Chapter 24
I was startled and pushed Damien away with both hands.
But this time, he didn’t budge so easily.
My heart went cold as if doused with ice water.
Who just came in?
This lounge was supposed to be accessible only to Damien and me.
It was located far enough away that no noble would dare wander here by accident.
Who on earth would enter the Crown Prince’s room without even knocking?
Damien gripped my shoulders tightly and continued to kiss me. His lips left trails on the corners of my mouth, my upper lip—biting softly at the lower one before drawing back again.
Horribly enough, even as this happened, the presence by the door didn’t disappear.
“Da…mien…!”
When our lips finally parted for a brief moment, I called his name. Only then did he straighten up again.
Disordered breaths spilled between us. Damien’s eyes, looking down at me, were dark as night.
But now, there was no warmth in them—none of the affection from moments before.
What is this?
Fear prickled through me as I failed to grasp the situation. He gently patted my shoulder—a small gesture, one only we could sense.
Then Damien, still staring at me, spoke.
“Who is it?”
“His Majesty sent me.”
A polite woman’s voice answered. I turned my head slightly toward the door.
A maid in formal attire stood stiffly by the entrance, eyes lowered, her gaze void of any light.
“For what reason?” Damien asked.
“His Majesty instructed me to make sure that Her Highness was not uncomfortable in any way.”
A convincing excuse, but still absurd. No mere maid could just barge in without knocking.
I looked back at Damien. This time, I could read his expression clearly—disgust.
Still leaning toward me, Damien said as if the maid didn’t even exist,
“I’ll check later. Leave us.”
But the maid didn’t move.
“I cannot.”
Instead, she took a few steps into the room. Then she asked Damien,
“Have you finished?”
I instantly understood what she meant, and heat rushed to my face.
At the same time, it dawned on me why Damien had been so persistent in kissing me.
He knew someone would come.
The Emperor wanted to confirm our relationship without warning.
Yet he acted so indifferent when we first met…
At the maid’s question, Damien gave a sharp, humorless laugh.
“If I said I haven’t, would you leave?”
“No, Your Highness. I merely wanted to confirm that you are aware this is the lounge.”
“I’m well aware,” Damien snapped, his voice low and biting.
The heat that had churned through my chest moments ago was gone, replaced by the simmering anger in his eyes. The maid, however, remained unflinching.
“Then may I have a moment of your time? His Majesty has a question for Her Highness. It is an imperial command.”
Damien closed his eyes for a moment as if restraining himself. Then he opened them again, placed a light hand on my shoulder, and immediately withdrew it.
“If anything happens, call me.”
“…Yes.”
I replied blankly.
Damien stood, turning toward the maid. She, now smiling faintly, carried herself with such poise that an outsider might have mistaken her for the one of higher rank.
“When you’re done, summon me again,” Damien said before leaving the lounge.
The door closed behind him, and the maid asked pleasantly, as though nothing had happened,
“Is there any discomfort, Your Highness?”
That day, the maid only asked trivial questions.
She didn’t do anything useful—didn’t help my sore foot, didn’t even offer me water like Damien had.
She didn’t help me change into comfortable clothes, either.
Her true purpose was painfully obvious.
And that wasn’t the end of it.
Days like that kept repeating after I entered the imperial palace.
At least I didn’t have to worry about our “marital life,” but the constant surveillance was anything but pleasant.
It wasn’t just the maid from our wedding day.
Since Damien and I had separate bedrooms and he was often busy, we only met occasionally.
Even then, servants would burst in repeatedly, interrupting us mid-conversation without hesitation.
Once, I finally asked Damien in a whisper,
“Is it always like this?”
“Yes.”
He murmured back just as quietly—perhaps because a maid was dusting nearby, pretending to be busy.
It felt uncanny to discuss something so serious while keeping calm expressions.
As we whispered, the maid subtly edged closer to us.
Who ever dusts right next to their master like that?
They weren’t even pretending to hide it anymore—it was absurd.
I couldn’t even bring myself to sip from the teacup in front of me, feeling uneasy under such scrutiny.
This is… surveillance, plain and simple.
At least they didn’t intrude when I was alone.
That much I could be grateful for—it proved they weren’t watching me, but Damien.
Not that I was entirely free either.
As expected, everything I brought into the palace was searched.
They claimed it was to ensure there were “no items threatening the safety of the imperial household.”
But they didn’t even bother to hide that they suspected me.
The inspections were excessively thorough.
Each time I was interrogated about the smallest thing, I nearly forgot I was once a noble’s daughter.
Anything remotely suspicious was confiscated for a week.
Thankfully, my letter knife was spared.
I’m glad my diary is with Mikhail.
If I had brought it, it would’ve been seized immediately as a suspicious item—and Damien would’ve found out about it.
Once Mikhail gives me that magic device, the diary will be even safer.
No one would suspect that an empty envelope holds a journal inside.
Still, I had to be careful not to throw away even empty envelopes.
These servants would easily enter unattended rooms and dispose of anything they deemed unnecessary.
The power they held was absurd.
I didn’t feel like a crown princess at all—more like a doll locked in a display case.
Perhaps that’s why Father disapproved of this marriage so much.
As the leader of the Emperor’s faction, he must’ve known all about this situation.
Damien and I continued our meaningless conversation, careful under the maid’s constant gaze.
“When autumn comes, the royal garden will be full of red leaves,” I said lightly.
“That would be a good time for a walk,” he replied smoothly. “There’s a pergola in the center where you can enjoy dessert while admiring the view.”
“That sounds nice! I’ll have to think ahead about what to eat.”
We talked about weather, seasonal fruit, and desserts—mundane chatter until finally, the maid moved elsewhere.
I let out a small sigh.
Damien, timing it so she wouldn’t hear, spoke up.
“The days are growing colder.”
“They are. But tell me… are these people always this rude?”
I couldn’t hold back the irritation in my voice. For the first time that day, Damien actually smiled.
“They usually are.”
“Even though you’re the Crown Prince?”
“They serve His Majesty. Do you think they fear me?”
His voice was dry and detached.
I said nothing more, just stared at my teacup.
The red surface reflected the ornate golden ceiling above us.
The room was breathtakingly beautiful, yet my heart felt heavy and trapped.
This wasn’t mere interference—it was control.
There was no other heir besides Damien, so why did the Emperor fear him so much?
Perhaps because he’d once taken the throne by force… he suspected his son might do the same someday.
I had thought I’d be the one imprisoned after marriage—but it wasn’t Damien who caged me.
My head ached. I sighed again.
“Damien.”
“Yes?”
“Would it be possible for me to see Theo?”
He turned his gaze toward me. I fidgeted with the rim of my teacup.
“I can’t go out, but maybe I could invite a guest. He’s family, after all. It’s been so long since I saw him.”
Theo hadn’t attended the reception—because Estelle, a commoner, wasn’t allowed to.
We were working to grant Estelle noble status, but even for my father, a duke, that wasn’t easy.
For some reason, Uncle’s negotiations are also stalled, I thought.
Even my open-minded uncle seemed reluctant to adopt Estelle as his foster daughter.
In the end, Estelle would likely never be officially registered.
In both the diary and the novel, she remained a commoner until the moment she was sent away.
In that story, Theo fought even harder on the land of death because of it.
