Chapter 2 …
Of all things, I ended up possessing a character in a romance-fantasy novel… but why did it have to be a doomed side character in a 19+ tragedy?
This isn’t just about dying young. The novel never even mentioned Zeusia having a daughter!
As I screamed inwardly, a buried memory of the original text surfaced deep in my neurons.
“Her Majesty Zeusia once experienced pregnancy, but the child died at birth… and everyone involved with the delivery was executed for their crime.”
It was the only part of the novel where I’d felt even a shred of pity for Zeusia. But now I knew—that line was a lie.
Zeusia’s child wasn’t miscarried. The mother killed it with her own hands!
I didn’t have the leisure to wonder why she did it.
Because that child… is me!
Damn it. Possessed—or rather, born—barely ten minutes ago, and I was already about to die.
Wait, wait! Pretty lady! No, Mom. Mother!
But I was a newborn baby who couldn’t even babble, let alone stop the Empress.
Thankfully, my long experience as a romance-fantasy reader kicked in, and I acted on instinct.
“Kyaha!”
I smiled.
It’s a law of childcare novels: the cold father always melts at the heroine’s innocent smile.
Otherwise known as the “You’re the first baby to ever smile at me” development.
Sure, in my case, the cold parent wasn’t the father but the mother, and The Mad Emperor’s Red Bedchamber wasn’t a childcare novel, and I wasn’t the heroine. But still… this was a romance-fantasy, and I was a baby. It had to work.
Please, just let me live…!
The swaddle had loosened when she tossed me, leaving my arms free. Awkwardly, I stretched them toward Zeusia.
And smiled again, wide and bright.
I’ll be filial! Or if you don’t want to see me, I’ll live quietly out of sight. Just don’t kill me!
For the first time, Zeusia’s icy gaze flickered with something new. The blade in her hand stopped midair.
It worked! So babies do have to smile in these things!
But my relief didn’t last long.
“How laughable.”
…Guess not.
Her cold voice was void of warmth. Tears almost spilled from my eyes, but instinct screamed at me:
If you cry here, you’ll really die.
“The baby seems to… to recognize her mother, Your Majesty. Isn’t that remarkable?”
A maid called Senia crawled forward and bowed at her feet.
“Please, Your Majesty, spare this lovely child!”
Klein, the one who had comforted me earlier, also prostrated herself.
“Your Majesty bore this child for ten months. Only hours ago, you were still connected by life itself!”
Zeusia stared at my smiling face, then suddenly spoke.
“Pathetic.”
In this world, “pathetic” should translate to “interesting,” which equals “favorability +1.” That was the rule.
Did I succeed?
“This child feels no killing intent. To think my offspring would be more senseless than a stray dog begging scraps.”
…Guess not.
Zeusia leaned close, so close our noses almost touched. Her breath brushed my skin, laced with her intoxicating scent.
Wow. No wonder she’s described as a femme fatale. Even a newborn’s heart skips from this.
Despite my blurry vision, her beauty struck me—her eyes especially, like they could swallow me whole.
“Annoying eyes,” she muttered.
“…?”
“And that weak face disgusts me.”
Mother, all babies are weak, you know.
But common sense didn’t apply to the Mad Emperor.
“Unfortunately, I see no reason to let this thing live.”
Her eyes sharpened again. The maids burst into tears.
“Tell them: ‘The infant died within the hour of birth.’”
“Your Majesty!”
“Unless you wish to join the dead, hurry.”
No!
If smiling didn’t work… then maybe if a newborn managed to sit up within an hour of birth, she might spare me.
I flailed, trying to push myself up.
Isn’t there some transmigrator bonus? God, help me stand!
But no miracle came. Instead, my tiny hand flailed—
—and slapped the Empress across the cheek.
Slap!
It made a loud sound, far too sharp for such a tiny hand.
The maids froze in horror. Clearly, I’d just chosen the fastest route to hell.
Well… there goes my life.
God was dead. And now so was I.
For the first time, Zeusia’s eyes flew wide open. I shut mine, spreading my arms like a martyr.
