150. The End of Blind Love
A few days passed like that.
Living half out of my wits, I barely noticed how time slipped by.
During that time, there was not a single word from Perwyn.
It was the outcome I had expected, and yet—ever since letting him go, not once had my heart felt at ease.
I longed for a conversation. Whether it was comfort or even an excuse, anything would have sufficed.
Since that day, I had sent him several letters.
I couldn’t reveal the truth before because circumstances were too complicated. I never meant to deceive you…
Even at such a moment, I couldn’t bring myself to be completely honest. Instead, I filled my letters with cowardly self-justifications.
“Has His Highness replied yet?”
When I asked, the maids, Lia and Kelly, lowered their heads gloomily.
“No, Lady.”
“If any letter arrives from the Imperial Palace, we’ll let you know right away.”
“All right. Thank you.”
The human heart truly is strange.
I had been so determined to distance myself from Perwyn, yet once he was truly gone, anxiety and unease consumed me instead.
When the maids left, silence weighed down the room.
A sigh escaped my lips.
There was no longer the Administrator who always came to see me, nor Cayenne, who used to follow me around like a little chick.
All those changes felt suffocatingly unfamiliar.
The absence of familiar faces made even the autumn leaves falling outside the window feel unbearably lonely…
[An anonymous subscriber sternly tells you to stop wallowing.]
‘Ah, right. That guy’s still here.’
Before I could sink into sentimentality, that sharp interjection jolted me back to my senses.
Ding!
The message window chimed again.
[The anonymous subscriber looks toward the door.]
The door? Why—?
Just then, an urgent knock rattled the room.
“My lady, a letter has just arrived from the Imperial Palace!”
When I opened the door, the maids, eyes shining with excitement, announced:
“But the sender isn’t His Highness the Crown Prince—it’s Her Majesty the Empress!”
“What?”
I suppose there was something I needed to discuss with the Empress as well.
There were things I wanted to ask her, and surely things she was curious about too.
Yet the Empress’s letter was surprisingly short, almost insincere.
A brief greeting, followed by an invitation to join her for tea at the Empress’s Palace.
‘That’s it?’
At first, I felt a hollow disappointment. But soon I realized—even sending such a letter must have been no small feat for her.
‘She must be under constant surveillance.’
Ever since that day, the Emperor must have been watching her closely.
A letter could easily be intercepted, so speaking in person would be far safer.
I replied that I would come at whatever time Her Majesty desired.
And so, on the promised day with the Empress—
While I waited anxiously in the reception room, she entered with her attendants, smiling gently.
“You arrived early, Lady.”
“I greet Your Majesty the Empress.”
“Thank you for accepting my invitation.”
Soon, fragrant tea and sweet confections were served upon the table.
The Empress looked a little weary, but her mood seemed bright.
‘That necklace…’
She was once again wearing the one I had given her.
“It honors me greatly that Your Majesty treasures my humble gift.”
“Ah, you mean this?”
The Empress smiled faintly.
“Since I began wearing it, my health has improved. Perhaps it’s only coincidence, but to me it feels like a charm of good fortune.”
‘Her health improved because of the necklace?’
Impossible.
There was no healing property in that necklace—it was merely a protective trinket. And yet…
‘Wait.’
A thought suddenly struck me.
What if the Empress was never truly ill to begin with?
While I was lost in thought, she steered the conversation.
“Have you been well? I worried about you often.”
“I have managed, Your Majesty. And you—”
I stopped myself. How could she possibly have been “well,” standing at the eye of the storm?
“I have been well enough.”
Yet the Empress answered with a serene smile.
She went on making idle, harmless small talk. Nothing of substance, nothing that cornered me with difficult questions.
I couldn’t decide whether to be grateful for the peace, or frustrated by the lack of real discussion.
At last, she set down her teacup softly and said:
“You seem to have many questions in your eyes. Feel free to ask.”
The maids discreetly withdrew. The atmosphere of the reception room shifted at once.
Indeed, I had many questions.
How much did the Empress truly know? What were her intentions for Cayenne’s future?
But above all, I wanted to know her heart.
“Your Majesty… why did you protect me?”
