Chapter 44
However, there was no such thing as an eternal moment.
If either Amelia or Ivan had died in that instant, then perhaps it would have been an eternal moment in someone’s life.
“So.”
Leaning his upper body against the stack of cushions piled against the bed’s headboard, Ivan pulled Amelia onto his lap.
When Amelia let all the strength drain from her body and rested against him, their upper bodies pressed flush together.
“Tell me why you’re like this.”
She could feel only the rough texture of his shirt beneath her palm—he was still wearing it, so there was no smooth skin.
Strangely, it felt like a kind of distance between them—Amelia, who had laid herself bare, and the man who had left one last layer on.
“You must have a reason for this.”
“…I heard something strange.”
Amelia’s reply was almost a whisper. Ivan didn’t ask what she had heard. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her waist, twining a strand of her hair lazily around his finger.
“Louis said… you’re looking for a family to send a proposal to.”
Amelia’s hand tightened. The white shirt beneath it rustled and creased with the motion, faint tremors passing through along with her trembling.
“So I thought there’s no way that could be true, but then suddenly…”
“……”
“I realized… I don’t even know what we are to each other.”
Amelia murmured.
While she spoke in a stream, Ivan never interrupted.
He neither denied it as a misunderstanding nor clarified what their relationship was.
“We’ve spent nights together, we’ve had a child, and even now we’re like this.”
Ivan finally let go of her hair, and Amelia pulled back slightly, bracing her hands against his chest.
“Ivan.”
“……”
“What are we?”
Her voice shook. It was a question she had swallowed back countless times.
Ivan didn’t answer right away—more like, he couldn’t.
Naturally so.
They weren’t married, so they couldn’t be called husband and wife; and they weren’t lovers so much as two people enjoying a secret fling.
Everything was too uncertain to promise a future.
“What will we be… from here on?”
Amelia’s tone was pleading, as if begging him to say the answer she wanted to hear.
“……”
Judging by his face, Ivan knew exactly what answer she wanted.
Yet his lips stayed firmly shut.
There was a flicker of Ah, you caught me, in his expression—tinged with mild annoyance.
“Ivan.”
She pressed him again, calling his name.
They had come too far for him to weasel out with some vague, trailing answer.
“Is it a vow or a promise you want to hear?”
His reply came with a low sigh. The way he dragged his hand down his face was halfhearted—like a man caught in something bothersome.
“What?”
“Isn’t this fine, just the way we are?”
Fine like this? What did he mean?
Neither of them looked away, but Amelia couldn’t bring herself to ask, afraid her worst suspicion might be confirmed.
“You know you can’t be my wife.”
Ivan spoke slowly. His unwavering gaze made it obvious this was his truth.
Amelia’s hand crumpled his shirt in her grip.
“Even if every truth came to light, you could never be my empress.
Even if your intentions were innocent, you’re still a high traitor who deceived the Empire and aided the temple.
The best I can do is keep you alive.”
He knew that she already understood this, but Ivan went on.
If anything, he spoke as though coaxing her to face reality—his tone deceptively gentle even as it stabbed at her heart.
“Being emperor doesn’t mean I can do whatever I want. You know that.”
A tear slipped down.
The warmth his touch had kindled cooled until her body felt abandoned on a winter street.
Her mind froze, as though exposed to a bitter wind all day.
“I…”
The words lodged in her throat.
It felt like something was stuffed into her chest and then pressed down with all its weight.
It was suffocating.
She began to gasp for air.
“I can’t promise to make you my wife. And of course I can’t promise never to marry—marriage is my duty.”
Ivan patted her back gently, as if telling her to breathe.
The only promise he made, quickly and clearly, was that he would keep her alive—that he would keep her as his mistress.
Nothing like the hesitation he had shown before.
“But if you follow me, I won’t cast you aside. That I can promise. I know you’ve risked your life to help me.”
Ivan straightened a little and brushed a brief kiss against her temple.
Even as he spoke cruel words, his gestures were tender—as though wishing to ease her pain.
Cowardly.
“Sorry. If I promised you now, it would only be a lie.”
So when it’s a promise he can actually keep, he’s this clear about it.
Amelia gave a hollow laugh, remembering how she had once clung to him for a promise.
If he couldn’t be certain, Ivan would never vow it.
And to this day, he had never made her a single promise.
Perhaps from the start, Ivan had never wanted to pledge to be anything to her.
Their relationship had only changed without his intention.
But if that’s the case… what am I supposed to do, when I’ve already been swept away?
Her blurred gaze searched for his face as she gripped his shirt like she might tear it apart.
“I’ll give you a house outside the palace. I’ll come see you.”
“In secret? Meeting only at night like this?”
She asked with a bitter edge.
But instead of getting angry, Ivan simply stroked her face with his large hand, as if her tears pained him.
It was him. The man she loved so fiercely.
Yet his touch brought no comfort at all.
To me, you can never be more than my mistress.
She could feel that was exactly what he meant.
And she knew, painfully well, that it was the best he could offer.
What was more ridiculous was that she was shaken by even this meager contact.
“Amelia.”
The grief brought more tears.
Not being able to keep the man she loved entirely to herself, not having the right to cross the line he had drawn.
Not even being able to resent him for it.
It was enough to drive her mad.
“Why did you… why did you call me here?”
“……”
“You could’ve kept me forever out of reach. Let me hear news of you and Ian from afar.”
Her tone brimmed with reproach.
Ivan’s face twisted slightly—as if realizing too late that his uncharacteristic consideration had only deepened her despair.
“If you had…”
If he had, she might have been able to live ignoring both Ivan and Ian.
On the day she learned Ivan was alive—on the day she sent Ian into his arms as the Emperor of Esclyf—that could have been the end of everything.
Of course, Aaron would still have tried to kill Ian, but she could have prayed, trusting Ivan to protect him.
And even if Ian had died, she could have buried the grief, believing Ivan had done his utmost.
But instead, Ivan had found some pretext to summon her to the palace.
Even if he hadn’t intended this outcome, in the end he had taken her in, kissed her, and whispered like a lover.
Made her hope—made her feel like they were just an ordinary couple, an ordinary family.
As if he would keep her by his side.
“Then I wouldn’t have wanted more.”
Her face buried in his shoulder, Amelia wept.
This time, though, Ivan didn’t pat her back.
That would only give her false hope.
“I… I didn’t want to become a shadow again…”
Why did you make me hope?
She had lived her whole life as someone other than herself—a shadow.
That life wasn’t new to her.
But the moment the man who had once made her feel she could live as herself, not a shadow, revealed that he intended to turn her back into one—
That despair, she had no way to endure.
