Burkhardt’s permission for an audience had finally been granted.

The moment she stood before the Emperor’s office, Elizabeth’s fingertips trembled with unease.

Her joy at receiving the summons had been fleeting—quickly replaced by the fear that he might change his mind, claim he had never called for her, and mock her for it.

She stood at the door, hands clasped tightly together, when Marien spoke in a tone that urged her forward.

“Your Majesty the Empress.”

“Just… just a moment.”

Elizabeth turned away from Marien, letting her thoughts drift back over what had happened.

Even after Geraldine’s visit, she had asked many times to see Burkhardt, but Marien had met her pleas with cold silence—no doubt because Burkhardt himself had not wished it.

Perhaps her longing had surfaced unconsciously. She had even dreamed of him coming to her chambers, but he never came.

And so, the endless, uncertain waiting had withered her day by day—until Marien brought word that permission for an audience had been granted.

She had asked again, unable to believe it.

Even now, standing in front of Burkhardt’s office, it felt like a dream.

Perhaps—just perhaps—a miracle might happen, and he would welcome her.

To steady her trembling heart, Elizabeth closed her eyes.

Creak—

She wasn’t ready yet, but the sound of the office door opening rang clear in her ears.

Even with her eyes shut, she knew exactly who it was.

How could she not recognize the footsteps of the one she had longed and waited for so desperately?

He had come to meet her.

Yet, contrary to her hopes, Elizabeth could not bring herself to open her eyes.

Burkhardt was radiating such an oppressive presence that it felt hard to breathe—

as though he were pushing her away.

The thought that he was not glad to see her brought a pang of sadness,

and yet, within the undercurrent of resentment, she caught the faintest trace of tenderness.

She clung to that, letting herself hope—

perhaps he still held some affection for her.

Perhaps she only wanted to deceive herself into believing it.

It might be nothing but an illusion, and yet… why was it so easy to hope?

“Have you been so short on sleep that you can stand there with your eyes closed?”

At the sound of his voice, Elizabeth slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him.

The backlight hid his expression,

but she could feel his emotions.

Was it sadness? But why?

The sight of him, even in anger, seemed so painful that she felt her composure slipping away.

“Why aren’t you saying anything? For someone who came looking for me, your reaction is awfully subdued, don’t you think?”

“…I didn’t expect you to come meet me.”

Elizabeth hesitated before finally speaking.

Burkhardt would already know this was an excuse.

But even hinting that she had guessed his thoughts might provoke him,

and so, she could not bring herself to reveal her true feelings.

Had she learned that lesson before?

She knew all too well that the moment she allowed herself even a sliver of hope, he would mercilessly ready a sharp blade and aim it straight at her heart.

Swallowing hard, Elizabeth waited for whatever words might come from his lips.

Burkhardt, for his part, seemed to have no intention of probing into her thoughts, and instead accepted her excuse-like remark.

“I just came out because I was curious who was loitering at the door. I didn’t expect it to be you.”

A lie.

Just as Elizabeth could recognize the sound of Burkhardt’s footsteps, he must have known she was there.

That was why he had come to meet her.

Even setting the past aside, he had accepted her request for an audience—there was no way he didn’t know.

At his teasing words, she merely nodded as if to say, I see.

Was there some other reaction he had been hoping for?

This time, he said nothing, simply gazing at her in silence.

Elizabeth tilted her head, wondering.

Perhaps if her eyes adjusted a little more, she would be able to read his expression…

She narrowed her eyes, just about to study his face more closely.

“Come in.”

urkhardt spoke the words curtly, then stepped into his office.
Elizabeth followed in quick, small steps, her eyes wandering over her surroundings.

The scene inside came into view: bookshelves crammed with volumes worn from much reading, stacks of documents piled high on the desk like small mountains.
With no paintings or plants to soften the space, the room felt dry, almost desolate.
The only corner that seemed to offer a breath of relief was the large window looking out onto the garden.

How much effort must he have poured into becoming Emperor, living in such a stark place…

“Burke.”

Elizabeth had just begun to speak when her gaze met Geraldine’s, seated on the sofa with a disapproving expression.
At that same moment, Burkhardt’s steps came to an abrupt halt.

Caught off guard by his sudden stop, Elizabeth bumped her nose into his solid back.

If you’d like, I can also give you a more cinematic rewrite in English that heightens the contrast between the cold, austere office and the charged human interactions within it. Would you like me to do that?

“Ah!”

“Stay so close and you’re bound to bump into me in an unseemly way.”

Of all moments, to be scolded in front of Geraldine.

Perhaps it was because of the uncomfortable first impression she’d had of him last time,

but Elizabeth found herself both envious and resentful of Geraldine—

the man Burkhardt trusted most these days.

The way he seemed absorbed in his own work, showing no interest in her, was almost irritating.

Perhaps Burkhardt had noticed her gaze lingering on the duke,

for his teasing voice cut in.

“So you came here to see the duke, not me? You’ll bore a hole right through his face at this rate.”

“Burke, that’s not it…”

“The one you should be looking at is me, not the duke.”

Burkhardt took hold of Elizabeth’s chin, fixing her face toward him—

as if to say, look at me directly.

