14. Beatrice (1)

When the Emperor notified her that he would spend the night here, Larael would bathe in a tub filled with the fragrant oil of the Trabella flower, which he liked, and then put on a negligee that revealed the silhouette of her body. She would sit on the sofa and wait for him.  

Not once had he ever arrived early at the promised time. He always came just as Larael was about to fall asleep, leaning against the sofa. When she heard the sound of the door opening, Larael would force her sleepy eyes open, avoid looking at Edward, and immediately go to the bed, lying down quietly.  

When Edward’s body overlapped hers, she would only hope for it to end quickly, consciously suppressing any sound. If an involuntary sound threatened to escape through her teeth, she would bite the inside of her cheek to hold it back.  

Larael stared at the wide bed with an empty gaze.  

“What a wretched woman I was… truly…”  

“Your Highness, the royal physician and the high priest have arrived. If you are resting, I can ask them to wait a moment.”  

“No, it’s fine. Let them in now.”  

Larael rose from her seat. Following the head maid, the royal physician and the high priest, who had been waiting outside the bedroom, entered.  

Though they claimed they were there to check if she was unwell, Larael knew their true purpose lay elsewhere. Knowing what the results would be, she completed the examination without any tension.  

—  

Marquis Argen was known to be completely at the mercy of his wife. Beatrice, the Marchioness of Argen, shouted his name loudly when he returned home and couldn’t look her straight in the eye or gave nonsensical answers to her questions.  

“Jayden Argen! What’s going on? Why can’t you look me in the eye? What did you do wrong?”  

Jayden let out a long sigh, recalling how Beatrice had recently harshly criticized Larael Hedway.  

“You know that Her Highness the Empress Consort entered the palace today, don’t you?”  

“Her Highness the Empress Consort, huh.”  

Beatrice snorted, her eyes flashing fiercely.  

“And?”  

“Her Highness wishes to have a tea party with you.”  

“What??? Is she out of her mind? Absolutely not! If you agreed to it, you’re dead!”  

“Sorry. It was an order from His Majesty.”  

Jayden clasped his hands together and begged in front of Beatrice. Beatrice let out a shriek. The person she despised the most these days was none other than Larael.  

“Can I go to my family’s estate for some rest? That would be a good excuse, wouldn’t it? Why me, though? You didn’t tell her what I said about her, did you?”  

What she had said was a conspiracy theory claiming that Grand Duke Vellaus and Larael had plotted together to deceive His Majesty the Emperor. She had insisted that Larael becoming consort was all part of a plan and had scolded Jayden for being incompetent in failing to prevent it.  

“Beatrice, do you think I would ever repeat what you said? Larael became Empress Consort without any connections in the central aristocracy, having only come to the capital with Grand Duke Vellaus. His Majesty, being closest to me and Duke Nox, specifically asked us for this favor. He didn’t even ask the other aides.”  

“And you’re proud of that? Is that something to brag about?”  

Beatrice crossed her arms, scoffing at Jayden, who seemed proud that the request hadn’t been made to the other aides. Her eyes narrowed.  

“As I thought… there’s definitely some kind of conspiracy going on.”  

Though Beatrice didn’t want to meet Larael, she was curious about her intentions. Larael was currently the most famous woman in the empire, and Beatrice wanted to verify whether the rumors about her were true.  

“Since it’s a special request from His Majesty, I’ll respond to the invitation if it comes. I’m curious about her intentions, after all. By the way, the young lady of the Nox family rarely shows herself. How does she even know about her?”  

Jayden widened his eyes and shrugged, indicating he didn’t know. Beatrice recalled the time she had once seen Larael at the marketplace.  

Larael had been looking at Grand Duke Vellaus with a carefree smile, as if she had nothing in the world to envy. That innocent expression, paired with her smile, had made Beatrice feel defenseless, as if she might let her guard down if Larael greeted her like that. Perhaps even His Majesty had fallen for such a look.  

“Always make sure that the Empress Consort is comfortable and well taken care of.”  

—

Even late at night, the Emperor’s bedroom remained as bright as day due to a magical artifact. Edward was seated at his desk, handling tasks he hadn’t been able to complete during the day. Suddenly, he looked up and spoke to Trix, who was standing beside the desk.  

“Your Majesty, if you plan to visit Her Highness the Empress Consort’s chambers, please let us know in the morning so we can inform Abella Palace and allow Her Highness to prepare.”  

Trix, who had been waiting for an opportunity to speak, quickly seized the moment.  

“Prepare?”  

Edward let out a dry laugh. When he had been a younger boy, he had thought that one day he, too, would experience passionate love. Though he had always pretended not to care, he had been more excited than anyone else when hearing Marquis Argen’s love stories.  

As time passed, the thought of having such a love with someone had grown fainter. Now, the idea of meeting her for the sake of physical intimacy, and the need for preparations for such meetings, left him with a bitter taste.  

“It would be best to share a bed with her as soon as possible. If His Majesty frequently visits the palace, the staff will naturally take better care of Her Highness.”  

“…Inform her that we will have dinner together tomorrow.”  

“Yes, Your Majesty.”  

“Oh, and it seems the Empress Consort likes Trabella flower oil. Send the stock we have here to her.”  

Edward still vividly recalled the image of Larael holding his hand as she stepped down from the carriage.  

It felt as though her scent lingered right beside him. It was a scent he knew well, as it had been his mother’s favorite.  

After his mother had passed away from illness during his childhood, Edward had come to hate the scent of Trabella flowers more than anything. But now, he wanted to smell it again.  

—  

In the morning, an invitation for a tea party was sent to the Argen estate, and at the same time, the Marchioness of Argen sent word that she wished to visit Larael.  

Separate from the tea party invitation, she wanted to meet Larael and formally greet her.  

With a dinner scheduled with the Emperor in the evening, the sudden visit made the day even busier. Larael thought that such an impromptu visit was very typical of Beatrice.  

In truth, Larael didn’t like Beatrice’s straightforward and lively personality and had rarely had warm conversations with her.  

Marquis Argen disliked Larael greatly, and the Marchioness felt the same. Whenever they crossed paths, they exchanged sarcastic remarks or sharp words meant to wound. But now, Larael understood that someone like Beatrice needed to be by her side.  

When Larael was informed that Beatrice was waiting in the drawing room, she went down to meet her.  

“Greetings, Your Highness.”  

Seeing Beatrice’s red hair, Larael barely suppressed a smile, as if she were meeting an old friend.  

Beatrice was known to dislike her red hair. It was said that, as a child, she had spent a fortune on an artifact to change its color.  

“I am Beatrice Argen.”  

Beatrice lifted her bowed head and frowned slightly as she looked at Larael.  

‘Is this really Larael Hedway? She looks completely different from the person I saw a few weeks ago.’  

“You know who I am, so have a seat.”  

Larael gestured for Beatrice to sit on the sofa and took a seat herself. As soon as they sat, refreshments were served.  

“Were you surprised by my sudden request? My parents have returned to their estate, and since I haven’t officially entered society, I don’t know many people. I thought palace life would be too lonely this way, so I asked for help from both of you.”  

“My husband told me. If Your Highness wishes, you could host a banquet and easily build connections. There are many who would love to associate with you.”  

“Rather than such people, I’d prefer to build a connection with you, Marchioness.”  

“Why me?”  

“I heard that His Majesty and Marquis Argen have been close since childhood.”  

“So why does that matter? I apologize if I seem rude.”  

“I want to be someone who can support His Majesty.”  

“What?”