Hestia and the Pitiful Beasts - Chapter 1: Prologue

Though Emperor Leonis perished tragically on the battlefield, the empire emerged triumphant in its war against the Kingdom of Kashan, securing an overwhelming victory.

Those who survived could say with unwavering certainty that it was thanks to Crown Prince Hestia, the emperor’s only heir and beloved by all, who seamlessly filled the void left by his father and led the imperial army to perfection.

Hestia Mikena Tiflis.

There was not a single soul in the empire—or perhaps even across the entire continent—who did not know the name of the crown prince of the Holy Empire of Mikena.

Renowned for his bravery and intelligence, coupled with a coolheaded demeanor, Hestia already inspired awe throughout the land. But what truly set him apart, enough to overshadow even these exceptional traits, was his unparalleled beauty.

His glossy black hair, reminiscent of the sheen of ebony wood, and his golden eyes, said to mirror the splendor of Mikena’s patron deity, were breathtaking. Those who gazed into them for the first time often found themselves forgetting how to breathe.

Such a prince had unlocked the secrets of the holy scriptures and passed the imperial successor’s trials by the age of twelve. Now, having reverently overseen the late emperor’s funeral, he had just reached adulthood at the age of twenty. With only the grand coronation remaining, there seemed no room for dispute about his rightful place on the throne.

However, on the eve of the coronation, the crown prince appeared before the gathered ministers—and she was a woman.

The figure standing there in the diaphanous folds of a chiton dress was unmistakably female. Though her body was slender to the point of frailty, the subtle curves of her form were undeniable. With each step she took, the soft sway of her dress revealed glimpses of pale, bare feet and smooth thighs beneath.

A woman.

The crown prince, Hestia, was a woman.

“Y-Your Highness! What is this…!”

The moment she entered the council chamber, a cacophony of shocked outcries erupted from all sides.

“How can this be possible?”

“Have you deceived the entire nation all this time?”

Amid the ministers’ uproar, she walked unbothered, steadily making her way to her destination. The hem of her dress parted with every stride, her white thighs briefly flashing before disappearing again. Two tall men followed her silently, their imposing presence adding weight to the scene.

In the years to come, any discussion of Emperor Hestia’s reign would inevitably include these two men: Lafinan and Irei Lin, her loyal knights who had long served the crown prince without faltering.

At last, Hestia ascended the steps to the throne, standing before the seat of the emperor. Her lips parted, and she spoke.

“Tomorrow, this will finally be mine.”

Her voice, as sweet as if it had been borrowed from an angel, rang out. Her delicate hand brushed the armrest of the throne—a perfect image of elegance. There was no denying it: she remained the most beautiful being among mortals. And tomorrow, she will become the emperor of the Holy Empire of Mikena.

But one of the ministers dared to raise his voice.

“With all due respect, Your Highness! There has never been a female emperor in the history of the empire!”

As if on cue, others chimed in with similar protests. They cited historical precedent, some even going so far as to reference the barbarian kingdom of Venus across the strait, claiming that even such uncivilized lands had never allowed a woman to rule.

Hestia listened to the litany of objections without interrupting.

Then, suddenly, her cheeks puffed out, and a soft, stifled sound escaped her lips. Pfft! It was unmistakable—she had laughed.

The crown prince, famed for her stoic demeanor, had smiled. Even if it was a derisive smile, its rarity was enough to captivate all who saw it. The ministers fell silent, their eyes fixed on her.

Slowly, Hestia lifted her chin, her golden eyes sweeping coldly over the assembly.

“So, there has never been a female emperor in the history of the empire…” she murmured, as though musing to herself.

Before anyone could stop her, she turned and sat boldly upon the throne.

“Your Highness!” voices cried out in protest, but she ignored them. Crossing one leg over the other, the loose folds of her dress parted, baring her pale thighs. Someone in the crowd exclaimed in shock and turned away, scandalized.

Hestia seemed to have anticipated such a reaction—or perhaps she had been waiting for it. Slowly, she leaned forward, her piercing gaze sweeping over the ministers below.

“You are mistaken,” she said, her voice calm yet commanding. “I am not a female emperor.”

The room fell into a stunned silence, as though cold water had been poured over the assembly.

She spoke again, her tone unyielding.

“I am the emperor. So, I ask you: do you dare claim that because I am a woman, I cannot rule?”

Before ascending to the throne, she already calls herself Emperor.

If this had been before Emperor Leonis’s death, such audacity would have led to swift punishment. But in the current situation, no courtier bold enough to raise such a formal objection could have survived long.

“That… that’s…”

The ministers who had passionately argued just moments ago began stammering one by one. Hestia, for the first time, wiped the mocking smile off her face and replaced it with a generous grin.

“Anyone who says otherwise right now shall have their head personally severed by me. But if anyone dares to utter such nonsense after leaving this chamber, I’ll hang that traitor and their entire family, alive, on the city walls and convict them of treason.”

Her clear, ringing voice deliberately emphasized each word.

“I will unearth all your ancestors’ graves, scatter their bones into the barbarian sea of Venous you despise so much, and have your names forever recorded as a disgrace in history. Surely, you all know I don’t jest.”

It wasn’t a bluff. She was already extending as much mercy as she could. Truth be told, she didn’t need to threaten anyone at all.

Whether Hestia was a woman, a man, or not even human, it no longer mattered. She was now the sole heir to the throne of Mikena.

The Empire’s only legitimate child of imperial blood. A perfect pureblood, without a single drop of impurity.

Crown Princess Hestia, who had long ago forced the temple to bow at her feet, was unshaken even before the million-strong army of a rival nation, and had made her power known across the continent.

Adored by the entire populace, the cheers for the new Emperor had already been cemented on the day she returned victorious from the war against the Kingdom of Kashan. How could anyone forget the sight of thousands of people bowing their heads to the ground, not daring to look directly at the horse she rode?

Everyone believed without a shred of doubt that Hestia would be the most perfect Emperor in the Empire’s history—until today when she entered the council chamber with barely a stitch of proper clothing on her body.

“Your Majesty.”

That was when it happened. A low honorific echoed throughout the chamber.

Moments later, the two knights stationed at the foot of the stairs turned to face Hestia, knelt before her, and declared their loyalty.

“I swear fealty to Your Imperial Majesty.”

It was the platinum-haired man with a cold expression who spoke first. The red-haired man across from him, glancing around momentarily, soon repeated the same words.

“…I swear fealty.”

The platinum-haired knight’s name was Lapinan, the eldest son of the powerful Kyle family and captain of the Crown Princess’s guard.

The other knight, called Erei Lyn, was easily identifiable as a foreigner by his deep crimson hair, neither black nor red like those of the Empire’s people. Though little was known about him, rumors whispered that Hestia had personally recruited him as a mercenary.

With these two knights beginning to revere her as Emperor, the ministers had no choice but to either object or submit. But having two options didn’t mean the group would be divided.

One by one, they knelt and pledged their allegiance.

“I swear fealty.”

“To Your Imperial Majesty!”

“To Her Majesty…”

“We swear fealty.”

“To Your Imperial Majesty, we swear fealty!”

They prostrated themselves on the floor in unison.

For some time now, Hestia had been silently watching them with an emotionless expression. Only after a long pause did she part her tightly shut lips.

“You need not worry about anything.”

But it didn’t sound like she was speaking to the ministers. Perhaps, it seemed more like she was vowing to herself.

“I shall never disappoint the Empire.”

It was as if she firmly believed that was her sole reason for existence.