In the bright light of the office, his face was clearly visible.

He looked far more gaunt than the last time she had seen him.

The dark shadows beneath his eyes stood in stark contrast to his skin,

lending his presence an even more decadent air.

She felt a pang of guilt for having doubted his claims of being busy,

for having nursed resentment in those days apart.

As Elizabeth studied him, she realized his gaze was fixed entirely on her.

Beneath the fine, fluttering fringe of golden lashes,

she saw the pale green eyes that had made her heart race since childhood.

They still held the warmth of sunlight.

Elizabeth stared at him blankly, as if her mind had gone empty, before unconsciously reaching out a hand toward him.

“What exactly are you trying to do?”

She had only touched his face out of a sudden pang of pity—
but Burkhardt slapped her hand away with a sharp smack, as though it were something unclean.

Why?

At a loss for words, Elizabeth simply looked at him in stunned silence.
Burkhardt raked his fingers roughly through his hair, then, with a frown, pointed toward a corner of the room and spoke in an irritable tone.

“What are you doing? Planning to stand there the whole time I’m working?”

“You’re working—how could I sit here comfortably?”

“You say that to my face, but behind my back you’ll be whining to be allowed to see me again. Are you here to interrupt my work? Well, I suppose you wouldn’t keep asking to meet if you truly respected the Emperor’s position.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get in the way of your work.”

Elizabeth sat down on the edge of the sofa where Geraldine had been earlier, glancing toward Burkhardt.

Part of her hoped he might spare her even the smallest glance—
but he kept his eyes fixed entirely on the documents before him, not giving her a shred of attention.

When had he come to embody the role of Emperor so completely?
They say a person is at their most striking when wholly absorbed in their work.

Watching him calmly read through the papers, eyes steady, Elizabeth felt her heart quicken at this unfamiliar side of him.
The occasional movement of his throat as he swallowed.
The taut veins standing out on his forearms where his sleeves had been carelessly rolled up.
It was more than enough to make her heart stir again.

She committed the sight of him working to memory.
With his mercurial moods, she never knew when she might be sent away—
so she had to take in as much as she could while she had the chance.
When the ache of missing him became too much, she wanted to be able to summon this image at will.

Had he noticed her stealing glances?
Burkhardt’s voice broke the silence.

“While I’ve been working hard, I’ve received several reports about you.”

It must have been Marien who submitted it.
Even though she had expected as much, the realization still hurt—
all those requests had reached Burke, and yet he had not granted them.

And yet, perhaps she was losing her mind, because in some twisted way,
she felt relieved simply to know she still occupied his attention, even like this.

“I didn’t look closely. I only half-listened to Geraldine chattering beside me.”
“…I see.”
“Do you know why I didn’t read it? Because I wasn’t curious. That’s exactly how much you mean to me.”

Her fingertips trembled.
It was almost laughable, the way she had deluded herself into thinking his attention was on her.
Even if she went mad, Burke wouldn’t care.
She worried tears might spill, but her tear ducts felt dry—thankfully.

“What’s with your meal portions? Bird feed? Even a bird wouldn’t eat that little.”
“Burke, I’ve always had a small appetite.”
“I’ve lived with you for years—do you expect me to believe that?”
“Living with the count, my appetite shrank. I…”

…was trying to die.

But the moment her eyes met Burkhardt’s, Elizabeth couldn’t bring herself to say the word.
To admit not only that she had tried to die, but how, right in front of him—
it was unthinkable.

She chose to close her mouth instead.
There was nothing more painful than seeing Burkhardt blame himself.

“Beth, that look again? I don’t like the way you’re staring at me—like a cat watching a mouse.”
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Don’t you have work to do? I won’t get in the way, so go on.”
“You’ve already gotten in the way. Protesting to the people I assigned to help you, pestering a man at work to meet with you…”

“It wasn’t intentional. I know you’ve been truly busy, so I’ll restrain myself from now on.”

Apparently, that wasn’t the answer he wanted.

Burkhardt stepped in close, trapping Elizabeth between the sofas as he spoke.

“There’s no need to waste highly skilled personnel just to keep an eye on you. From now on, you’ll report to my office.”

“You said I was a distraction.”

She couldn’t make sense of it.

If he was so busy, she had planned to stay quietly in her room—yet he didn’t want that either.

How was she supposed to match his rhythm?

“If you can sit quietly while I work, I’ll allow you to take a walk in the afternoon for as long as you’ve endured.”

What had prompted him to grant her permission to leave the building?

Having been confined to one space for so long, she had felt stifled, so his words sounded almost sweet.

She hadn’t intended to ask for anything more than the chance to keep his image in her heart.

“Thank you.”

The words slipped out, sincere and unplanned, but Burkhardt remained cold.

“No need to thank me. If I leave you as you are, I feel like you’ll die before my anger even cools.”

“What?”

“Go back for now. Come to my office at the same time every day. If you don’t need the walk…”

“I do. I’ve been feeling truly suffocated.”

Elizabeth smiled brightly, genuinely.
Burkhardt, who had been ready to lash out again, forgot his retort and simply stared at her face in a daze.