When I was branded with accusations of kidnapping the Emperor’s illegitimate child, even framed for treason—
The Empress’s intervention at that critical moment had seemed nothing short of salvation.
And yet…
“Honestly, I thought Your Majesty disliked me.”
I remembered how displeased she had been when I probed into Baron Blaine’s past.
Flashback: [‘Let us pretend you never asked that. Best not to bring up such matters again.’]
With that cold voice still echoing in my memory, her choice to take responsibility for me and shoulder all blame seemed almost unbelievable.
“That is because…”
After a pause, the Empress smiled faintly.
“Let’s just say it was a sense of kinship.”
“…Pardon?”
The Empress smiled quietly at Roselia’s confusion.
Looking at the young, inexperienced Crown Princess, she was reminded of her own past.
“I have committed too many sins in my life.”
Born into a noble family, married off in a political match with the Imperial House, rising from Princess Consort to Empress—
To obtain what she desired, she had never hesitated at betrayal or intrigue.
In the shadows, she eliminated rivals; in the open, she abandoned family and kin—all to reach the pinnacle of power.
And the taste of that power was bitter.
“Every attempt I made to protect ‘my people’ came back to poison me. I lost His Majesty’s trust, and my son’s respect.”
A faint regret flickered in her eyes.
When the current Emperor had been the Second Prince, the Empress had poisoned the First Prince to raise her husband to Crown Prince.
Later, when her husband ascended as Emperor and sought to take concubines, she swiftly cut them down—by framing them, or crippling them beyond recovery, casting them from the palace.
Even after safely bearing an heir, the threats never ceased.
Old grudges abounded. Countless assassination attempts were made on Perwyn.
Ever watchful, she destroyed or exiled anyone who might pose even a slight danger to her son.
By the time obsessive vigilance had become her way of life, she fell ill with an unknown wasting sickness and was confined to the Empress’s Palace.
“I swore to protect the one I loved… but in the end, nothing remained for me.”
As she wasted away, both Emperor and Crown Prince turned their backs on her.
The woman once called the Iron-Blooded Empress was fading quietly into obscurity.
“…”
Roselia’s mind went cold at the Empress’s matter-of-fact confession.
Throwing oneself into ruin for the sake of love—she realized how much it resembled her own path.
The only difference was that the Empress had reached the peak of power, while Roselia never had.
‘But the miserable end remains the same.’
The Empress claimed it was for love of the Emperor, to protect the Crown Prince.
But in truth, it was nothing but blind obsession.
Neither benevolence nor maternal devotion—just a warped, possessive desire.
“Lady Roselia, I will not remain in this world much longer. That fact will not change.”
“…”
“When that time comes, protect the Crown Prince. As I once did.”
The Empress grasped Roselia’s hand firmly.
She was already preparing for the day she would be gone.
“I am not Your Majesty’s substitute. Nor your shadow.”
Roselia gently withdrew her hand.
She could sense it—because she too loved Perwyn blindly, the Empress saw her as a replacement of sorts.
But she knew she could not live up to that expectation.
“I cannot accept such a request.”
“…”
The Empress gazed at her silently.
This young, inexperienced Crown Princess seemed determined not to repeat her mistakes.
With a heavy sigh, the Empress summoned an attendant.
If emotional appeals failed, then strategy must follow.
Soon, the door opened to reveal a towering figure in knight’s uniform.
“You summoned me, Your Majesty?”
“You’ve come.”
Brecht, who had entered with a bow, froze at the sight of Roselia.
And Roselia, too, was equally stunned.
“This is…?”
“As you can see, this is Sir Brecht, the Crown Prince’s guard—and also my secret retainer.”
Both Brecht and Roselia’s eyes widened, but the Empress spoke without hesitation.
“From now on, Sir Brecht will serve as your escort. Discreetly, out of sight of others.”
“Your Majesty!”
Brecht exclaimed in alarm.
But for the Empress to reveal such a secret meant she had already resolved herself.
“This time, I ask not as the Crown Prince’s mother, but as the Empress. Stand on my side, Lady Roselia.”
With the Emperor’s illegitimate child now in play, the balance of power was bound to shift.
And so—before the board changed too much, she had to set her pieces in place.
