Chapter 72
“Amelia Eskliff said she wanted to kill the Emperor?”
Duke Russell asked Aaron with a look of surprise. Aaron nodded.
“She seemed to have been moved by the Emperor saving her child, fell in love with him alone, and when she was rejected, she bore a grudge.”
The Duke let out a dry laugh. Soon after, he clicked his tongue, muttering that this was why emotional women could not be relied upon.
“She said she would make Your Excellency the Emperor.”
The Duke stroked his beard with a thoughtful hum.
“Of course, I would like that as well. If possible, even right this moment.”
The foolish Amelia must have thought she could kill Ivan and crown him Emperor. But he simply had no desire to take such reckless risks—he intended to move only when the timing was right.
He was not a direct member of the imperial line. Even among the collateral branches there was plenty of friction; for someone who wasn’t royal at all to break through everything and sit upon the throne, he needed both moral and reasonable justification.
That was why what he most wished for was abdication. Ian would become crown prince, Ivan would die, and once Ian became Emperor, he would abdicate in favor of him.
“But there’s no chance of that, is there? Amelia Eskliff’s son hasn’t died, and His Majesty has even declared he’ll accept that boy as crown prince.”
The Duke clicked his tongue again, dismissing Amelia’s words as unrealistic. His tone suggested she had no way of pulling off anything at all—and Aaron, too, thought the Duke was right.
“She was so foolish she didn’t even know about the long-standing friction between the temple and the throne, and yet she confessed her feelings to the Emperor only to be rejected. What could she possibly achieve?”
Aaron also suspected Amelia wasn’t particularly bright. But that wasn’t to say she was born stupid. Amelia had grown up confined within the temple walls, taught only what they permitted. Everything outside of that she was clumsy with. She wasn’t incapable of learning—just woefully inexperienced. And so she clung desperately to her blindfolds and earplugs.
“If she dared to speak of the imperial throne, perhaps she’s discovered something.”
“Enough. Whatever she’s found out, nothing could be worth the suspicion she’ll draw if she stirs up trouble. Just warn her not to do anything foolish.”
The Duke understood what Aaron was hinting at, but one should never expect an ordinary person to suddenly turn into a genius. And so he rejected Aaron’s persuasion with cold words.
“And soon we’ll be stopping by the nameless lands. Keep that in mind.”
“…Understood.”
Aaron gave up with a reluctant look.
But Amelia’s image from earlier in the day lingered vividly in his mind. Her pale face. Her hands clenched tight, trembling. Her eyes shut as if his touch repulsed her. Yet her body had not run away—standing its ground as if to display her resolve, brimming with vengeance toward the Emperor.
It drove him half-mad. As Amelia herself had guessed, the feelings she bore for the Emperor were not so different from those he bore for her. She cloaked them in revenge and hatred, but at their root they were the same—love.
He wanted to kill the Emperor. He wanted to erase from the world the man Amelia loved, to slaughter everything. If his love could not be answered, then at the very least he wanted to be the only one laying bare his emotions before her.
Amelia could not sleep. She reached out to the empty space beside her and blinked. Tonight she had even entrusted Ian to Lady Howard, and so the bed felt especially lonely and wide.
“……”
It was a solitude she had to grow accustomed to. In the end, she would die alone. Ian would manage a decent life in Ivan’s shadow. That alone should have been enough to comfort her.
And yet, the thought of Ian having a new mother left a tight, suffocating ache in her chest. She was the one who had borne him, but even that role seemed destined to be taken away. To never be able to live as herself, to never be truthful to anyone—that was tragedy.
Curling into herself, Amelia closed her eyes, folding her body as though she were an unborn child seeking solace in its own warmth.
Click.
The faint sound of the door made her eyes snap open. The creak of footsteps followed, drawing her attention.
“Are you asleep?”
It was Ivan’s voice. Amelia opened her eyes in answer but did not speak. The bed dipped as he sat at its edge.
“Amelia Eskliff.”
She blinked slowly. Even in the dark, Ivan was not a man who would miss such details—he must have known she wasn’t sleeping.
Yet Amelia stubbornly stayed where she was. She was in no mood to be agreeable. She didn’t care to spare his temper.
“Did you sleep with him?”
Not knowing what he meant, she gave no reply. Thinking her silence was deliberate, Ivan braced one arm beside her head. Amelia stared at the hard, unyielding arm like a wooden beam.
“I asked if you slept with Aaron Skipper.”
She could feel the intensity of his gaze burning into the side of her face. It was as though his eyes might bore right through her skull, and she turned away.
“You’ve been drinking.”
Every breath he exhaled carried the sharp smell of strong liquor—one she vaguely remembered tasting once before, bitter and unbearable.
“Answer me first. Did you sleep with Aaron Skipper?”
Again he pressed her.
“Why does it matter so much to you?”
“……”
“Whether I spent the night with Aaron Skipper or coupled with one of your palace guards in the shadows of the garden—what concern is that of Yours?”
Her sharp retort burst out before she could stop it. Everything about Ivan’s behavior irked her. Without Ian nearby and with Ivan drunk, she grew bolder.
“If I did sleep with Aaron, wouldn’t that actually be to your advantage?”
She met his eyes squarely as she spoke.
“Just as you ordered, I’m earning their trust. I’m playing the part of a woman desperate to kill you.”
“……”
“You should be satisfied.”
She was doing exactly what he had demanded—what more could he want?
“Sharing a body? A kiss? What’s so hard about that?”
Her lips twisted in a mocking smile as she reached for his face. Her fingers brushed the firm line of his jaw.
“I could do it with you right now.”
“Go on, then.”
Ivan’s voice was low, as though certain she couldn’t. Her insides knotted with fury. Was she really that easy to handle, used by everyone her whole life?
Driven by the bitterness, she seized the back of his neck and dragged him down to her.
“……”
Like their very first kiss, both kept their eyes open, lips barely pressed together, gazes locked. Then—grit—the sound of teeth grinding broke the stillness. It came from Ivan.
“Open your mouth.”
“Don’t—!”
This time his tone was forceful. Before she could resist, he pried her lips apart and forced his way in.
“No—mmph…!”
Her protests were swallowed by his mouth. She clawed at his shoulder, pinching and twisting his flesh, thrashing like someone desperate to break free. In the end she even pounded her fists against him.
But Ivan did not relent. He sought to conquer every corner of her mouth. When his hand finally groped her breast, Amelia snapped—biting down hard on his tongue.
“You said you could, didn’t you?”
The taste of blood filled her mouth, and only then did he draw back, his rough assault ceasing. His calm question made her wipe his blood from her lips with the back of her hand.
“What’s the problem?”
“……”
“You’ll get married, you’ll take your child, and I’ll even die so as not to stand in your way.”
Her words spat like venom, her chest heaving with ragged breaths.
“If you’re drunk, just go sleep it off.”
“……”
“You don’t lose a single thing, so why are you so full of complaints against me?”
She hated him. The very sight of the man drove her mad. Every bit of him, from head to toe, filled her with loathing—but the reason for it could not be distilled into a single word.
If she looked too deeply into that reason, she feared she would find it was not mere hatred after all.
