak would have no chance of withstanding such trials.
Thus, within the princess’s heart, invisible wounds began to accumulate. Slowly, the girl’s world began to shrink inward.
Every person hated and despised her. Consequently, it was inevitable that Shi-en learned to distrust all.
Perhaps it was fated. The ability to read someone’s inner thoughts meant seeing through to their very core—and that sight was far from pleasant.
Through “The Eyes of the Dragon,” Shi-en had learned that humans were, without exception, wretched creatures driven by desires. At times, she even entertained thoughts of gouging out her own eyes.
Her exquisite beauty, far from providing solace, only exacerbated her misanthropy.
A haughty and beautiful woman was considered rarer than a gemstone. Men were consumed by the desire to possess her, while women harbored jealousy. Shi-en naturally came to understand: humanity was inherently ugly.
The Fifth Princess therefore had no choice but to believe that notions like “purity” or “sincerity” were mere fantasies.
Occasionally, this realization brought with it a deep loneliness.
No one treated her genuinely, and her reciprocation was equally false. That was how solitary and desolate her existence became.
Without a single exception.
Every relationship was built on pretense and deception, even her beloved Airen and Shi-en’s personal chamberlain. Both were driven by their own calculations—whether avarice for wealth, a yearning for fame, or even lust.
No person Shi-en encountered treated her without ulterior motives. That was why, when she first met I-an, she misjudged him.
I-an Fercurus was, after all, human—and all humans were bundles of desire. Thus, it followed logically that I-an Fercurus acted on his own desires.
This clear syllogism left Shi-en little room for doubt.
Still, the first time she met I-an, she was somewhat confused.
Looking at him through “The Eyes of the Dragon,” she found his inner self as opaque as ever. She had not felt this sense of mystery since meeting the Empire’s illustrious swordmaster in her youth. Still, Shi-en clung firmly to the belief in humanity’s inherent wretchedness.
The result was a disgrace she would never forget—being drenched by a bucket of water.
That nightmare burned her heart for a long time afterward.
Paradoxically, after that day, encountering I-an actually became easier. His psychology, blurry though it was, began to become clearer.
However, that revelation did not alter the nature of their relationship. Even if I-an had changed, Shi-en remained trapped in her own confined world.
The maiden consciously negated and distorted any emotions the man revealed to her.
Every feeling seemed like a charade or mockery. Moreover, the thought that anyone felt pity for her was unbearable.
She didn’t want to return to that era.
The days where she would huddle alone in her bedroom, trembling at the thought of meeting anyone—it was an existence she had long since resolved to leave behind. She had made countless firm promises to herself to never revert to that weak, pitiful girl.
Perhaps that’s why she aggressively provoked and pushed I-an. It was a fruitless endeavor, but an act that functioned as self-defense: the more she expected, the more she was bound to be disappointed.
After all, his emotions were nothing but a temporary pretense.
It was only a fleeting act of good intent overpowering his desires, Shi-en reminded herself over and over. Swearing never to believe again, the desperation in her heart sometimes spilled over into extreme actions.
But when she faced him in the cave, Shi-en’s logic faltered.
How is this possible?
Did he genuinely accept all the hatred and suffering without asking for anything in return?
It was impossible. Surely it was a lie.
However, as the festival began, her foundational assumptions shattered.
When she entered the cave, her trusted confidants had been compromised, and her loyal guards exploded around her. Her mental fortitude was pushed to its absolute limit.
It was then that Miltram’s words pierced her mind like a sharp needle.
As the hidden truths unveiled, Shi-en’s mind began to piece together an undeniable answer. Even so, she refused to accept what her logic revealed.
How could she admit to such a reality, given all the sins she had committed?
She had turned I-an’s kindness into hatred, resulting in the tragic death of promising guards—and her life itself now hung in the balance.
Had Miltram spoken the truth, how could Shi-en ever stand before that man again?
She would have to atone even beyond death.
And so Shi-en found herself trapped in despair.
That was until he appeared—the man she had internally condemned and insulted so much.
A mixture of blood and water flowed.
It was just moments before Miltram would gouge out her eyes when a ripping sound echoed through the cave. The dark man’s severed arms fell to the ground.
It was I-an Fercurus; he had arrived just in time to save the princess.
Though afterward, she endured the humiliation of having her head trampled, Shi-en’s tears were not born of shame.
Each word Miltram uttered was like a dagger to her soul.
Even when Miltram, the dark priest, urged I-an to leave Shi-en behind, she, in her heart, silently agreed. Despite everything, asking for salvation at this point seemed shamelessly improper.
Even so, I-an saved her.
His body was visibly battered and bruised. And when he slapped Shi-en’s tear-streaked face, as she repeatedly apologized, she was both shocked and strangely reassured.
She wanted him to beat her until she was unrecognizable; wasn’t it better to be punished this way?
Yet, I-an denied her that wish.
Holding her as the cave began to collapse, he smiled bitterly and simply said,
“…Thank heavens you are safe.”
For the first time in her life, Shi-en truly witnessed someone’s naked sincerity.
There was no hint of desire. If this man had been like the others, he would have surely abandoned the princess under such dire circumstances where his life was clearly at stake.
Realizing this, Shi-en finally whispered aloud, breaking into uncontrollable tears.
A real, unfeigned sincerity existed in this world. A genuine human being, no pretense, was right before her eyes.
But by the time Shi-en realized this, it was already far too late.
The cave began to crumble.
Drugged and unable to move properly, Shi-en pleaded through her sobs.
“Ah… Airen… you must… you must save Sir I-an…”
“…I apologize, Your Highness, but I cannot waste Sir I-an’s sacrifice.”
Airen’s voice was choked with emotion. Helpless to move her own body, Shi-en could do nothing but cry.
This can’t be happening. I’ve only just found it.
The only ‘real’ person in her life, the sole individual who had treated her without an ounce of pretense.
Memories of the past cut into her heart like a blade. Why hadn’t she realized this sooner? The man she had hated so much was, in fact, her only lifeline.
But regret comes too late no matter how quickly it arrives.
Just as Airen barely managed to escape the collapsing cave, an explosion echoed through the cavern. Dirt and debris began to fill the space.
It was as if the earth itself was burying a corpse. Watching this, Shi-en’s eyes filled with despair.
Unable to endure her torment, she continued to sob uncontrollably, pounding her fists on her chest.
Airen’s expression, too, was somber.
A measure of responsibility for I-an’s death rested on her shoulders. As a knight, she had fallen short, forcing her lord’s survival to depend on the mercy of another.
Thus, Airen could do nothing but bite her lips and bow her head in silent reproach, mourning the passing of the man she had served.
Hours later, word reached Shi-en that I-an had been fortuitously rescued.
—
The story continued beyond, but the above translation captures the depth of emotions expressed in the original.
