6. How to Safely Refuse Sharing the Bed (1)
He could swear on it—Rescal had never smiled like that before.
Even his closest shadow knights had never seen such an expression, so no one else had, either.
“Your Majesty, are you… in a good mood?”
Serven asked with a dazed look.
“In a good mood? Why are you asking something like that?”
And to be honest, even Rescal himself hadn’t realized it. He didn’t even know he was smiling.
“Well, it’s just… you look like you’re in a good mood.”
“I’m not sure about that.”
“I… I see.”
Rescal, whose face clearly showed he was in high spirits, denied it, and the shadow knights awkwardly looked away.
“But what does wearing a nightgown have to do with amnesia?”
Breaking the awkwardness, Serven asked. Liyan, glad for the change of topic, quickly chimed in.
“Let’s say you’ve got a terrible relationship with someone. But you can’t avoid them, and you also can’t keep things as they are. What would you do?”
“Hmm… well, I’d probably try talking to them.”
“And what if you’ve got such a twisted personality that you can’t bring yourself to say anything?”
“Hmm? Are there really people like that?”
“There are. Like our Empress.”
“Ah… ah!”
Understanding suddenly dawning, Serven clapped his hands.
“She wants to change the relationship but can’t bring herself to say, ‘I’m sorry, let’s try to get along.’ So instead, she acts like nothing bad ever happened.”
“So that’s why she brought up amnesia.”
“That’s what I think, anyway.”
Liyan smirked mischievously at Rescal.
“Well, I can’t begin to understand Her Majesty’s inner thoughts. But it seems like she’s trying, in her own way, to mend things with you.”
“I see.”
Rescal smiled again.
He might not realize it himself, but it was obvious to the two knights.
“So, perhaps Your Majesty should try putting in some effort too?”
“What kind of effort?”
“Hmm… maybe send her flowers, like other husbands do?”
Serven jumped in.
“Her Majesty likes gardenias.”
Liyan looked at him in surprise.
“What? How do you know that?”
“By chance. Last winter, the staff at the Empress’s palace caused an uproar because they couldn’t find any gardenias.”
“An uproar? Did someone die or something?”
“I heard three gardeners were fired. Don’t know if they’re alive or not.”
“In that case, let’s assume they’re dead… Ahem. Anyway, Your Majesty. Gardenias.”
Surprisingly, Rescal nodded.
“Do it.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Liyan quickly answered and elbowed Serven.
“Go on, then.”
“…Alright.”
Normally, Serven would have protested against being pushed into such a troublesome task. But not today.
Today was too important.
“…What?”
Rasilia couldn’t believe what she’d just heard and asked again.
“You mean… there’s a meaning behind physical contact?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The maids glanced at the Empress nervously, not knowing why.
They knew her memory loss was a lie, so they wondered why she was pretending so thoroughly. But they couldn’t question it.
The Empress’s look of shock seemed far too genuine.
“So, it’s essentially… referring to a marital relationship.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“And that means during a Blue Moon…”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“…”
Rasilia fell silent.
Was it true that the blood of demons flowed through the royal family of Eliahdan? I thought it was just an old myth.
Then again, those golden eyes couldn’t be explained otherwise.
So that’s what it was about…
Now she understood why the Emperor had come to her bedroom that day and done what he did. And why one of the shadow knights had threatened her—that he’d be forced to act if she didn’t.
This is really bad.
Putting aside the issue of the marital relationship, she wasn’t even the real Empress.
Which meant she could never be his fated partner. A sudden chill ran down her spine.
That dream… what if it was because he realized I’m not the real one? What if that’s why he kills me?
In the dream, she had desperately said she loved him. And the Emperor had replied he didn’t need that kind of love.
If it was to survive, then she understood that desperation.
But that’s not the whole problem.
Rasilia clenched her fist tightly.
Being a fake was a serious matter. They said the Emperor couldn’t control the demonic blood without his fated partner. If he fully transformed into a demon after his thirtieth birthday, no one knew what would happen next.
What am I supposed to do?
The Blue Moon was only a few days away.
She had to find a solution in that time.
Knock knock!
“Your Majesty, the Emperor has sent you a gift!”
The interruption came unexpectedly.
“What?”
“What’s going on?”
Even the maids were more shocked than Rasilia.
The door opened wide, and a stream of enormous vases filled with flowers poured in.
“Oh my goodness…”
After the servants from the Emperor’s palace left, the Empress’s bedroom looked like a flower field. The scent of gardenias was so strong that the maids had to open the windows to breathe.
“You must be so happy, Your Majesty.”
Marchioness Fashad spoke cheerfully, unaware of the Empress’s turmoil.
