(Riana POV)
I am Riana Alin, born destined for greatness in the future.
The house where I was born is one of the oldest homes in the world.
Our home, over three thousand years old, has produced many knights and powerful individuals throughout history.
As the only child born to House Alin, I was the heir to this great home.
My father and mother were strict but kind and caring.
I lived a disciplined life from a young age, and when I turned eight, I held a sword for the first time.
At that moment, I felt as if this weapon had been meant for me all along.
The first time I fought my fencing instructor, I defeated him effortlessly.
That day, my talent was acknowledged, and I was considered one of the greatest prodigies in the world, a candidate for reaching the rank of Grandmaster in swordsmanship.
My life continued in this manner—waking up every day at sunrise to train with the sword, followed by lessons on the history of our home and the world.
Although I never truly liked studying, I tried my best to focus because I knew that knowledge could be useful at times.
At the age of ten,I got engaged to the son of the duke who guarded the north.
I did not object to the engagement, as I saw it as beneficial for me, my family, and our future.
At eleven years old, I experienced the first tragedy of my life.
My mother passed away due to illness.
Upon learning of her death, I locked myself in my room for three days, crying in my bed until my tears dried.
When I recovered from the shock, I chose not to crumble but to continue my path and live an honorable life for my mother, who watches over me from the heavens.
Thus, as soon as I turned fifteen, I joined the royal knights and was appointed as the Empress's guard.
One day, the Empress decided to go out and visit a residence in the capital.
I followed her in silence, performing my duty and protecting her as usual.
Standing before the unfamiliar house, I observed my surroundings until a boy, seemingly around ten years old, approached.
The moment I saw him, disgust and hatred surged within me.
His black hair was like the night sky, and his red eyes, resembling blood, made me instinctively despise him.
I wanted to stop him from entering the house where the Empress was, but my colleagues restrained me and explained that this was his home—that this boy was the Emperor's illegitimate son.
I watched as he ran inside in a panic, standing guard at the entrance.
A few minutes later, I sensed a terrifying aura behind me.
It was unlike anything I had ever felt before.
A pure intent to kill spread fear through my heart instantly.
I looked at my colleagues' pale, trembling faces and realized I was not the only one who sensed it.
We rushed inside to protect the Empress, but the sight before us nearly made me collapse in terror.
The boy I had despised, whom I had watched enter the house, now held the Empress's heart in his hands—extracted from her chest.
A sinister red aura surrounded him, his black hair stained with blood, gushing from the Empress's lifeless body like a fountain.
His blood-red eyes gleamed with a suffocating murderous intent that made even breathing difficult.
He turned his gaze toward us, his eyes shining with an insatiable thirst for blood.
Before I knew it, flames engulfed one of the knights standing at the front, his screams of agony echoing in the air.
The black-haired boy stepped forward, a wide, unsettling smile on his face that sent shivers down my spine.
Fire erupted from his body, consuming everything around us.
The entire house burned to the ground, and I ran with all my might to escape.
At that moment, I did not care about dignity or duty.
I felt only one thing—fear.
The person standing before me was someone I could never defeat, no matter how strong I became.
Fortunately, I had been at the rear of the knights, so I managed to escape through the door quickly.
But the moment I stepped outside, a force behind me sent me crashing to the ground.
A terrible pain seared the right side of my face, and I struggled to push the agony away with all my strength.
Then, everything went black—I lost consciousness from the pain.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself in an unfamiliar place. As my awareness returned, I realized I was in a hospital.
A wave of relief and reassurance washed over me—I had survived.
Shortly after, the doctors entered and began explaining my condition and what had happened.
That was the second disaster of my life.
All of my comrades had died that day.
The people I trained with, joked with, ate meals with.
In a single day, all of them were gone.
The person I was supposed to protect had been killed, marking me with a disgrace that would likely haunt me for the rest of my life.
And to make matters worse, the entire right side of my face had been severely scarred—I had lost the beauty I once prided myself on.
Of course, tragedies never come alone.
I was expelled from the royal knights and punished with a lifetime ban from ever rejoining.
When my fiancé learned of the incident and saw the scars on my face, he immediately broke off our engagement, abandoning me completely.
The support that House Alin received due to the engagement was cut off, and our family's circumstances began to deteriorate.
People started fleeing our city due to harsh conditions, leaving only those who truly loved this land and our house.
Since that day, nightmares plagued me, and I could no longer sleep properly.
I trained relentlessly, but to my dismay, I made no progress whatsoever.
I remained stuck at an advanced level of swordsmanship without ever improving.
I, who had once been considered one of the greatest prodigies in the world, destined for greatness since childhood, had fallen because of a single incident—because of the person responsible for the nightmares that kept me awake.
Four years into this hell, a royal battle was held.
And the one who emerged victorious was none other than the person who had caused my suffering and downfall.
Orlax Tirshtain.
The embodiment of the devil—the nightmare looming over my life, preventing me from moving forward.
Thus, I made my decision.
I would kill him.
Even if it meant my death, I did not care. What did I have left to worry about?
Every day of my life had been torment, and the scar on the right side of my face still ached as if it burned anew.
At his coronation, I prepared the dagger I had chosen for his execution and headed to the ceremony.
If I had thought about it for a moment, I would have realized how foolish my plan was—how utterly impossible its success would be.
That scoundrel had reached a level of power that everyone dreamed of attaining, and an assassination attempt was nearly impossible.
As his speech concluded—a speech I had not even listened to—I stepped forward and asked him to dance.
I was uncertain if he would accept my request.
But fortunately, he agreed, and we began to dance.
I stepped on his foot several times during the dance, pretending it was unintentional, though inside, I secretly relished the irritation on his face.