From that day on, Elizabeth was unable to see Burkhardt.
She pleaded with the knights several times to let her meet him, but each time they replied like parrots that he was busy.
Was he avoiding her on purpose?
She almost wished their words were true—that he really was just busy.

To keep herself from getting hurt, Elizabeth decided to pretend not to notice his feelings, even though they were plain to see.

“Your Majesty the Empress, we have arrived in the Clemens Empire.”

At Colin’s words, Elizabeth realized she had finally set foot in Clemens.
Perhaps it was because Burkhardt’s words and attitude had shocked her so deeply, but she had been so lost in thoughts of him during the journey that she hadn’t even noticed how they arrived.

“…I see. When will I be able to see His Majesty again?”
“I can’t give you a definite answer. For now, let me show you to your chambers.”

Ever since leaving the County of Orte, everyone had addressed Elizabeth as the Empress.
But each time she heard the title, it pained her.
She wasn’t sure she could bear to watch the day when another woman would take the seat beside Burkhardt as his true Empress.

Ah… perhaps she should be grateful just to be near him at all.
Yet all she felt was confusion and misery.

Suppressing her emotions, Elizabeth followed Colin toward the room where she would be staying.
And the moment she arrived, she was forced to face the reality once again—that Burkhardt did not trust her.

“This room… is it really mine?”

The place she was confined in was an inner chamber within the splendid palace.
Inside, the door had no handle—she couldn’t leave of her own will.

A beautiful bird trapped in a gilded cage.
That was what Burkhardt was saying to her, indirectly.
Don’t even dream of escaping.
No one but his own people would be allowed to come into contact with her.

There was no need to go this far—she had no intention of running away.

Elizabeth was still reeling from her situation when—

Knock, knock.

Someone rapped on the door.
She thought it might be Burkhardt coming to see her, but the person who entered was a neatly dressed woman.

Closing the door softly behind her, the woman carried herself with a quiet elegance that Elizabeth couldn’t look away from.
Completely overwhelmed by her presence, Elizabeth simply watched in silence until Colin, who had escorted the woman, left the room.

Now, only the two of them remained.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am the head lady‑in‑waiting of the Imperial Palace, and the wife of Colin, who just left. You may call me Marianne, or Mrs. Fors.”
“The head lady‑in‑waiting? Why would the head lady‑in‑waiting…”

Elizabeth stopped mid‑sentence, her expression hardening.
So, he didn’t trust her enough to leave her without a close aide.

“Until a personal lady‑in‑waiting is chosen, I will be attending to you exclusively, Your Majesty. If you experience any inconvenience in your daily life, please give me your orders.”

Marianne spoke politely, but like Colin, her expression was impassive—drawing a clear line to keep Elizabeth at a distance.

Still, Elizabeth was in no position to criticize their attitude.
Since Burkhardt believed she had betrayed him, it was only natural that those who had served him closely for years would find her presence unwelcome.

“I see. For now… I’d like to rest.”
“I will prepare a bath and massage to ease your fatigue.”

For a moment, Elizabeth was at a loss for words—was she not even free to be alone?
It was only when she heard Marianne instruct the maids outside to heat the bathwater that she came back to herself.

Being at the mercy of Burkhardt was already more than enough; she had no desire to be treated like a puppet in the hands of his attendants as well.

“I just… want to be alone.”

Her voice was squeezed out, almost reluctant.
Marianne hesitated for a moment, then nodded in understanding and left.

The sound of the latch clicking into place was followed by a deep, suffocating silence—like Elizabeth’s bleak and uncertain future.

***

“You’ve left food again today. If this continues, it will be a problem, Your Majesty.”

Emotionless eyes, a voice without rise or fall.
She had simply left food because she had no appetite, yet as always, Marianne pressed her about it.
She was a person Elizabeth could never grow close to.

If Marianne had felt even a trace of pity for her, perhaps things might have been different.
But even as she watched Elizabeth being kept like livestock, she showed no reaction at all—her attitude was one of pure vigilance, nothing more.

It was no wonder she had become one of Burkhardt’s closest aides.

Elizabeth had no intention of giving her any pretext to use against her, but neither did she intend to move according to their wishes.

Rising from her seat, Elizabeth answered Marianne coldly.

“I’ve always eaten little, so there’s no need to fuss.”
“It is by His Majesty’s order.”
“If he has business with me, tell him to come himself. He locks me away in this little room and still expects so much.”

The days without seeing Burkhardt grew longer.
With him refusing her requests for an audience, Elizabeth was forced to live in a constant state of unease.

Sometimes she wondered if the Burkhardt she had seen—and this entire situation—was nothing but a dream.
Even knowing she was buried under an irreparable misunderstanding, even expecting that he would hurl harsh accusations at her, she felt that seeing him alive would ease her anxiety.

So Elizabeth chose indirect ways to provoke him into meeting her.
For example, eating even less than before.
Dropping the polite honorifics when speaking to his closest aides and addressing them curtly.
Calling him by his pet name without formality, unlike in the beginning.

