Spring Hills Hold No Autumn
The day she was to be crowned queen, Eva turned her back on the throne within her grasp and chose the cold and unforgiving stone of the city wall instead.
As the darkness swallowed her, a distant, sorrowful sigh reached her ears.
“Eva, last descendant of your line. Once, you traded your gift of divination to save Dylan’s life. Now, you sacrifice your very essence to enact the Retribution Curse.
“When this circle is complete, Dylan will be returned to his destined path. But you, the caster, will be cast adrift from the mortal world, walking alone for the rest of your days.
“Will you come to regret this?”
A surge of hot, coppery blood rose in Eva’s throat.
“My only regret is that I ever saved him.”
And that I ever gave him my heart.
Today was supposed to be her coronation. Yet before the crown could settle on her brow, the Imperial Guard had dragged her to the execution ground at the palace gates.
Her wedding robes trailed through bloodstains on the jade steps. Stumbling, she looked up.
One hundred and one heads hung from the ramparts.
In the center, hair frosted at the temples, was the mother who had smiled and brushed her hair just yesterday.
“Mother! Father!!”
A raw scream tore from Eva’s throat as she staggered toward the wall.
Lifting her head, she saw the familiar faces—Father, Mother, Uncle, Aunt, Cousin… her little niece, barely ten years old.
One hundred and one heads. One hundred and one faces frozen in terror.
They hung high above, blood still dripping from severed necks.
Drop by drop, it fell onto Eva’s upturned face.
“Who did this… WHO?!”
Her scream was ragged, hysterical.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dylan approaching. Like a drowning woman grasping at straws, she lunged toward him.
“Dylan! There are traitors in the court! My family—my entire clan—has been slaughtered! You have to catch those beasts, have them torn limb from limb—”
Her words died in her throat, choked off by the icy darkness in Dylan’s eyes.
“Dylan…”
He pried her fingers from his sleeve, one by one.
“Eva,” he said, his voice devoid of warmth. “I gave the order. Are you going to have me torn limb from limb as well?”
Eva refused to believe it. She shook her head violently. “No… you couldn’t. You would never…”
Years ago, when Dylan had fallen from favor and been exiled to the borderlands, assassins left him for dead outside Eva’s village.
She saved him.
Later, to help him achieve his ambitions, the long-secluded Eva Family emerged from hiding. They located a lost imperial treasury for him; they aided him in quelling the rebellion of the three lords.
Her grandfather, Walter, had even sacrificed years of his own life to alter the heavenly mandate in Dylan’s favor.
Eva could not—would not—believe the man she was to marry today was responsible for slaughtering her entire family.
But Dylan’s expression was cold and pitiless. The Imperial Guards surrounding them held spears, their blades still stained with unwashed blood.
Eva felt the world tilt beneath her feet.
“Why?” she whispered. “Why would you do this?”
A faint, chilling smile touched Dylan’s lips as he turned his gaze aside.
Only then did Eva notice the woman in plain white robes standing at the base of the steps.
Susan. Daughter of the former Imperial Astrologer.
Dylan drew Susan close, his arm around her shoulders, his voice dripping with a tenderness Eva had once known.
“Twenty years ago, when the former Astrologer, Wayne, resigned and returned to his homeland, his caravan passed through your village. Your people saw his wealth and murdered his entire family.
“If Susan had not escaped by sheer luck, I would never have known the true, venomous nature hidden beneath your family’s righteous facade.”
The words struck Eva like a physical blow.
Two decades ago, the Susan family had been slaughtered by mountain bandits. It was the Eva Family who took pity and buried the bodies. How could they now be branded the murderers?
Instinctively, Eva protested. “That’s not what happened! We were the ones who—”
“Enough.”
The handle of a whip pressed against Eva’s throat, cutting off her words. Ice filled Dylan’s eyes.
“Susan witnessed it herself. How could it be false? Moreover, she produced your family’s jade pendant as proof.
“Eva, at this point, your denials are nothing but excuses. Do you wish to join your family on the wall?”
