Chapter 44: Illusion

My condition worsened with each passing day.

“…Cough.”

Now, whenever I coughed, it was almost expected that blood would follow.

And the color of my hair reflected in the mirror was far paler than it had been when it first started changing.

“…It’s pretty.”

But as always,

It didn’t really stir anything inside me.

Honestly, I didn’t care why my hair was changing color.

There had to be a reason.

It’s not just anything—it had to be a reason why it was my hair, of all things, changing color.

“Does it matter?”

There was no point in finding out.

The only thought that crossed my mind was that the white strands looked kind of nice.

White looks better than dull gray.

It gives you a brighter appearance.

Looking bright means looking lively.

And people usually say being lively is what makes someone pretty.

Isn’t that how most people think?

If not, whatever.

“My head hurts.”

The pain throbbed constantly.

What used to be occasional headaches had now become an uninvited companion that appeared at all times.

Some might ask, why not just take painkillers?

Well.

It’s not like I’m too dumb to know what those are.

I’d already tried everything.

From basic painkillers to prescription meds tailored to specific symptoms.

I’d taken so many pills over time, I could’ve been called a walking pharmacy.

And out of all those, only one ever actually helped.

“…I’m sleepy.”

Sleeping pills.

Only the strong ones that kicked in instantly could release me from the pain for a little while.

Didn’t they say sleep was the greatest blessing granted to humans by the gods?

…Or wait, was that forgetting?

Well, whatever.

Either way, both are clearly important.

With that half-hearted logic, I laid back down on the bed I’d just gotten out of.

Might as well sleep again.

They say sleep is the best investment anyway.

…Wait, why did I even wake up?

I feel like it was something important that woke me up.

Hmm. What was it?

“…No idea.”

Ugh, whatever.

If it was really important, I would’ve remembered it.

There’s even a saying about that.

If you can’t remember something, it probably wasn’t that important to begin with.

So I guess what I forgot wasn’t all that serious either.

Mhm.

Definitely not.

---

(TL note: Perspective shifts to Christina)

Since that shocking day—

“…I need to gather evidence.”

Christina had been doing everything she could to expose the real Han-sia hiding behind the “saint” image.

From tailing her without getting caught to even tagging along for charity work she normally wouldn’t be caught dead doing, all just to follow Han-sia’s schedule.

“Why didn’t I bring a recorder that day…?”

Not having any record of what she saw was her greatest regret.

It was right after hearing Seo-yeon’s ramblings, so her own mental state hadn’t been great either—she’d just rushed out thoughtlessly.

If only she’d brought something to record that scene, she wouldn’t be struggling like this now.

Regret washed over her again and again like waves crashing ashore.

“…Still, I have to do it.”

Even so, Christina didn’t give up.

Because she’d made a decision.

She had decided to help Seo-yeon.

She was determined to do whatever she could to save the person she had destroyed.

As a princess of the empire, as one of Seo-yeon’s tormentors, and as a friend who would never be acknowledged by the person herself.

It’s one thing to never try.

But Christina wasn’t someone who gave up once she set her mind on something.

“Seo-yeon? Is Seo-yeon still not here?”

“….”

“Hmm. She usually shows up—even if she’s late. I’ll mark her absent for now.”

Anyway, Seo-yeon was nowhere to be seen in class today.

As the teacher at the front said, Seo-yeon might’ve been tardy before, but she’d never actually skipped class.

And yet, for some reason, even with class almost over, not a single strand of her white hair was in sight.

“….”

A sense of unease began to rise in her chest.

She’d been so focused on shadowing Han-sia lately that she hadn’t paid attention to Seo-yeon.

Normally, she would’ve stuck to Seo-yeon regardless of how annoyed she looked—eating lunch together, going to the library, whatever.

But thanks to Han-sia’s packed schedule, she hadn’t even had time for that.

“Soo-ho?”

“…What is it, Tina?”

“Have you seen Seo-yeon…?”

“…So you don’t know either. I was going to ask you the same thing.”

She tried asking Kim Soo-ho, just in case—but he didn’t know either.

Not that she expected much.

Given the way things were between them lately, there was no way they were keeping tabs on each other.

It was the complete opposite of how things used to be when they first entered the academy.

Back then, Seo-yeon had clung to Soo-ho, and Soo-ho had found her annoying.

Now it was Soo-ho who wanted to reconnect, and Seo-yeon who had no feelings for him at all.