She had expected at least some sign of displeasure, but Marianne had maintained the same indifferent attitude she’d shown since the day they met.

“Then I’ll have the meal cleared away. If you need anything, please give the order.”
“I want to see Burkhardt. Let me meet him. Please.”
“Today, His Majesty’s aide, Duke Giovanni, will be visiting. You should prepare yourself.”
“I don’t want to see anyone else. Why are visits being arranged without my consent? What about my opinion?”
“…I’ll make the preparations.”

Was it that she found the question too difficult to answer?
Marianne was usually willing enough to respond within the limits of what she could say, but if anything even slightly touched on a sensitive point, she would avoid answering—just as she was doing now.

“I don’t have anything suitable to wear for receiving a guest. All my outdoor clothes were left at the Count of Orte’s estate. Even the clothes I arrived in were thrown away after I changed into indoor wear. So tell Duke Giovanni to visit another time.”

Elizabeth had no desire to meet Duke Giovanni, and was glad to have found a convenient excuse.
But perhaps it was too soon to feel relieved.

As if Elizabeth’s words weren’t worth replying to, Marianne immediately brought in a rack laden with dresses.

“Since you were concerned about appropriate attire, I have prepared these.”
“Where did these dresses come from…?”
“If the variety makes it difficult to choose, I can recommend one for you.”

Marianne spoke only what she wished to say, ignoring Elizabeth’s question entirely.
Had she offered even a brief explanation about the sudden appearance of the dresses, Elizabeth might not have cared.
But her deliberate change of subject only piqued Elizabeth’s curiosity.

Could it be that these dresses belonged to someone else?
Elizabeth wasn’t always confident in her intuition—but this time, she felt certain she was right.

None of the dresses fit her at all.

“They’re far too loose—I don’t think I can wear them.”
“It may be uncomfortable, but I suggest you drape this shawl over your shoulders.”

Marianne placed a deep navy shawl—reminiscent of the night sky—around her.
The dress and shawl were beautiful to look at, but once they were on Elizabeth, everything felt awkward and ill‑matched.
It was as if to say that neither the Clemens Empire nor Burkhardt suited her.

There were so many ways to make a person feel wretched.
Whether this was all part of Burkhardt’s careful planning, or a subtle mockery devised by his closest aides, she decided to accept it without protest.

Letting out a sigh, Elizabeth straightened her posture and waited for Duke Giovanni.
All the while, she turned over in her mind how she might return this insult to Burkhardt’s aide—and use it to bring Burkhardt before her.

If it meant seeing him, Elizabeth was prepared to do anything.

Even if it meant my own heart would be wounded because of it.

***

Duke Giovanni arrived when the room was bathed in a crimson glow.
Since no exact time had been given, Elizabeth had been forced to wait for him a long while in her uncomfortable attire.
It was yet another reminder of her position.

Even so, she tried to remain composed rather than show her discomfort.
Would she seem awkward playing the part of an arrogant noble?
Though she had lived as a countess, she had never truly been a noblewoman, so her concern was not unfounded.

Hiding her unease, Elizabeth greeted Duke Giovanni.

“Welcome, Duke. Surely you’re not going to scold me for speaking informally? You kept me waiting all day without treating me as an empress yourself.”

She took a sip of tea that had long since gone cold and waited for his reaction.
Would he grow angry?
Or would he, like Marianne, fall silent and stick only to his prepared lines?

Whichever choice he made, Elizabeth intended it as a subtle declaration of war.
Go and tell Burkhardt—

Tell him how rude the woman he seated as empress can be.

Even if it meant he would come himself just to upend her composure, at least she would see his face.

But contrary to her expectations, Duke Giovanni deflected with practiced ease.

Suddenly, a certain figure from the County of Orte came to mind—someone who had left a strong impression.

“Ah, you were the one who advised Burkhardt.”
“Aren’t you being far too insolent? This is Clemens. At the very least, you should make a show of showing respect to His Majesty…”

Clink.

Elizabeth set her teacup down with a deliberate noise, cutting Geraldine off mid‑sentence.
It was a decidedly rude gesture—one that might cause him to lose his composure and raise his voice.
That was exactly what she wanted.
If she could provoke Burkhardt’s aides like this, perhaps he would appear before her.

A brief silence fell between them.
Choosing her words, Elizabeth gave a faint smile and spoke.

“Show respect… Ha. Have you forgotten that I’m here as Burkhardt’s mistress? Or is it that you simply don’t want to admit it? You know full well he brought me here himself. The one being insolent here is you, Duke.”

From the moment Burkhardt stopped visiting, Elizabeth had been the weaker party.
No one knew that better than she did—but for now, her focus was solely on provoking Geraldine.
Go on, she thought. Run to Burkhardt and tell him how brazen I’ve been.

But Geraldine, unmoved by her defiance, quietly recited her reality—as if delivering a death sentence.

“How foolish you are. Your Majesty need only be skilled at warming His Majesty’s bed. If you aspire to anything beyond the place of a mistress, your life will be a hard one.”