After the Ill-Fated Relationship Had Ended

A meal for the imperial couple was laid not in the audience hall nor the reception room, but in the Emperor’s bedchamber.

Ignoring the attendants’ intention to serve as many dishes as possible, Licht dismissed everyone the moment wine and glasses were set on the table, everyone except Diana.

Diana tried to appear composed.

In the past, Licht had often ordered everyone out so that only the two of them remained. Of course, the reason now was different.

After the rebellion, Diana’s condition had been dire. Especially after losing the child, seizure-like episodes had followed, making even conversation between the couple precarious.

To keep her fragility from being exposed to the attendants, Licht had always commanded that they be left alone.

“I heard the weather near Yvon was bad.”

She recalled that it had rained heavily along the border where Licht had gone.

Was that right? It must be.

Even as she spoke, Diana grew tense, watching his reaction.

But the reply that came from Licht, seated across from her, was unexpectedly indifferent.

“Was it? I suppose it might have been.”

Diana hesitated, unsure how to read his response.

Though Licht had arrived sooner than she remembered—turning their meeting from night to day—the place where they drank wine was the same. That time, too, they had been alone in the bedchamber.

Come to think of it, back then, Licht had pounced on her almost immediately, leaving no room for anything resembling conversation.

“Have you been well?”

He asked while staring straight through her.

Even when she averted her gaze under the pressure, Licht’s eyes did not waver.

“Thanks to Your Majesty.”

As she gave a polite answer, he examined her expression closely—as if judging the truth of her words.

Had Licht always looked at her like this?

Pressed by his presence, Diana unconsciously leaned back slightly.

At once, Licht reached across the table.

When Diana accepted his hand without resistance, he pulled her toward him.

With practiced ease, Licht lifted her from her chair and seated her on his lap.

By the time Diana realized what was happening, it was already too late.

He buried his face deeply at the nape of her neck.

Diana began calmly trying to remove the hand already wrapped around her waist.

“…Your Majesty.”

“Yes.”

“You should eat.”

“I know.”

Behind her, she could feel Licht’s solid chest and thighs.

She drew a slow breath.

His familiar scent, mixed with sweat, brushed against her senses. Diana knew well how frighteningly intoxicating that embrace could be.

“This is strange. You seem unusually cautious.”

“……”

Struck at the core, Diana tried to spring up from his lap.

But just as her foot pushed off the floor, Licht pulled her back.

She lost her balance and ended up fully in his arms.

“Don’t you like it?”

If she said no, he would let her go.

Yet Diana could not shake her head.

Instead, she said something else.

“You returned early, pushing yourself.”

“I did. I had to.”

Answering readily, Licht buried his face at her neck again, breathing in the scent of her skin.

Suddenly, this behavior felt as persistent as his gaze—almost as though he were confirming something, repeating it deliberately.

“Your Majesty… did something happen while you were away?”

“Not anymore. It’s resolved.”

At any other time, Diana would have asked what he had pushed himself to resolve.

But Licht’s hand slid beneath the heavy folds of her dress, moving along her calf, stealing her attention.

The cold air against her lower body and his unrefined touch made Diana twist.

His hand grew more overt.

She squeezed her eyes shut, writhing.

This was the moment she needed to say no.

Judging by the timing of when their child had come to her, it had been between now and before the rebellion.

Nothing had happened yet…but even so, Diana had to be careful.

“…Your Majesty.”

She drew her legs tightly together and pushed against his chest.

That alone conveyed her intent clearly.

The large hand stopped at once.

Licht’s eyes narrowed.

Feeling the unmistakable presence pressing beneath her, Diana spoke firmly.

“For the time being, intimacy will be difficult.”

In the silence that fell instantly, Diana bit her lip.

But she forced herself to be resolute, meeting his gaze as if she had every reason to say so.

Licht, his brow furrowing, slowly parted his lips.

“Are you already with child?”

“…No.”

“Then why?”

“……”

“I hear the Empress wished for a private audience with me as well.”

It seemed Licht had already been told of Diana’s request to arrange a separate meal with him.

“That’s not what I meant by that—!”

Diana tried once more to slip out of his arms, but Licht held her tightly, as if the thought were absurd.

His long breath brushed against her hair.

“You won’t share a body with me, and now you won’t even let me hold you? That’s rather cruel.”

“…Only for a while. I’ve grown weak, that’s all.”

“Weak?”

It was a lie she’d invented on the spot, yet Licht reacted sharply.

He cupped Diana’s cheek and turned her face toward him. Only then did it occur to her, her slender frame had grown even more pronounced, enough to lend plausibility to her words.

Ever since returning to this point in time, Diana had barely eaten.

“I think it’s because the environment changed so much after the imperial marriage. I’ll adjust soon.”

She layered lie upon lie with practiced ease.

None of it was welcome to Licht.

“Let’s eat first. Afterward, you should be examined.”

“Yes.”

Only then was Diana able to return to her seat across from him.

They continued the meal in silence.

More precisely, she ate—while Licht watched.

At first, she pretended not to notice his gaze, assuming he would look away soon.

But whenever she glanced up, he was still watching her, drinking his wine.

She had been under his gaze countless times before, but this felt different.

Licht seemed to be looking at her with emotions too complex to name.

“Does the food not suit your taste?”

In the end, Diana asked indirectly why he was only watching her.

Instead of answering, Licht poured a pale golden wine into his empty glass, then lifted it toward hers, which sat untouched.

Clink.

A clear sound rang as the glasses met.

It was already his third glass. His thick throat moved as he swallowed.

“Empress. Diana.”

Licht called her name.

‘Diana!’

She remembered the time he had rasped her name as if scraping his throat raw. His voice now was nothing like it had been then.

Low and deep, his words flowed on.

“Go on. Tell me what you want. If it isn’t me, then there must be something you want from me.”

He shrugged, as if inviting her to say anything at all.

So that was why he had been watching her so closely.

Only then did Diana reach for her glass.

The wine slid sweetly down her throat, though its aftertaste was bitter.

She let the sensation linger, choosing her words.

Her initial reason for requesting a private audience had been to prevent Wilhelm from crossing paths with Licht.

But now she had no time to waste.

There was only one month left until Licht’s birthday banquet, the night of the abduction.

Diana began thinking in earnest.

‘I have to separate Enoch and Wilhelm.’

Saying it outright would only earn her suspicious looks. She didn’t know when the two had begun conspiring, but they had to be pulled apart.

Enoch, unable to possess private troops, had relied on Wilhelm.

Wilhelm—the young duke—had hired mercenaries with the power of House Schuettmann and even mobilized its knights.

There was no way Duke Henry hadn’t known.

And she herself had died by Henry’s hand.

She had to expose the corruption of the family.

All misfortune had begun, and ended, with the Schuettmanns.

‘I’d be lying if I said I never doubted whether the child you carried was mine. But so what? The one who wanted that child to be mine more than anyone else was me. Me!’

She vividly remembered Licht shouting, veins bulging at his neck.

‘You’d do well to abandon the idea that I’ll ever let you go.’

Even as he glared at her with terrifying intensity, those green eyes had been filled with fear—not murderous intent.

She did not want to put that man through torment again because of her.

More than anything, the rebellion had been his brother’s.

Diana knew how deeply Licht had suffered after beheading Enoch with his own hands.

What Diana wanted to protect in this life was Licht, and the child who had yet to come.

If possible, Enoch as well.

And above all.

She never wanted to die again by the hand of a man called father.

Having finished her calculations, Diana set down her wineglass.

“Your Majesty. I want the territory of Greenvale.”