Chapter 10
Sian Bermuth had been acting very strangely lately.
He had never, not once in his entire life, slept soundly—until recently.
“What I love most,” the Empress murmured softly, “is drinking warm tea on a rainy day. The sound of the raindrops pattering down makes my ears feel relaxed, and the tea warms my body.”
Every time she whispered like that, Sian found himself drifting off before he could stop it. His eyes would close on their own, and every night, he’d grind his teeth in frustration.
Tomorrow, I’ll figure it out. No matter what trick she’s using.
But it was no use.
Every single night, without fail, he fell asleep the moment he heard her voice. Like some newborn baby.
When he woke before dawn, he felt… conflicted.
Has my willpower really become this weak?
This was the same mental strength that hadn’t wavered through battlefields and torture chambers—yet it melted into nothing the moment he faced the Empress.
But that wasn’t even the biggest problem.
“Your Majesty, have you had breakfast?”
“Let’s have lunch together, Your Majesty!”
The Empress kept invading his daily life with the most trivial excuses—and the problem was that he didn’t mind it at all.
This was the man famous for torturing captured enemies without a shred of mercy. When his temper soured, blood literally soaked the palace floors.
So why couldn’t he get angry at her?
Is it because I’ve been sleeping well?
It was true—ever since he’d fallen asleep while listening to the Empress, his mind had been clearer. His sleep was short but deeply restful.
The migraines that had plagued him for over ten years, the tinnitus, the hallucinations, the compulsions—they had all nearly vanished.
He’d even started handling imperial affairs himself again, instead of leaving them all to Duke Celeste as he had for years.
No… that can’t be it.
If it were only because of good sleep, he’d still have been irritated during the recent meeting with his ministers. Their long-winded reports were as infuriating as ever.
But then—
“Your Majesty?”
The moment the small Empress peeked through the door and met his eyes—
All the anger and murderous intent rising inside him simply evaporated.
And that voice—why did it sound so sweet? Like fruit soaked in honey until it melted on the tongue.
Why?
There were, objectively, many women with prettier voices. Princesses from neighboring kingdoms, noble ladies, even opera singers he’d heard at banquets.
But those voices had only ever made him irritable and worsened his headaches.
“Your Majesty! It’s time for dinner!”
Yet the Empress’s voice—he could listen to it forever. It tickled his ears, soft and warm, like the brush of silk.
So in the end, he simply couldn’t bring himself to stop her from meddling in his life.
He, the god of the battlefield, the man who could crush her with one hand—couldn’t win against this delicate woman.
He could’ve endured his insomnia and headaches as he always had. But, absurdly, the more he heard that voice, the more he wanted to keep hearing it.
That was why he’d accepted her request to dine together once a day.
Pathetic.
Sian laughed bitterly at the ridiculous arrangement. But deep down, he felt ashamed.
The truth was, whenever that voice called to him, his body just… moved on its own. Like a loyal dog waiting for its master.
Before he knew it, he’d always be sitting across from her again.
And that was what truly disgusted him about himself.
But the most pathetic thing?
“Why won’t Your Majesty ever say anything?”
When the chattering Empress finally asked that with a pout—
Sian realized something.
He stayed silent… because he wanted to keep hearing her voice.
I’m insane.
He cursed himself inwardly. But a moment later, he was struck by another horrifying realization.
Every time he heard that sweet, babbling voice, he had been fighting to hold something back.
So why does she still keep the harem?
That question—he’d almost asked it aloud.
The instant he realized it mid-meal, he clamped his mouth shut. He couldn’t risk blurting out something so idiotic.
From that day on, he made sure to act colder and sharper around her.
“Your Majesty, they say going to bed early and waking early is good for your health.”
But why did the Empress keep showing such interest in him? Even when he barely responded, even when he spoke curtly, she never stopped.
And sometimes, in the middle of his day, Sian would suddenly realize he was thinking about her again.
Why she followed him. Why she smiled at him. Why she cared.
And it drove him mad.
So, finally, he decided to confront her and end this nonsense once and for all.
He’d go to the Empress’s Palace himself and ask:
Why are you always following me? Why do you chatter endlessly and make my mind such a mess?
He’d demand an answer, clear up this strange confusion once and for all.
But when he arrived unexpectedly—
“Where is the Empress?”
“H-Her Majesty went to the harem, Your Majesty. She said she had… urgent business.”
She cared so much about him, and yet now she was visiting her concubines?
For some reason, that made him angry. Irritated. Unsettled.
Is she toying with me?
She fussed over him as though he were the most precious man in the world—and then went running off to her harem men?
