#76. I Despise Misunderstandings
‘But I can’t kill her. There’s neither justification nor benefit in doing so.’
In the past, Claudia had firmly believed that Elizabeth needed to be executed.
She was convinced that only then would Douglas come to his senses and give up on that so-called villainess.
‘But the current Elizabeth saved the Crown Prince and exposed the corruption within the government. She’s had a positive influence on Douglas, His Majesty, and even Lady Susan… Keeping her alive is clearly advantageous.’
Even if she harbored unrequited love, Claudia was still a knight.
Never lose your pride.
Never draw your sword recklessly.
Always hone your strength to uphold justice.
It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say she had lived her whole life guided by those beliefs.
She had no regrets—
except for the occasional pang of weariness.
All those years spent unable to confess, unable to bare even a fragment of her true heart.
‘I want to change too. I want to have Douglas for myself.’
Claudia’s blue eyes shimmered transparently, holding a thirst that could no longer be eased by mere affection from afar.
“What if His Majesty and Elizabeth truly love each other?”
“Ladia…”
“If you wish for Elizabeth’s happiness, shouldn’t you let her go?”
“Elizabeth and His Majesty can never be.”
Douglas gave a hollow laugh.
“Because His Majesty is known to be surrounded by women?”
“I don’t know the reason, but I don’t think His Majesty is a libertine.”
“Then he must truly care for Elizabeth. He desires her—and she, him.”
“There are lovers who only become unhappier the more deeply they love.”
Douglas forced the corners of his lips upward.
It wasn’t quite a smile—just a face that looked even sadder for trying.
“What a strange logic.”
“His Majesty may not be the womanizer rumors claim, but it’s still true he has multiple empresses. Put yourself in her place, Ladia. If the man you loved had several wives—even if he had no choice—could you accept it?”
“…!”
“If he told you he loved you, that you were his only one, yet continued taking new wives… Could you endure it?”
Claudia’s eyes trembled as though someone had struck a hidden nerve.
It felt as if Douglas had seen straight through a part of her heart.
“Elizabeth isn’t the kind of woman who would be content as one of many empresses. The stronger their love, the sooner their separation will come.”
“And you’re waiting for that day?” Claudia countered sharply.
Douglas lowered his gaze to his boots.
“Forgive me for showing you such a pitiful side.”
Normally, he would have shrugged, expressionless, as if to say—
Your love life doesn’t concern me.
We’re only friends, after all.
But Claudia wanted to change.
“If a woman truly loves you, she’ll embrace even your pathetic side.”
Douglas’s eyes widened.
Claudia gathered the last of her courage.
“If it’s true love… then she’ll change that damned situation. So she can have you all to herself.”
Douglas’s brown eyes grew round in shock.
Before he could respond, Claudia revealed the secret she’d heard from Marquis Brendan.
“His Majesty has never lain with any woman. Not once—with any of the empresses.”
Douglas was too stunned to speak.
Claudia had reacted the same way when she first learned it.
“It’s been kept quiet, but the empresses believe His Majesty has… a physical issue. That he was born unable to be with women.”
“Who told you that?”
“Empress Rose. I discreetly had it verified, and it turned out to be true.”
If that secret ever leaked out…
Claudia didn’t dare imagine what chaos would follow.
A bloody storm might sweep through the palace over the Crown Prince’s legitimacy.
“The Deathblossom has reappeared… How could that be?”
A hoarse, metallic rasp escaped my throat.
Even Nikolai seemed uncertain of the reason.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have worn such a sorrowful expression.
“How did you know Simon was infected?”
“I have a sharp sense of smell.”
“…Smell?”
“I can smell the stench of the Deathblossom. In fact, it’s the only scent I’ve ever been able to perceive—since the day I ascended the throne.”
His deep voice faded into the air like mist.
A destiny inherited from the previous emperor.
Nikolai explained the burden the Yevrei imperial family had carried for generations.
“Those afflicted with the Deathblossom—or who carry its seed—emit a unique stench. The creature feeds on that odor.
I hunt it, track it, isolate it. Watching and sealing the Deathblossom is the emperor’s duty.”
“Creature? What creature?”
“That… thing… lives inside me.”
Nikolai bit down hard on his lip.
His beautiful face twisted like that of a boy confessing a shameful mistake.
A secret so heavy he could barely stand beneath it.
The beginning of a story he had never dared tell anyone.
“To me, every scent in this world reeks like rot. I can’t distinguish one from another. My sense of smell only responds to the stench of the Deathblossom. But you were different.”
Suddenly, his gaze lifted.
A desperate light flickered in his sea-green eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“The first day we met—at the banquet—I caught your fragrance. It was the first scent I’d smelled since my coronation.”
Nikolai stepped closer.
So close that his sharp nose nearly brushed mine.
His breath grazed the skin of my neck as he whispered:
“It was a fragrance that washed away the filth of decay.
Sweet yet fresh, intense yet never cloying.
The only scent I can perceive in this world is yours, Elizabeth.”