A cold blade seemed to twist in her chest. Her lips trembled; the metallic taste of blood choked her voice.
She stared into Dylan’s cold face, forcing the words out. “Then kill me. Just kill me.”
Dylan’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them.
Susan clung to his arm. “Is Sister Eva trying a reverse tactic? You know perfectly well Dylan would never kill you. Are you trying to shame him?”
Disgust swiftly hardened Dylan’s features.
“Eva,” he said, his tone sharp. “Susan is merciful. She is willing to forgive your family’s crimes. If you renounce your identity as a member of the Ev
By the fourth day in the water dungeon, Eva had grown numb.
The wound over her heart, reopened daily for the ritual, had become a raw, jagged gash; with each passing day, her complexion grew paler. Every time the blade pierced her chest, another root of what had once been bone-deep love was torn out. Her obsession with Dylan faded alongside her vitality—now little more than a flickering, feeble ember.
At dusk, the cell door suddenly swung open.
Dylan had come. He barely recognized the woman before him as Eva. “What happened to her?”
A jailer hurried to explain. “The imperial physician insisted this is the only way to draw out the curse completely, so it doesn’t spread to Lady Susan.”
Dylan’s brow furrowed. After a moment of silence, he sighed. “My birthday is in two days. Take her out of here for now—confine her to the Cold Palace. She can be returned afterward.”
As the guards unlocked her chains, Eva collapsed face-first into the filthy water. She tried to push herself up but found she lacked even the strength to lift her hand.
Dylan bent down and seized her wrist. “Do you admit your guilt?”
Eva managed a strained smile. “Your Majesty, after all these years, you should know my nature.”
Pressing his lips together, Dylan suppressed his anger. “I knew you were arrogant and uncouth. But I never thought you would dare harm my child.”
Eva pushed her wet hair back, her gaze locking directly onto his. “Your Majesty must have forgotten. You once swore to heaven and earth that it would be just the two of us, forever. That you would only ever have children with *me*.”
A flicker of discomfort crossed Dylan’s face, quickly replaced by indignation. “That was before I knew what your family had done—their heinous crimes against the natural order! I’m cleansing their stain from this world, so their wretched souls might yet find peace!”
“Besides,” he continued, “I gave you a chance. Provide the forty-nine days of your heart’s blood, and I would have found a way to grant you a position.”
Even now, Dylan still believed Eva would want to stay by his side, to be used and humiliated by him. A frost of pure disdain settled over her features, her heart utterly drained, barren of all feeling.
Dylan seemed not to notice. “Spend the next few days in the Cold Palace preparing my birthday gift. Please me, and you can avoid returning to this hole.”
Eva’s cracked lips twisted. “Has Your Majesty not received enough gifts this year? The one hundred and one heads of my family… and my own—”
A violent cough cut her off, blood spraying from her mouth.
Dylan released her wrist abruptly, watching as she crashed back into the foul water. “Take her to the Cold Palace. Have a physician watch her. Don’t let her die.”
…
Eva slept through another day and night.
When she awoke, she found herself transferred from the water dungeon to the desolate, decaying Cold Palace. Mila was tending to her wound.
Eva gave a weak smile. “Save your strength. They’ll only reopen it tomorrow.”
Mila covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face. “Miss, you have to escape. I’ll create a diversion, draw the Imperial Guard away—”
*BANG!*
The door was kicked open with force. Susan strode in, a squad of guards at her back. “Sister, planning a trip?”
Mila’s hand jerked—the medicated cloth she was holding plopped into the bronze basin.
Pushing herself upright, Eva refused to show weakness before Susan. “To what do I owe the honor of Lady Susan’s visit?”
Susan lifted her chin haughtily. “Do you think I’d come to this wretched place if it weren’t important?”
Suddenly, she pulled something from her sleeve and hurled it to the floor. It landed with a dull thud—a small, hastily carved wooden figure, the kind placed in a coffin to accompany the dead.