“Of all flowers, he sent you the ones you love, and so many of them, too! He’s never done this before… It must mean the Emperor has finally come to love you.”
Rasilia bit her lip hard before speaking.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“…Pardon, Your Majesty?”
“You say ‘finally come to love me,’ which means he didn’t love me before. And just like amnesia isn’t a reason to love someone, His Majesty has no reason to suddenly love me now. The flowers are probably just a gesture of comfort.”
“I… I see…”
The Marchioness stammered, unable to finish her sentence.
That reaction made it clear just how strained the Emperor and Empress’s relationship had always been.
Not just strained—they were openly watching each other with suspicion.
There were rumors even in Dellarta that the Emperor abused the Empress. Even if they were exaggerated, there must have been some truth. That knight said the Empress hadn’t fulfilled her role… maybe that’s what led to the abuse.
What had really gone wrong between them? What kind of marriage had they shared?
One thought led to another.
And all the while, evening steadily approached.
Count Persson, the head attendant of the Emperor’s palace, was an extremely capable man.
Overshadowed by the two shadow knights, his presence was often overlooked, but he always performed his duties flawlessly.
He had also heard, a little later than the knights, that the Empress would be coming to the Emperor.
He, too, knew that the Emperor had ordered every gardenia in the palace garden picked and sent to the Empress. He was the one who had driven the gardeners like mad to make it happen.
In preparation for tonight—the possible first night together in four years—he had everything ready.
Dozens of candles lit the Emperor’s bedroom. Every curtain was drawn.
A table had been brought in and set with dinner for two, along with the palace’s sweetest wine.
But above all, the Emperor’s attire was key.
Since the Empress had worn the nightgown meant for their wedding night, the Emperor had to wear something to match.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have a special wedding-night nightgown prepared. But he had plenty of new ones to choose from.
After long deliberation, Persson decided on a night robe instead.
To complement the Emperor’s golden eyes and hair, the robe had to be black.
It would be embroidered—not in gold thread, which would be too flashy, but in silver, and the patterns should be elegant, but not plain.
After choosing the robe, Persson applied gardenia-scented perfume to it.
When he suggested wearing it directly over bare skin, Rescal silently stared at him.
“Ahem… You’ll look marvelous, Your Majesty.”
Persson prided himself on having the best taste in the entire imperial palace.
“The atmosphere is soft and sensual—Her Majesty won’t want to sleep anywhere else tonight.”
“…If you say so.”
Eventually, Rescal slid his arms into the robe.
Tying the sash just loose enough to appear natural, Persson personally styled Rescal’s hair instead of the maids.
“I recommend bangs tonight, Your Majesty.”
“Do as you like.”
With permission granted, Persson moved swiftly. He nearly hummed but held back, keeping a dignified expression.
“All done, Your Majesty.”
Even as he stepped back, Persson felt immense pride at the finished look.
“Her Majesty will surely be enchanted.”
Persson knew the Empress had a nasty personality. But no matter how twisted a woman she was, no one could resist such beauty—and she mustn’t.
They couldn’t reach the Emperor’s thirtieth birthday like this.
Clearly, the Emperor, aware that time was running out, was finally trying to restore their marital relationship.
So, Persson was determined to do his part.
But then Rescal spoke again—and froze him.
“If the Empress doesn’t like it, you’ll take responsibility.”
“H-Huh… Y-Your Majesty…”
As Persson paled, Rescal turned to the clock.
It was nearly time for the Empress to arrive.
There was no escape.
Rasilia had even considered hiding somewhere. But the Emperor had already sent people to guard every passage leading out of her chambers.
“Your Majesty, it is time.”
“…”
She looked at the short man who introduced himself as the chief attendant of the Emperor’s palace.
From the moment she entered, he had been counting down the seconds. The determination to bring her before the Emperor was written all over his face.
Well, if I’ve refused so many times before, I guess this was inevitable… There’s no avoiding it.
There was nothing to be done.
If she couldn’t avoid facing the Emperor, she had to find another way.
Rasilia swallowed hard and nodded.
“Lead the way.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Surrounded on all sides by maids, attendants, and royal guards, Rasilia headed toward the Emperor’s palace.
There were so many people, anyone watching would’ve thought she was off to war, not to see her husband.
Clack.
They reached the Emperor’s palace. The required formalities were exchanged, everyone else left, and the doors closed behind her.
“…”
Rasilia felt suffocated. The Emperor’s bedchamber was even darker than the Prophet’s room. The air felt heavy, pressing down on her like a weight.
And there, the man who radiated the greatest presence swept his golden hair back in the dim light and opened his lips.
“Well then,”
“…”
“Why don’t you tell me… what we should do now?”
