4.

Her father left the day after the royal wedding. Jeanne finally cried. Though the Emperor was gentle, that didn’t mean it was okay to part with her father.

Jeanne sniffled, afraid to watch her father get into the carriage. More precisely, she was afraid to watch the carriage carrying her father disappear.

When Jeanne said she was afraid to watch her father’s carriage disappear, Cesare held her tightly. Jeanne tried to hold back her sniffles. She had heard from her father that his steps would be heavy if she cried.

“The imperial palace is so big…… I saw empty rooms earlier……”

Jeanne wanted to ask Cesare if her father couldn’t live with them since the house was so big. But Cesare seemed to know what she wanted to say just by watching her stumbling lips.

“Father has his own duties. There are things he can only do at his home.”

He gently comforted his young wife. Jeanne bowed her head deeply and tried not to let her tears fall. Cesare no longer told her to stop crying. Instead, he let her embrace her father deeply before holding her again.

Father whispered that he loved her countless times. From when they arrived at the palace until now. As if making up for her mother who couldn’t attend, he whispered his love dozens more times. Jeanne, who had never responded to those whispers of love, opened her lips for the first time.

“I love you too, Dad.” 

 Jeanne’s quarters were a small room attached to the Emperor’s palace. Though called small, it was incomparably grand and splendid compared to a noble’s mansion. The room, larger and more luxurious than her room at home, was efficiently prepared with a small salon and dressing room.

Jeanne stared blankly at the salon where she could enjoy refreshments around a white piano before heading to the bedroom. Ladies-in-waiting moved whenever she moved. They were noblewomen named Beatrice and Louisa, said to be a year or two older than Jeanne’s mother.

Though not mature enough to have ladies-in-waiting and limited to the role of governesses, they were women who each had their own duties.

“Jeanne, the bedroom is this way.”

Beatrice, who had been following behind, carefully grabbed Jeanne’s shoulders. Her steps, unconsciously heading toward the Emperor’s bedroom, stopped. Since entering the palace, Jeanne had always slept with the Emperor. Every evening, the Emperor made her happy by playing with dolls or reading fairy tales.

When her father was staying at the palace, she said she wanted to sleep with him, but the Emperor didn’t allow it. He said he would make her happy every night, so she should stay with him. Suddenly, she remembered her father’s face as he heard those words.

It had instantly contorted, on the verge of shouting in anger. The Emperor smiled obliquely at him. Only Jeanne was confused, blinking her eyes, but fortunately, Beatrice who was beside them whispered, ‘His Majesty ordered to prepare small dolls for playing.’

And only then did her father regain his composure. Anyway, the Emperor made her happy every night. She loved the various princess dolls in colorful dresses and the soldier dolls.

But what truly captured Jeanne’s heart was the puppy-shaped cloth doll the Emperor made for her. The puppy doll, which Jeanne named ‘Willie,’ was the mate to her most precious doll, ‘Cici,’ made by her mother. Jeanne loved these two dolls.

But now she can’t play happily with Cesare every night.

“Because Jeanne is still a baby. When you become an adult, you can share a blanket with His Majesty.”

Though they were like ‘husband and wife’ even when she was just his fiancée, now they were truly married in a royal wedding. Though Jeanne was still young, she knew what it meant to be the Emperor’s companion.

She couldn’t live with her parents, had to wear heavy jewels, wear dresses more splendid than Antonia’s, and wake up early every morning to study.

And now she can’t play with her husband. There were so many things to cry about, but not crying was also something the Emperor’s companion had to do. Though not an Empress……

Jeanne didn’t know why she wasn’t an Empress. That was adults’ business, and she could only follow. Still, it was okay. At that time…… she thought it didn’t matter what she was. If becoming an Empress meant being in a place more difficult than this, she hated that.

All Jeanne wanted was to live with her parents and play fun games with Cesare. But now she couldn’t even play happily with Cesare.

“Jeanne.”

Beatrice bent her knees to meet the eyes of the sniffling Jeanne. Jeanne lowered her head to hide her tears.

The emerald earrings hanging from her ears were too heavy. She hadn’t gotten used to the green dress that dragged on the floor. It had too many ruffles and tassels, and the sleeve puffs were uncharacteristically large for a young girl.