If I get another life, don’t make me a diamond spoon… just a diamond itself. Easier that way.
I waited. But no pain came. Curious, I cracked an eye—
“Hahaha!”
A sudden burst of laughter shocked me fully awake.
Zeusia was laughing. Loudly. Clutching the cradle, laughing like mad—and beautiful in her madness.
Then she stopped, wiped her mouth, and murmured,
“How bold. No one has ever dared slap me before.”
“Your Majesty, the baby didn’t mean—she was just moving her arm—”
“Amusing.”
Her crooked smile gleamed with the delight of madness.
Before I could react, she grabbed my little hand and pressed it to her neck.
“Fine, I’ll let you live. But next time, aim for here.”
My tiny hand touched her throat. My smile vanished; I just blinked.
Zeusia bared her teeth in a twisted grin.
“Understand?”
She dropped my hand and turned away.
“Klein, Senia. She’s yours now.”
“An honor, Your Majesty!”
“Do as you like. Just don’t let this thing cross my path until adulthood. That’s all.”
The maids bowed silently. Zeusia swept away, her black hair vanishing like a shadow.
Only then, seeing the maids weep in relief, did I believe I’d escaped death.
Oops… I think I wet myself.
Exhausted from my first encounter with my terrifying mother, I drifted into sleep.
Zeusia Creta la Kischtvan.
The villain of The Mad Emperor’s Red Bedchamber, master of the “red bedchamber” and the very “mad emperor” herself.
She was the perfect opposite of the innocent, ever-smiling heroine, Sinope Crimson.
Zeusia took lovers regardless of status, filling the palace annex with men until it earned the nickname Red Bedchamber.
And yet… she never once took an empress. Even when rebels—led by Sinope and the male leads—finally beheaded her, her throne remained empty beside her.
Speculation had run wild among readers:
“Maybe she secretly loved one of the male leads?”
“If so, she would’ve forced a marriage. Maybe she once had a true love in the past?”
I too had hoped she had a hidden backstory, some humanizing history.
But then—
“Child… my only regret is meeting you too late.”
Those were her final words to a rebel before dying.
Of course, the comment section exploded.
“She’s insane to the end.”
“She’s hitting on someone while dying?”
“She’s worse than Zeus.”
“What a psycho queen.”
There was no saving her character.
And yet, that made her unforgettable—a villain of pure evil, cruel and captivating.
As a character, I loved Zeusia.
But…
I never wanted to be her daughter.
Now, instead of the luxurious chamber I’d first opened my eyes in, I stared up at the shabby ceiling of Parnaso Castle, an abandoned annex at the far edge of the palace.
All because of her decree:
“Do not let this thing cross my path until adulthood.”
Well, at least I survived. But what now?
I thought I’d been born with a diamond spoon. Turns out it was just a knife.
Forget living it up as a princess. This is The Mad Emperor’s Red Bedchamber. The closer I am to her, the shorter my life will be.
For now, though, I couldn’t do anything. I was barely a day old.
I’ll stay quiet until I can fend for myself. Then I’ll run. I know every plot point in this story—I’ll manage somehow.
Sighing, I turned my head toward the window. It felt like I’d burned 500 calories just doing that.
I wished I’d possessed someone older, but it was too late.
“I’ll spare you—so next time, aim here.”
Sorry, Mother. I can’t even kill an ant.
Shuddering at the memory, I prayed to the faint red-tinged full moon.
Please, just let me survive.
Sleep crept over me suddenly, as befit a newborn. But then my small body was lifted.
Is it Klein?
But the chest I was pressed against was much warmer, much firmer.
Firm?
Blinking open, I froze.
It was a man.
A man I’d never seen before, smiling faintly as he held me.
I should have cried to wake Klein and Senia, but no sound came out.
And maybe… I didn’t want it to.
Holy—what is that face?!
His hair shimmered pink like a pink diamond, his eyes a sky-blue that stole my breath.
He brushed my tiny brow gently, then smiled radiantly, as if painted.
“Sorry for waking you, little one.”
