chapter 47
The red flame burning at the end of the cigar trembled uneasily in the Emperor’s grip. It looked as if it might lunge straight for someone’s eyes at any moment.
“…That’s quite an amusing story.”
It seemed Duke Lloyd had used his name to manipulate Viscount Hoffman. The Emperor had heard the tale from Duke Lloyd himself when the man entered the palace late last night, but he didn’t blame his closest aide.
Chhhk.
The cigar ground into the crystal ashtray, sending up a wisp of white smoke.
“I thought so as well. You’re not the kind of man who would so much as glance at filth, much less take interest in something so vulgar.”
“Vulgar?”
“The sketchbook Viscount Hoffman possessed contained things far too filthy and obscene for Your Majesty to be associated with.”
“I didn’t know the Grand Duke was so well acquainted with my tastes.”
Once the red flame vanished completely, Mateo set the cigar aside and shrugged. It wasn’t so much that his pet dog knew his preferences inside and out—it was that the man dared to speak of his tastes as he pleased, and that unsettled him.
“If I was rude, forgive me, Your Majesty.”
Looking down at the slightly bowed head, the Emperor’s face was flushed red. His hands trembled as he suppressed the urge to hurl the ashtray right at the man’s face.
This was a seat he had made for himself. Unlike the firstborn, who had been granted every blessing simply by virtue of birth, Prince Mateo had always been pushed aside. And the third son, born out of wedlock, had still won the Emperor’s favor with his exceptional talents. In that environment, Mateo had been utterly invisible.
If not for the death of the Crown Prince, he wouldn’t have dared even to dream of this throne. But the shadow the late Crown Prince left was deep, and Mateo had to erase it with every ounce of his strength.
So he had grown adept at hiding his desires.
But the moment he saw Eliana, all the urges and wants he had long suppressed exploded.
What had been a mere whim to possess her quickly turned into desperate longing.
If not for Empress Rozella’s schemes, Mateo’s interest in Eliana might never have grown beyond curiosity.
But the instant he saw Eliana holding Greddy’s hand, Mateo lost control completely. He couldn’t bear the thought of someone beneath him possessing what he wanted.
“You’re still as insolent as ever. After all that beating, to remain the same—well, I suppose that’s a skill in itself.”
At the Emperor’s sneer, Greddy clenched his fist slightly. He was sick of the way the Emperor paraded his violence before him as if it were natural.
Greddy’s black eyes gleamed coldly.
“I remember when you used to wag your tail like a dog before my brother, acting as if you owned the world. Just like some mongrel brought in off the streets—shamelessly living in the Imperial Palace despite being the son of a lowly concubine.”
“……”
“You wagged your tail and panted without the slightest shred of shame—just like you do now, don’t you?”
“……”
“You, who didn’t know your place, clung to the Empress’s skirts and dared to interfere in my marriage—love? You call that love? I’ve never believed you truly gave up on Rozella, Greddy.”
The Emperor bent down and whispered in a low, dangerous voice. His sharp smile curled as he stared at Greddy’s averted profile.
Mateo straightened up. He seemed quite satisfied with the way Greddy’s face had gone rigid.
“…She chose Your Majesty.”
“Unlike Rozella’s choice, you never bothered to hide your shameless affection—not until every citizen of the Empire knew exactly how you felt about the Empress.”
The Emperor’s long finger jabbed at Greddy’s chest, over and over. Each time, Greddy, seated on the sofa, rocked backward.
It was an obviously humiliating sight, but Greddy let his body go slack and endured the jabs.
If he resisted here, other people around him would get hurt. He had seen enough innocent people suffer because of him to grit his teeth and bear this.
“……”
“Go ahead—keep testing me. I’m curious myself to see just how far I might go.”
Leaving the silent Greddy behind, Emperor Mateo rose from his seat. He had given his warning; now it was up to the obedient dog to mind himself.
As he strode toward the office door, Mateo suddenly stopped and turned back. His eyes fixed on Greddy’s fist, clenched on his knee as if he meant to crush it.
“Didn’t you hear anything else from Viscount Hoffman?”
Greddy lifted his head. The Emperor’s dry lips licked as impatience flashed across his face.
