ATIRPBT

CHAPTER 49

“This is all because of you, sister.”

The tea cup she once made for me carried nothing but despair. Inside was a poison of hopelessness, steady and deep.

When I last saw Evgeni, she stood over me, tears in her eyes, voice trembling with regret:

“This is all because of you! Why do you always take what Evgeni treasures? Why? Why did it have to be you—her sister? The wizard too! The young duke—why do they care more for shy, gloomy you than bright, lovable Evgeni!”

She stamped the ground in frustration, and I clutched my chest as the air caught in my throat. I’d forgotten how intense the pain was before I turned back in time.

It was stronger than any poison I had willingly swallowed… a living death that constricted my lungs, my body, my very life‑line.

Evgeni had sobbed:

“If sister dies… then Evgeni will comfort them. The wizard… and also… the young Duke Richard too…”

I gasped awake. The breath pent up in me burst forth in ragged pants. My hand tightened on the blankets as I stared, startled, at the unfamiliar ceiling and sheets.

This wasn’t my palace room. It was far more grand, the ceiling gilded with embroidery reserved for only the highest noble chambers.

Before I could think further, a cold voice greeted me:

“You’re awake.”

“Emperor…”

I scrambled upright. On his desk were piles of documents, and he looked down at me from over his glasses—stern, formidable.

“Until you are fully recovered, you are forbidden from leaving this room. Return to bed at once.”

“S‑Your chamber…”

“Lie down.”

I wavered, swayed—fear prickling at me—then obeyed, lying back under the silken covers. The Emperor adjusted his glasses, looking displeased but slightly softened.

Uncertainly, I asked:

“How long… was I asleep?”

“Four days.”

“Four days?”

“It was like you had fainted. Pascal (your appointed palace physician) said that whatever poison you took must have been potent—maybe compounded by malnutrition. He also commented that perhaps the new head cook’s meals didn’t suit you.”

“No… not at all. Bandi’s cooking is first-rate.” My only distrust was borne of the increasing number of poisoning attempts—not because of the food itself.

Silently, I nodded to myself: I never even properly nourished myself these past days. Too busy exchanging letters with Orca Sorcier, tracking his progress, losing sleep.

Suddenly the Emperor set down his pen, rose, and I instinctively thought he was going out for fresh air.

I resolved to summon Pascal, to check if any message had come from Sorcier, and find out if Ilia could bring me word.

I barely had time to think—until I saw the Emperor approaching me again. My heart raced at the sight of him taking the chair by my bedside:

“I used to nurse you at this hour.”

“N‑Nurse me? That’s the palace physicians’ duty…”

“God forbid someone else tries something to you. Better that I’m here.”

He glanced at me coolly. I closed my mouth and lowered my head, sweat beading at my spine under his steady gaze.

“You refused Pascal’s report on your behalf. Did you rebel, thinking you deserved no one watching over you?”

I stammered:

“I… I didn’t want to trouble Your Majesty. I only wanted to not burden you anymore.”

He looked at me, expression stern.

“Why see that as a burden? It’s the Emperor’s place to watch over his daughter.”

“But you were injured… because of me.”

He paused, then glanced at the white-gloved hand that hid the bandages on mine. A bitter smile touched his lips.

“Now you’re worrying about me?”

“I know I’m weaker than you, Your Majesty. But I don’t wish to see you make reckless decisions for my sake.”

He gave a small scoff.

“What could you do? All you did was drink poison knowingly.”

He knows everything. His perception was unnerving.

“You caused a scene in that public meeting. The Empress and Baron Riverdell are likely in retreat—for now. But how long?

I replied:

“I meant to confess when the time came. I still withheld it.”

“I wish you had said so sooner. I have ability, and you have the right to ask help of me.”

His words stung. I lifted my gaze, brow furrowed.

“So I’m only useful now because you need me?”

“Pardon?”

“At the breakfast hall, it was my changed presence that drew your attention. If I hadn’t changed… would you have helped me?”

“…Perhaps…”

“Lies.”

If that was true, why did he ignore the assassination attempts on me at fifteen? He stood with his back turned as I looked for him.

“So now I’m just a tool to you.”

“Princess.”

I exhaled.

“…I will try harder.”

“….”

“I will erase the traits you disapproved of. I will no longer forbid Pascal’s reports. But when needed, I will ask him to withhold again. Is that acceptable?”

He paused, then said:

“Do as you wish.”

“Thank you, Highness. Please take your rest.”

He remained silent as he left the room, and I sank back onto the bed.

“What am I supposed to do now…”

He would not even look at me when I begged for it.

Yet his concern stirred my heart anew.

Maybe, for once, I could stand equal to Evgeni.

“You make one hope, like a cruel father…”

I whispered, pulling the blankets to cover my head.

Two weeks passed.

After repeated failures, the Empress’s assassination attempts grew more insidious.

A maid disguised assassin followed me on walks. Poison was slipped into my tea and cake. Thanks to Checil, Ilia, and Mullin, I escaped unscathed each time.

Checil clenched her teeth watching a poisoned cup, hissing:

“Will you still remain silent? If the Emperor finds out, he’ll be furious.”

“He doesn’t treat me as his daughter.”

“Why do you assume that?”

“To him, I’m just a political tool. I’d rather not stir his attention.”

Checil clenched her fists behind her back, tension taut in her frame.

“But if that tool gets severely damaged, everything changes.”

“I won’t put you in jeopardy.”

“Then let me report to His Majesty. Your safety depends on it.”

“That request is uncomfortable, too.”

Savoring my tea, I turned to her:

“What were the results of the assignment?”