Not long ago, that harem had been her pride and joy. Surely she was laughing there now, smiling just as brightly.
That could only mean one thing—
She was showing him that, Emperor or not, he was just another man to her.
That must be why he felt so damn irritated.
“We’re leaving. And you will all forget I was ever here.”
He ordered the attendants to keep his visit secret and left the Empress’s Palace, expression unreadable.
And he swore to himself—
From now on, he would no longer care about the Empress.
The plan was going perfectly.
I offered Lindo Carsel a deal: if he worked as my personal apothecary for the next two years, I’d pay for his Imperial Academy tuition.
“I’ve developed a new hobby,” I said cheerfully. “Poison. Specifically, antidotes. I want you to study them.”
“Poison…?”
Lindo gave me a look filled with suspicion.
“That’s a disrespectful look, you know?”
“…My apologies.”
He bowed quickly, the protest headband still tied around his head.
Honestly, given my reputation, his reaction wasn’t unreasonable. I clicked my tongue and clarified.
“I’m not trying to poison anyone. I’m trying to make sure I’m not poisoned. You know exactly what I mean, don’t you?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Hey, maybe deny it a little less eagerly next time?
“In that case,” he said smoothly, “I’ll need assurance that my own life will be protected in the meantime.”
“Of course! I’m desperate to stay alive too—why would I hurt you?”
At that, Lindo untied his headband and smiled sweetly.
“I’ll trust the Empress’s word. But just in case—if Your Majesty ever changes your mind and decides to cancel the contract unilaterally…”
“I won’t.”
“Then I’ll leak the details of your poison research to the academic circles and the press. I happen to have some… connections.”
If that happened, rumors would explode—“The depraved Empress plots to poison her enemies!”
I coughed dryly. Smart bastard. Clearly, he’d learned not to trust people like the old Lea.
“Fine,” I said grudgingly. “That’ll never happen. But in exchange, you’ll serve me faithfully for two years, no matter what. Otherwise, forget tuition—you’ll be charged with deceiving the Empress and thrown in the dungeon. You’ve heard how merciless I can be, right?”
“Naturally. From this moment, I am Your Majesty’s most devoted servant.”
He tucked the signed contract neatly into his chest pocket and beamed. His face glittered like polished marble—typical of a former harem favorite.
I gave him a dry look, but still, the contract was a success.
We each kept a copy of the new agreement.
The tuition cost was enough to make my future finances cry, but—well, investments were necessary for talent. You reap what you fund.
And if the money runs short, I’ll just “negotiate” a discount with the Academy director.
My reputation was already ruined—what’s a little tuition haggling?
While I was proudly crafting that shameless plan, Lindo was already jotting down notes.
“Your Majesty,” he said briskly, “poison is best studied through experience, not theory. To prevent poisoning, it’s wise to build resistance by ingesting diluted samples over time.”
Quick, efficient—definitely top of his class.
“That sounds… risky, doesn’t it?”
“I’ll have antidotes ready, of course. But prevention is better than cure. Start with mild toxic herbs—their young leaves are so weak you’ll only feel a little tired.”
He spoke with such fervor he offered to try them himself first.
Thank goodness he’s working for me, I thought. If he were my enemy, I’d be six feet under already.
I nodded, half in awe, half in terror.
“However,” he added, “buying those herbs on the market could attract suspicion. It would be safer to cultivate them privately here in the Empress’s Palace.”
“Hmm. Then I’ll need more attendants—ones who can keep their mouths shut.”
“Why bother recruiting new ones? Use the ones still clinging to the palace pillars outside. Promise not to expel them, and they’ll obey gladly. They seem to have nowhere else to go.”
Ah. So that’s why they wouldn’t leave.
I was delighted at how smoothly things were progressing.
“Good idea! There are only about three of them, so their wages won’t be too high. I’ll put them to work in the herb garden starting today!”
“…Your Majesty, you’ve become remarkably frugal since I last saw you.”
Lindo sounded almost impressed.
Well, for someone once called the Queen of Excess, I guess that was surprising.
“Really?” I replied innocently. “Then maybe I should be even more frugal. The foreign royal academies are much cheaper, after all…”
“Ahem—A beautiful Empress deserves tea, not numbers. May I offer you a cup?”
The harem training hadn’t gone to waste—Lindo immediately poured me a cup with a dazzling smile.
I laughed brightly and accepted, sipping it in celebration.
A toast—not with wine, but with tea—to welcome my second loyal aide.
And that very evening, the remaining concubines were officially reassigned as attendants.
By nightfall, they were out in the courtyard, cheerfully digging up the new herb garden.
