Chapter 15
Lia’s worries were matched only by Cartian’s own tangled thoughts.
Several times a day, he wanted to go to her, even if only to offer an explanation. Even if she would not believe him, even if the future was uncertain.
At the very least, he wanted her to know that he truly loved her at that moment. That he had no intention of hurting her.
Yet he could not bring himself to do it.
He feared the cold words she might utter, even in response to his most earnest pleas.
If she spoke coldly again, he didn’t know what he might become.
And yet—he longed to see her all the same.
She might be content with him not visiting, but he was not.
Hundreds of times a day, thoughts of her swirled through his mind.
At times, he allowed himself a brief, aching fantasy: days spent happily with her, smiling together. Even imagining such moments filled him with a joy that felt as if he could fly.
But just as quickly, the fantasy ended—and he was left staggering in overwhelming helplessness.
Why wouldn’t she trust him?
Why had he acted as he did before losing his memory?
During the time he had not seen her, Cartian investigated his own past actions.
What he learned filled him with despair.
The circumstances surrounding her were far worse than he had imagined, and he felt shame.
Instead of comforting her through it all, he had caused her even greater pain.
And now, it was too late to undo it.
She gave him no shred of her feelings—no hint, no opening.
Whenever he thought he saw a slight crack in her wall, she would rebuild it, brick by brick.
The wall was impenetrable, and there was nothing he could do.
And everything else interfered.
His position, his allies.
No one encouraged him, no one supported his connection with her.
When he refrained from seeking her out, people were pleased.
Finally, they said, the Emperor was regaining his senses.
But it was not that at all.
He was simply too burdened with guilt and regret to face her.
Thinking back, perhaps his past behavior had been understandable.
Even if he could not understand it now, at that time, he already had someone he loved. But opposing nobles made it impossible to take her as his Empress.
The head of the noble faction, Duke Ceronian, offered that if Cartian married his daughter as Empress, he could help make her a concubine. He had accepted the offer.
Already in love with another woman, he was forced to marry a woman he had no interest in as Empress. The resentment was inevitable.
And the woman was the daughter of Duke Ceronian—someone he despised.
Then, as Empress, she committed countless acts of cruelty in the palace. She tormented Freya, the woman he truly loved, scorned him, and tormented everyone in the palace.
It was natural that his feelings would worsen.
Yet… if only he had treated her with even a little kindness, perhaps she would not have acted so cruelly.
At least, the Lia before him now was not someone to act that way without reason.
If he had not kept his distance, if he had paid her attention even slightly, perhaps she would have acted differently—and perhaps he would have grown to love her even then.
Then none of this would have happened. He would not be suffering over a fragment of her feelings, longing and aching.
It was all his fault. And now, there was no undoing it.
Even now, Lia faced the hostility of the palace alone.
Thinking of her, he wanted to see her, to offer even a small comfort—but he could not.
He was not yet ready. Not ready to withstand her words, not ready to endure her sharpness.
It was then that the door opened, and someone Cartian knew entered.
“The light of the Empire, the noble brilliance—His Majesty, the Emperor.”
Yusian Keian. The current Prime Minister of the Empire and a close friend of the Emperor.
At first, Cartian did not remember him. But through Baron, he learned that Yusian had been a companion since childhood.
Yet that meant nothing to Cartian.
He remembered nothing of Yusian, and what memory he had was not good.
After all, the incident at the dinner with Lia had been caused entirely by Yusian’s words.
“What is it this time?”
Cartian’s tone was cold as he addressed the kneeling Yusian, not even instructing him to rise.
“Hmm… it’s about a wound?”
“A wound?”
Cartian let out a scoff.
Who was wounded by whom, anyway?
The wound was his—caused by Yusian’s words, and directed at him from Lia.
“Still, after twenty years together, even losing memory doesn’t explain such a drastic change.”
Yusian exaggerated, feigning hurt.
“And… what do you expect me to say?”
“No, there’s nothing I need to say. But if you were offended by the other day’s events, I apologize. It’s my fault.”
“Your fault, yes. But it wasn’t that my feelings were hurt. It was simply that your words were inappropriate.”
Cartian’s irritation grew at Yusian’s self-centeredness, oblivious to how Lia might have felt.
“I also apologize.”
Yusian’s politeness drew only a scoff from Cartian.
“Are you truly sorry to Lia?”
Here was the flaw. Yusian apologized, but he did not seem to care for Lia at all. His tone was polite, but she was absent from it entirely.
“Yes. I shall also apologize to Her Majesty the Empress.”
“Then the apology should be to Lia, not me.”
“I shall visit Her Majesty to apologize soon.”
Yusian agreed without resistance, which only angered Cartian further.
He could pretend to be sorry without truly being so.
“Fine. It seems not genuine anyway.”
A hollow apology only annoyed him.
Yusian frowned at Cartian’s remark.
“What is it?”
Cartian read Yusian’s expression.
“It reminded me of what Her Majesty said last time. She said something similar, I think.”
“Of course.”
Lia was clever; she would surely recognize insincerity in Yusian, just as Cartian did.
“Do you truly care for the Empress?”
Yusian asked cautiously, looking at Cartian.
“Do I need to answer you?”
“Still, we were close not long ago, right?”
Yusian forced a playful smile.
“Yes, only until then. You are no longer a close friend to me.”
He was closer to an enemy now. Yusian was showing hostility toward the Empress Cartian cherished.
That was all that mattered. Cartian’s gaze was cold and lethal.
“Amazing. Losing memory and changing so much.”
Yusian muttered, feigning sympathy.
“If you have nothing to say, leave. I do not wish to see your face.”
Whatever their past, it no longer mattered. Cartian distinguished the past from the present.
He wanted her affection, even if memories were lost.
“I have something to report.”
“And what might that be?”
Cartian’s trust in Yusian had bottomed out.
To him now, Yusian was not a friend—he was unreliable.
“As you know, there are talks among the nobles regarding His Majesty. To show the Emperor’s strength, it would be good to hold a ball soon, so the nobles may see His Majesty’s presence.”
“Hold the ball, yes. But if you try anything toward Lia during it, be prepared.”
Cartian’s tone was deadly. He would not tolerate it, friend or minister.
“Ha ha. When did I ever do anything to Her Majesty?”
Yusian feigned nonchalance, even at Cartian’s sharp words.
“We’ll see, won’t we?”
Even if Yusian did nothing, his words at the dinner had been deliberately pointed, aimed at someone.
Cartian could not predict what Yusian might say or do next.
Especially knowing Yusian’s feelings toward the Empress were not good.
Feeling the growing sharpness in Cartian’s gaze, Yusian shrugged helplessly and left the office.
Cartian paused, considering briefly, then rose as if summoned by a task, ready to move on.
