Chapter 49
“All in accordance with God’s will, is that it?”
It was at the moment when Amelia and Ivan stood locked in a silent standoff, neither averting their gaze. The Duke of Russell’s voice, thrown into the air for all to hear, broke through the stillness like a wedge. His tone served to stir the frozen atmosphere of the room.
“……”
At the same time, the faint betrayal marring Ivan’s expression was overtaken by contempt and anger. Whether Amelia had acted on her own or not, to him, it seemed she had colluded with the Duke of Russell in some scheme.
“God has commanded this, you say?”
But the flickering emotions on Ivan’s face vanished at once. He simply asked again in a flat, unreadable tone.
“Yes.”
Amelia answered without retreating. At that, Ivan let out a small chuckle—far too casual for the gravity of the situation. Had he gone mad from sheer fury? While everyone else darted uneasy glances, rolling their eyes in silence—
“Are you sure you didn’t mishear?”
Ivan spoke as if humoring some amusing rumor. He clearly had no intention of following the false oracle Amelia had proclaimed.
“Absolutely not.”
“……”
“I have no reason to fabricate divine prophecy.”
At her words, Ivan covered his eyes with one hand and laughed. Now he seemed as though he could no longer hold back his amusement.
“I can’t do that.”
But the moment he lowered his hand, the smile vanished without a trace, replaced by such a neutral expression that one could hardly believe it had ever been there.
“If it is the god who has long protected Escleef, then He must know.”
“……”
“The imperial house of Escleef has always been bound by noble bloodlines. That is nothing like your so-called holy origin story—falling suddenly from the heavens.”
His cold voice drew a sharp line between them. The most precious blood in the land versus a self-proclaimed emissary of God—between them lay a gulf as wide as heaven and earth.
“Perhaps it doesn’t matter to the temple who serves as a priest, but the imperial house is different.”
His eyes were winter frost, asking if she truly meant to thrust her child into a place where he could never belong. A flush of humiliation rose in Amelia’s chest. She bit the inside of her lip, careful not to let it show.
“Besides, I am not yet wed. I have no children.”
With that, Ivan erased Iaan’s existence entirely. Amelia felt as though someone had scored a blade across her heart.
“Unless I were impotent, or the woman destined to be my wife were barren—which neither is the case—how could you demand that I suddenly name that boy crown prince?”
“If that is God’s will.”
So she met his accusation head-on. If she backed down now, she felt she would truly become nothing, and Iaan’s existence would be dismissed, fading quietly into nothingness.
“No. Even if it is God’s will, that is the one thing I cannot obey.”
Ivan did not yield either. It was as if he could not tolerate her openly scorning him in a diplomatic setting, with foreign envoys present.
“No matter how little regard you have for the imperial house, there are lines you do not cross.”
His voice was a blade—proof that even when he seemed indifferent, he had been striving in his own way to be civil.
“A child abandoned in the street.”
With the creak of a chair shifting back, Ivan rose and took his time descending the steps toward her. Amelia never took her eyes off him for a moment—part vigilance, part foolish hope, even now.
“How could the seed of unknown parentage possibly be made crown prince?”
But what he left her with was nothing but scorn.
“Your Holiness!”
Louis rushed toward Amelia when he saw her being led away by the maids. Nearly stumbling, he caught her as she collapsed.
“You may go.”
His voice carried a faint undercurrent of anger as he dismissed them. The maids bowed politely before withdrawing. Louis watched them closely, but that was all—he could find no reason to blame them. They had treated her without roughness; Amelia’s weakness was her own.
“What happened in there?”
Louis’s question stirred her mind at last, which had been frozen since hearing Ivan’s words.
“How could the seed of unknown parentage possibly be made crown prince?”
How could he say such a thing?
When Ivan had, before everyone, declared Iaan a lowborn creature whose very parentage was unknown, she could not even cry out. It was as if the shock had frozen her body, proving the saying that when you’re truly stunned, you cannot even move a finger.
“You don’t look well. Best you rest instead of remaining at the reception.”
Ivan had murmured the words in her ear. Almost at once, maids had taken her by the arms. She knew she should resist—shout, curse him—but she couldn’t. Her body wouldn’t move; her mind was numb.
“Take her away.”
As they led her off, her legs trembled like those of a newborn fawn. She looked back only once, unable to believe Ivan could trample her child so mercilessly.
But he, turning away and returning to the throne, seemed utterly devoid of feeling—no guilt, not even the faintest remorse.
“Leave me.”
His cruelty was suffocating. That was the only thought that filled her mind as she was brought to her chambers.
“Your Holiness—”
“I want to be alone. Get out, please!”
She screamed, startling Louis with a side of her he had never seen. He hesitated, studying her with a troubled expression, then reluctantly obeyed. Alone, Amelia staggered to the table near the window and sat down.
The blood-red sunset spilled across the table, distorting her vision. Amelia closed her eyes, panting. The shock she had yet to recover from once again ripped through her chest.
How could he do that? He had never once doubted the boy was his son. How could he, before all those people, condemn him as an unworthy, lowborn creature unfit to be part of the imperial family…?
The moment his words had scorned both her and Iaan, she had felt the ground drop away beneath her feet. The last shred of hope she had for him had been crushed completely.
“In the end, even Iaan…”
Her child’s life, too, was wretched. All she wanted for him was a life where simply being alive was enough—a life of ordinary peace.
Not one where his own father denied and abandoned him.
“Ah…”
Her chest felt tight, as if she had been struck. She was on the verge of tears, but this was not a place where she could show them.
She clutched at her breast with all her strength. The fabric of her clothes creased under her grip, holding the marks of violence like the shredded remains of her heart, torn apart by Ivan’s blade.
But when she recalled his mocking face, the strength left her hands. Amelia buried her face in them. Her life felt cursed; her faith, pitiful.
“Your Majesty. You cannot just—!”
Though she was a guest here, the chamber was hers. Yet the door burst open without so much as her permission. Amelia lifted her head to glare at the intruder. At the end of her gaze stood a man with the cold, unyielding face of a yaksha.
“Everyone out.”
Ivan’s command rang with imperious finality. Louis opened his mouth to object, but the words stuck in his throat. Ivan possessed all the arrogance of an absolute ruler—and this was his palace. Neither Amelia nor Louis could oppose him.
“It’s fine. Wait outside, Louis.”
Keeping her eyes on Ivan, Amelia gave the order. Louis hesitated, then said he would be at the door and to call him if anything happened.
“Sorry, but that won’t be necessary.”
Ivan smirked, his gaze fixed on Amelia.
“I plan to make sure not even a rat gets in or out of here.”
The moment his words fell, the maids gasped in shock. Royal guards appeared out of nowhere, seizing the maids and Louis and dragging them away. The second floor was left empty but for Amelia and Ivan.
“……”
Once the quiet settled, Ivan walked toward her, face expressionless. He seemed calm—like someone who grew colder the angrier he became. But Amelia saw the way his chest rose and fell; he was furious and made no effort to hide it.
“What were you thinking?”
He stopped two steps away, the last light of sunset brushing his face—a mingling of navy and red, at once hot and cold.
