Chapter 16
“You think you’re clever enough to play games, but you’d better choose the right side. Haven’t you heard that I almost succeeded in assassinating Leonie? The Leonie who’s surrounded by layers of protection in the Imperial Palace. Or that I once poisoned her?”
“Th-that…”
Shima’s face turned pale.
Now that I thought about it, the only one who actually knew I’d sent assassins after Leonie was Bessie.
But letting this maid know wasn’t a bad idea—she wouldn’t have any proof, but it would be enough to scare her.
I lowered my voice to a quick whisper.
“If you don’t believe me, ask Bessie—my personal maid.
And Shima, how easy do you think it would be for me to deal with someone like you, with nothing to your name?
Do you think Leonie in the palace would even bother to care about you?”
Probably not. Especially now that Leonie might never come back to this house.
The only reason the maids in Leonie’s faction dared to act like this was because I’d been working toward becoming Empress. I tolerated their arrogance because I didn’t want unnecessary trouble.
But I didn’t need to do that anymore.
I tightened my grip on Shima’s wrist.
“If I change my mind, I can call the butler right now and have you thrown out of this mansion—accused of stealing from my jewelry box. Without a letter of recommendation. Do you think Gemma will defend you then?”
With that, I let go of her wrist and said in a calm voice,
“Think about it carefully. I’m helping you.”
Shima rubbed her wrist and backed away, looking like she was about to cry. I clearly saw her exchange a nervous glance with the maid she’d come with. No doubt, the moment she left this room, she’d tell them she failed her mission and repeat my threat word-for-word.
Let’s see how the Leonie faction handles a little internal conflict.
As soon as the maids left, I took two sleeping pills and went back to sleep.
If I couldn’t eat, the only way to get through this was by sleeping. Threatening a couple of arrogant maids wouldn’t change my situation anyway.
When I woke again, it was already dark.
Popo was curled up beside my head, sleeping. She must have gone out to hunt because there was a bit of blood on her mouth.
“Yip!”
“Good—at least you’ve eaten.”
I dampened a tissue and wiped her face.
Looking around the room, I noticed fresh clothes neatly folded on the side table. If they were from Leonie’s faction, they wouldn’t have been folded so nicely—they probably would’ve “accidentally” woken me to make me even hungrier.
No, these were from my faction—maids loyal to me. They must have seen me sleeping and left quietly without disturbing me.
I didn’t feel like calling for anyone, so I washed and picked up a new nightgown to change into. But as I lifted it, something slipped out and fell to the floor.
It was jerky.
Only one person would do this.
Thank you, Bessie.
Once, when I was under house arrest and banned from meals, Bessie had secretly brought me food. She was caught and beaten by the head maid until she was almost unconscious. I’d felt so guilty after that. I thought she’d never risk it again—but here we were.
I tore off a bite-sized piece and ate it, hiding the rest under my pillow.
In the corner of my room, unopened birthday gifts were still piled high. Originally, I’d planned to sort through them right after returning from lunch with the Duke’s son.
I’d have to send polite thank-you letters to important families, sort the gifts, and donate suitable ones to the temple.
But right now? I didn’t feel like doing anything. I wasn’t going to be Empress anymore—why waste effort on these people? My father’s reputation was the last thing I cared about.
I threw on a shawl and stepped onto the balcony.
The moon was especially bright tonight, though there were no stars.
The dark sky looks just like my future, I thought.
At least the night sky still had the moon—my future didn’t even have that.
A thought came to me.
Did Owen ta Glentino know how I was treated here?
If he thought I was a beloved eldest daughter, maybe that’s why he made that ridiculous marriage proposal.
If he found out the truth… would he disappear from my life, too, after giving me such a short but sweet taste of kindness?
I was sinking into those thoughts when Popo suddenly came to my side and whined, looking toward the garden.
Curious, I followed her gaze—and froze.
There, standing right below my balcony, was…
“Owen ta Glentino.”
He was in this garden—of the Bartoli mansion.
I rubbed my eyes, thinking I was imagining things. But he didn’t vanish. Even the huge bouquet in his hand stayed there.
Even in the faint moonlight, he seemed to shine—like the moon itself had fallen into the garden.
I crouched down quickly, speechless. Whenever I was with this man, I often found myself at a loss for words. Leaning toward the railing, I whispered,
“What are you doing here?”
He took a few steps closer, speaking in a low voice that carried easily through the cold night air.
“I came in through the dog hole you told me about before.”
“No, I mean—why are you here?”
“You didn’t contact me. I told you to think about it and then send me word.”
What?!
“You said that yesterday morning!”
“To me, an hour feels like a day. It’s been thirty hours already—so I’ve basically given you a month.”
What kind of twisted logic was that?
“Well, to me, it felt like a blink. And are you only going to give me that much time?”
At that, he looked genuinely disappointed—so much so that I could almost imagine drooping ears and tail on him.
“I know I shouldn’t rush you, my lady. But what can I do if I’m impatient?”
…Why is a man like him clinging to me? Who even am I to him?
Before I could answer, his expression shifted instantly.
“Anyway, are you going to leave your guest standing out here like this?”
Bold man.
And yet… for some reason, this shamelessness was starting to look cute.
I didn’t even think about the risk of my father finding out or the impropriety of letting a man into my room at this hour.
Keeping my face composed, I said,
“You can’t come in through the front door. Why don’t you try climbing up here?”
There were no trees or ladders near my room. Unless his hands were suction cups, climbing straight up the wall was impossible.
But he just smiled confidently, rummaging through the bundle he carried.
“Please step back a little.”
I took a few steps back, holding Popo.
A moment later, I heard a whish and saw a small hook catch on my balcony railing. When I hurried back to look, Owen was holding onto a long rope—he’d thrown it up here.
Then, without any other equipment, he started climbing.
Unbelievable. Even mercenaries would have trouble doing that. How strong was this man to pull himself up like that with just his arms?
In no time, he was at the railing, hopping over without breaking a sweat—still holding the bouquet in his mouth.
I muttered, almost in awe,
“You really came prepared.”
“Yes, I’m a very thorough man.”
He set the rope aside on the balcony. Then his eyes flicked down to my feet and he grinned teasingly—he’d noticed I was wearing the fluffy white slippers he’d given me.
“I knew you’d like white.”
“I don’t.”
“Really? Your nightgown is white, the fox you’re holding is white, and even your vanity and table are white.”
…Okay, I couldn’t argue with that. Maybe I should dye everything just to prove a point.
Leaving him standing outside felt rude, so I let him in. I didn’t have anything to serve him, but that was his problem for showing up unannounced.
He stepped inside a little awkwardly—not like him—but his eyes were full of curiosity.