It was kind of funny, honestly.

Maybe this is what people meant by “you reap what you sow.”

And Christina was no exception.

She had once seen Seo-yeon as nothing but an enemy.

And now, even though Seo-yeon didn’t want her help, she was trying to offer it anyway.

Also kind of funny, in a messed-up way.

If people found out about this, they’d probably mock her.

‘You’re a princess, and Seo-yeon’s nothing.’

‘You’re supposed to be a role model for the empire, but Seo-yeon is literally nothing.’

That’s probably what they’d say.

And they wouldn’t be wrong.

She already knew that.

She knew it would be better—for everyone—if she just gave up.

If she gave up for Seo-yeon, who just wanted to die in peace, and for the people who expected her to act like a model member of the royal family.

But she couldn’t accept it.

She just couldn’t accept that someone like Seo-yeon—who’d always been on the losing end—had to live and die like this.

She couldn’t accept that a single person’s life was being utterly destroyed by a few powerful people.

‘…Even if I’m one of those powerful people.’

She knew.

Christina knew all too well.

If she hadn’t messed with Seo-yeon from the start, things would’ve turned out very differently.

Maybe Seo-yeon would’ve lived as just another normal student.

She might’ve drifted apart from her childhood friend, but she’d have had a regular academy life.

A life Christina herself couldn’t even imagine—peaceful, ordinary, uneventful.

But she ruined it.

Because she bullied Seo-yeon, that future never came.

Of course, that might not be entirely accurate.

Even if she hadn’t done anything, Han-sia might’ve ruined her life anyway.

But in the end, the facts remained.

Christina was the one responsible for the Seo-yeon of today.

What-ifs didn’t matter.

Only the truth—that she had ruined someone’s life—crushed her with guilt.

Not maybe.

Definitely.

That guilt alone weighed heavy on her shoulders.

Ding–

“That’s it for today’s class. Good work, everyone.”

The final class ended just like any other.

And as soon as it did, Christina stood up.

Then, the student sitting next to her spoke up.

“Huh? Does Your Highness have something urgent?”

“…Ah, yes. I have an appointment today.”

“That’s a shame. I thought you’d be joining us for volunteer work again.”

Now that she looked closely, the girl seemed familiar—probably someone she’d met while following the “saint” around.

“Sorry. I’ll definitely come next time.”

“No worries! Honestly, I was just surprised that Your Highness joined in at all!”

“…Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, volunteering doesn’t really fit the image of a princess, right?”

“….”

Another weight of guilt pressed down on her shoulders.

She was only doing this to investigate Han-sia.

And yet, to regular people, it made her look like a kind and noble royal.

She wasn’t a good person.

She was someone who ruined another person’s life.

It was all a lie.

She was not a good person.

That’s what Christina had to tell herself.

“I hope we can work together next time too!”

“…Yes. See you next time.”

But the girl’s smile was so bright,

Christina couldn’t bring herself to say any of that.

All she could do was smile awkwardly and make vague promises.

---

And so, leaving her completely false self behind—

“…This was Seo-yeon’s room, right?”

Christina arrived at the door to Seo-yeon’s dorm.

Of course, she came to check on Seo-yeon.

Seo-yeon never missed class, so there had to be a reason for today’s absence.

Knock knock

She tapped on the door, but no voice answered.

“Is she asleep?”

There were two possibilities.

She was either lost in dreamland… or she’d gone out.

But the second option seemed unlikely.

From what Christina knew, Seo-yeon wasn’t someone who liked going out.

Well, unless Han-sia had dragged her out again like last time.

“…But Han-sia was in class.”

She’d seen Han-sia chatting with others in the adjacent classroom, so that possibility was ruled out easily.

Thinking that, still unsure what to do, she absentmindedly turned the doorknob.

Click

“…It’s not locked?”

For a school known for its top security, Starfrost Academy, the door opened surprisingly easily.

As if Seo-yeon hadn’t even bothered to close it properly.

“…No way.”

Fear creeping in, Christina immediately opened the door and stepped inside.

And there, she found Seo-yeon lying in bed, as if peacefully asleep.

“…Seo-yeon?”

“…”

“Seo-yeon!”

In a room scattered with pill bottles and loose caps—

Seo-yeon was collapsed on the bed.

TL Note: Christina finding Seo-yeon in this state is a major turning point in the emotional narrative. The visual of the scattered medication suggests potential overdose or despair, which the story builds up to slowly.