“…No, I did not.”
“I see.”
Once the Emperor left the office, Greddy too stood up—there was no reason to remain. As he left, his gaze lingered long on the Imperial seal resting on the Emperor’s desk.
“Why would the Grand Duke’s head maid want to see me?”
Before The Red Winter, Rozella sipped her tea with a leisurely air, tilting her head in puzzlement.
She had been on close terms with the Grand Duke’s head maid, personally selecting and placing the woman in the Grand Duchy.
But aside from that, she was someone Rozella knew better than to get too close to. And the head maid knew that, too.
“Claire.”
The young woman reading beside her looked up at Rozella’s call.
“Yes, Your Majesty the Empress?”
“You should go meet her. I don’t want to give the Grand Duchess any reason to misunderstand.”
Rozella turned her head and sighed softly, as if genuinely concerned about the relationship between the Grand Duke and Duchess.
If that’s how you feel, you shouldn’t have accepted the painting in the first place.
Claire silently mocked her in her head as she rose from her seat, The Red Winter still open in Rozella’s hands.
“I’m curious what the Grand Duke sent this time that made the head maid come in person.”
As she watched Claire’s skirt sway while walking away, Rozella pressed a hand to her forehead.
Since receiving the marriage proposal from the Kingdom, Claire’s attitude had changed overnight. She was pressuring Rozella, acting as though she might accept the proposal and leave at any moment.
From Rozella’s perspective—who had been using Greddy as leverage to control Claire and her family—this was troubling.
The March family’s spending had been ballooning like a burst spring. The Marquis lorded over the gambling dens like a king, but without Rozella, he’d have been finished by debt collectors long ago.
The Marchioness was no different—carrying on affairs with young men under the guise of patronage, and drowning in pleasure and luxury.
But it’s fine. Everything will be fine.
Rozella looked with satisfaction at The Red Winter, cupping the warm teacup in her palms. The fragrant aroma and comforting heat filled her tea time. And she had even heard news that morning of a quarrel between the Grand Duke and Duchess. Truly a delightful start to the day.
But Rozella’s happiness that morning went no further.
It began innocuously enough. Unlike when she left, Claire returned wearing a faint smile, and promptly dismissed every maid in the reception room.
“What is this about?”
Rozella’s face soured as she spoke once the last maid shut the door. She disliked how Claire had dismissed the maids without even asking her permission.
“The head maid has been thrown out of the Grand Duchy.”
Claire sat down on the sofa, biting her lip as though to keep from laughing. Rozella had to take a moment to register what she’d just heard.
“…Thrown out? Emma?”
“Yes. It doesn’t seem she was beaten, but judging by her face, there must have been some physical scuffle.”
Claire lifted her head, a tiny tear at the corner of her slightly upturned eyes—from holding back her laughter.
“The Grand Duchess apparently appointed a mere servant who can’t even read to be head maid. Pfft!”
Her voice trailed off into a laugh she could no longer contain. Claire clutched her stomach, bending over in mirth. She wiped away the tears at her eyes and bit her lips again, but once it started, the laughter wouldn’t stop.
“That’s ridiculous.”
The teacup in Rozella’s hand trembled.
To Rozella, the Grand Duchy of Cryber was like an endless wellspring of riches. Only Greddy Cryber’s wealth had been keeping up with the Marquis’s gambling debts and the Marchioness’s extravagance.
And the person who made all that possible was Emma.
“I never imagined that harlot would dare to cut off the Empress’s limbs. She must have quite the backbone.”
Claire, who knew all of Rozella’s deepest secrets, shook her shoulders in mirth.
Rozella, on the other hand, felt her mind go blank at the sudden news about Emma.
Just yesterday, she had received The Red Winter from Greddy as a gift. Yet before the morning was over, she was hearing of Emma’s dismissal—it made her dizzy.
“Where is Emma?”
Because she valued appearances, Rozella had avoided meeting with Emma openly. But now she was desperate to find her.
“Anticipating that, I had her wait in the next room. Shall I bring her in?”
“No. I’ll go myself.”
Rozella shot to her feet. Claire quickly rose as well, hurrying after her, her steps light with the eagerness of not wanting to miss such a juicy spectacle.