“So it’s true—you really followed my scent here.”
“As long as you don’t stray too far.”
He nodded faintly, almost shyly.
“So you appeared wherever I went… not because you were stalking me, but…”
I tried to stay calm, but my strength left me.
Wherever I went, Nikolai appeared—
as if guided by magic,
as if by fate.
He reached out, tucking a strand of my crimson hair behind my ear.
That gentle touch sent a shock through my entire body.
His gaze burned into me, an unquenchable flame that leapt higher the longer it lingered—
until it became a torch,
then a pillar of fire I could hardly bear.
Each time his low, rough voice reached me, my heart pounded uncontrollably.
“You’ve saved me many times, Elizabeth.”
“Your Majesty…”
“You’ve also driven me mad. You’re unbearably sweet.”
Nikolai frowned, as though even now he struggled to restrain himself.
He brushed his thumb over my lips—
a delicate motion, like handling glass—
yet the sensation burned.
It was hard to breathe.
My heart thrashed wildly, reason slipping away.
The air between us grew feverish.
Our lips drew closer… so close I could almost taste his breath.
My mouth watered—because I remembered all too well what his lips felt like, how they tasted, how they smelled.
“…So you can’t taste food anymore?”
I hurried to change the subject—
because if I didn’t, something indecent might happen right there in the temple.
“When I was crown prince, I used to sneak out of the palace to eat grilled skewers.
But now, I can’t remember that flavor anymore.”
A shadow crossed Nikolai’s face as he recalled the past.
The shabby little eatery we’d once visited flashed before my eyes—
the savory smell of oil, the smoky heat of the grill,
the sauce fragrant with herbs and spice.
Nikolai had laid the freshly cooked skewers neatly before me,
resting his chin on his hand, smiling faintly as he watched me eat.
So that’s why you always ate like a machine…
To live in a world that only smells of decay—how unbearable that must be.
No words could truly capture the weight of the life he’d endured.
But I knew too well the horror of a plague.
In my previous life, I had died of a new infectious disease—
one with high transmission and high lethality,
a curse without cure.
The sturdy medical systems, the proud science,
the culture humanity had built over centuries—
all crumbled in an instant.
In Nikolai’s world, the devastation must have been even worse.
And now I’m supposed to live through it again?
Seriously? Is this what I was reincarnated for?
The terror of my past life began to creep back in.
Before my eyes, death’s long, black fingers reached out—
cold and thin as iron spikes—
clutching my neck, dragging me toward a bottomless swamp.
“Elizabeth…”
Nikolai wrapped his arms around my shoulders.
He must have sensed my trembling before I did.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Is there… any way to stop the Deathblossom from spreading?”
“To be honest, no. There’s nothing I can do but monitor and isolate it.
And this time, it’s… changing. Mutating.”
“Wouldn’t the goddess Morasinthia help?”
“I can’t say. I met with Cardinal Arkansas, but he refused to share any prophecy.”
Cardinal Arkansas?
Was there even a character like that in the original story?
I couldn’t remember.
If there was, I’d know. But… the name sounds familiar somehow…
A sense of unease churned in my stomach.
Yes—this was the point of no return.
The story I once knew could no longer guide me.
Too much had already changed.
Even the “Deathblossom” had never existed in the original.
I have to meet this Cardinal Arkansas. He’s the first one who realized I possess Morasinthia’s Eye.
Was he connected to the white light?
Why had that light brought me back to this world—right before the outbreak began?
As confusion clouded my mind, Nikolai rested a hand on my shoulder.
“When I first caught your scent, I knew.
You might be the key to ending the Deathblossom.”
A chill wind swept through the air.
I clenched my fists until my nails dug into my palms,
but the dizziness wouldn’t subside.
“So that’s why you brought me to the palace?”
“I couldn’t let you go.”
My heart dropped.
This wasn’t something I wanted to hear.
But Nikolai didn’t stop.
“You were my first and last hope. That’s why I wanted to keep you close.”
So that’s why you proposed that contract?
Why you forced me to become your empress?
It felt as if all the blood in my body drained out through my fingertips.
I’d known from the beginning that Nikolai intended to use me.
After all, I’d approached him to use him too.
But even knowing that—
the anxiety, the loneliness that swelled inside me were unbearable.
I remembered what Nikolai had said when we first met:
“Be a little more honest. It’ll taste even sweeter that way.”
I had thought it was just another flirtation from the story’s tyrant.
At least, I’d believed he saw me as a woman.
But even then, Nikolai hadn’t been a man.
He had been an emperor.
And I wasn’t a woman to him—
just someone useful.
Don’t misunderstand, Elizabeth.
No matter how it began, the feelings you’ve shared with him are real.
Your heart is real. His gaze is real.
You don’t have to doubt that.
Then, a shadowed voice whispered from somewhere deep within:
But isn’t it strange, Elizabeth?
Why tell you this crucial truth only now—
just as you’ve come here in search of the second relic?
