Rebels

So that was what it was, after all.

A conclusion she had half-expected—annoyingly familiar, like a shadow that had been trailing behind her all along.

Anna leaned back slightly as she continued reading, her fingers tightening just a little around the paper.

The man who had chased her down when she'd been hiding with Louis at that mansion…

She remembered the look in his eyes, the anger simmering beneath every word he spat—anger aimed not just at her, but at everything she represented.

Privilege. Authority. Nobility.

Of course.

It wasn't personal.

It was ideological.

The ones who had tried to kidnap her weren't just criminals.

They were rebels—people who wanted revolution, people who believed the system was broken and that tearing it down was the only way to fix it.

Now the pieces of the puzzle were finally taking shape.

She flipped to the next page, eyes scanning the neat text.

Name: Cain. Age: 30.

A once-promising magician, a former Academy student.

Talented, diligent… the kind of person who should have had a stable future.

But according to the report, bitterness had festered in him after graduation—specifically because he hadn't been accepted into the Magic Tower.

Anna frowned.

That doesn't make sense.

Of all the institutions in the Empire, the Magic Tower was one of the few places where lineage meant nothing.

Whether you were noble or commoner, rich or penniless, your acceptance depended on one thing alone:

Ability.

She had seen it herself countless times.

The Tower didn't care who your parents were.

If your magic was strong enough, they opened their doors.

So… why would someone claim they were rejected because they were a commoner?

"Was there a misunderstanding?" she murmured, tapping the papers lightly against the table.

Or—

Her eyes narrowed.

"—was it nothing more than arrogance twisting reality into something convenient?"

Or perhaps...

She couldn't shake the thought—not completely.

The possibility of discrimination festering within the Magic Tower…

It wasn't something she could ignore. Not with her position. Not with her responsibilities.

If such a problem truly existed, then as the Imperial Princess, she had the obligation—and the authority—to confirm it herself.

With that in mind, she continued reading through the document in her hands.

Most of the remaining information was expected.

Nothing shocking.

A rebel group formed a few years ago.

Commoners with delusions of revolution.

They called themselves the Red Wolves, and their goal was to topple the current social order.

Unpleasant, but predictable.

Still… this was too simple.

Anna narrowed her eyes.

Because there was one thing that didn't make sense—one glaring inconsistency that refused to be brushed aside.

Her carriage.

The route she was taking.

The time.

The escort schedule.

That information wasn't just confidential—it was sealed.

Restricted to a handful of people, most of whom swore loyalty directly to the Imperial Family.

So how did a ragtag rebel group obtain it?

'This isn't just the Red Wolves acting on their own.'

Someone had fed them information.

Someone who knew her movements.

Someone with enough power—or access—to breach Imperial security.

Someone who wanted her gone.

And if that person was bold enough to interfere once, they would do it again.

A beast that bares its fangs at her…

She would crush it.

That was how she had survived this long in the Imperial family—by destroying any threat before it had the chance to grow.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a memory—Louis's expression earlier.

Specifically, the wound on the back of his hand.

Anna lowered the document slightly.

"Oh, right. You said Louis had no injuries, correct? Then what about that wound on the back of his hand?"

"When I checked at the time, there was no wound—"

"Did I ask for excuses?"

"…My apologies."

Andel's voice faltered, falling into silence at the icy edge in her tone.

The room grew still again, but this time the air felt heavier—like the calm before a blade is drawn.

Louis had helped her.

And no matter how she tried to frame it logically or politically, Anna couldn't shake the discomfort lingering in her chest.

It wasn't a severe injury—Louis himself had said so with that careless tone of his—but the moment her eyes had caught the wound on the back of his hand, a faint unease began tugging at her.

From her position, as someone who owed him a debt, she couldn't ignore it.

Even more than that…

Louis had gone to the trouble of hiding his face, clearly hoping she wouldn't realize who he was.

But Anna had recognized him instantly. She always did.

And yet she'd acted as though she hadn't noticed—respecting the boundary he was trying to place between them.

Still…

"Follow him for the time being," Anna said quietly, her voice leaving no room for argument. "The rebels might target him. Andel, I want you personally to protect him."

"Understood."

"You may go."

Louis was already involved with her.

That alone was enough to paint a target on him for anyone looking to make trouble.

And Anna wasn't going to sit by and let that happen.

As soon as she finished speaking, the man who'd been standing behind her faded into the shadows—gone so completely that it was as if he had never existed in the first place.

Only after confirming his disappearance did Anna exhale and lower her gaze to the desk.

A mountain of documents waited for her.

Imperial matters.

Academy matters.

Endless, suffocating obligations stacked neatly in paper form.

It was enough to give anyone a headache.

She hesitated, her hand hovering over the first page.

Piyuu…

A soft, sleepy sound came from beside her.

Feiru, who had evidently just woken up, nudged her hand with its tiny face, rubbing against her as if trying to lift her spirits.

Anna's expression softened for a brief moment—so brief that most people wouldn't have noticed.

"…Alright. I'll get back to work."

She reached for her pen again, gathering her resolve.

The world wasn't going to wait for her feelings to settle.

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