“Raise your head.”

Beatrice withdrew her hand from Jeanne’s shoulder. The girl before her wasn’t an Empress. Though the Empress Dowager had decreed her treatment should be ‘equivalent to an Empress,’ there had never been an Emperor in the Empire who married a ‘slave.’

She reminded herself that the beautiful girl before her was a slave. Though she was beautiful enough to appear in fairy tales, she was merely Count Spetunia’s house slave. So the Emperor too had taken a slave as his companion.

Perhaps someday in the distant future, her status might be restored. That had been the case for all Emperors who had imprinted on an Eve who happened to be a ‘slave.’ However, that only happened in their children’s generation. Riscarlo had stricter laws regarding status than neighboring countries.

Therefore, ‘marriage’ alone couldn’t free one from their status, and even if their treatment improved significantly, their innate status often remained unchanged. Moreover, even in cases where an Emperor imprinted on an Eve who was actually a slave, it was far from marriage in the sense that the Emperor owned her.

It was possession, not union. Could that be called husband and wife? Perhaps such consciousness stemmed from the poor treatment of Eves since ancient times. Then as now, Eves were seen as objects of possession rather than union.

Beatrice took out a handkerchief and wiped the girl’s tears. She was as cute as acorns rolling down the corridor when she walked. It was heartbreaking to see her just feeling down about not being able to play with her husband, not knowing what difficulties she faced. Even so, the palace laws were strict.

“Does your earlobe still hurt?”

She looked at the red earlobes. The earrings were too large for a young girl. She immediately removed both earrings and handed them to the maid, then undid her hair that was styled too maturely for a child. Then she took her hand.

Touching the body of imperial family members was forbidden, but strictly speaking, she was a slave receiving treatment ‘equivalent to’ imperial family. So it should be fine. Even the Empress Dowager, who would scowl at her son’s wife, couldn’t do anything about it. 

 * * *

 Nights in the palace were deep and cool. Jeanne couldn’t sleep. Beatrice had told her to think many good thoughts. She said darkness wouldn’t be scary if she only thought happy thoughts.

But no matter how many good thoughts she had, her fear didn’t subside. Rather, sadness just washed over her.

Finally alone, Jeanne started sniffling after 30 minutes. Good thoughts meant thinking about Mom and Dad. How gentle her father had been to her. When father put his arms under her armpits and spun her around, it felt like the world was hers.

“Hu, hic…… Dad. Dad……”

Tossing and turning while holding Cici, Jeanne suddenly started sniffling. She thought of Cesare.

Beatrice had said she couldn’t share a room with Cesare anymore. That it wasn’t proper for a young lady…… Jeanne didn’t care either way. The darkness, the scary and sad memories hurt her.

Suddenly she felt strength leaving her lower body. Jeanne trembled and lifted her blanket. The blanket was wet. She seemed to have had an accident.

“Uu, hic hic……”

Jeanne burst into tears. But no one came to check on her. Before, maid Lana had been in the next room and would come running immediately if anything happened to her. But in the palace…… Jeanne broke into a cold sweat, chewing her lips nervously before finally getting up.

“Brother……”

Dragging her blanket and holding Cici in one arm, she knocked on Cesare’s door. The firmly closed door opened. Cesare looked down at his wife who was red-faced and sniffling. She was a complete mess, seemingly having broken into a cold sweat.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

Cesare asked. Jeanne shook her head no. Cesare’s gaze fell on the blanket hidden behind her back. Jeanne whimpered before bursting into tears with a ‘pwueng–’ sound.

“Little chick.”

Cesare picked her up. Jeanne buried her face in his chest. As she trembled while holding back her sobs, his large hand patted her back.

“Shh—”

A breath touched her ear. Cesare brought her to the bedroom. In the dressing room’s wardrobe was her silk pajamas. It was an adorable outfit with frills on the sleeves and neckline.

Cesare put Jeanne down and undressed her nightgown. He had wanted to call a maid, but if Jeanne had come to him not wanting this discovered, he had to handle it himself. The body of the girl who hadn’t yet reached puberty was as thin as a stick.