The sun was still beating down, hot and unrelenting.

As they passed the spire that housed the underground prison, lush gardens stretched endlessly to the left and right, bathed in fresh, bright light.

The carriage sped towards the palace rising in the distance.

The fresh, moist scent of summer filled Freya’s senses more and more with each passing moment.

And then the grand entrance of the Imperial Palace appeared, standing tall in all its majestic glory.

Freya was immediately escorted to the Emperor’s reception room on the first floor.

The interior of the palace was so lavishly decorated that it seemed to want to steal the soul of everyone who entered it.

The long corridor walls were lined with beautiful murals and decorated with gold ornaments.

From the ceiling of the reception room hung a magnificent chandelier, each of its facets sparkling with diamonds, sapphires, rubies and other precious gems, casting a dazzling light across the room.

In the kingdom of Havern, gems were relatively common. It wasn’t unusual to see them not only in the homes of royalty and nobility, but even in the homes of commoners.

But there were no gem mines on the mainland of the Karl Empire.

Which meant that these countless jewels had almost certainly been looted from the colonies trampled under the Empire’s heel.

Freya quickly looked away.

“If you’d be kind enough to wait while you drink your tea, His Majesty the Emperor will be with you shortly.”

The maid who brought the tea seemed to be one of the Emperor’s personal servants.

And yet… there was something uneasy in her expression that Freya couldn’t quite place.

Only then did Freya realise how out of place she looked in such a lavish setting.

She hadn’t had the presence of mind to think about it before. But now it hit her – she hadn’t bathed or changed her clothes for a long time.

She hadn’t eaten properly, hadn’t drunk anything decent, hadn’t even slept.

To be honest, she was so exhausted that it wouldn’t have been surprising if she had collapsed on the spot.

“His Majesty will take tea now.”

It seemed the Emperor had arrived.

“That’s enough. You may leave now.”

The Emperor waved off the maid, who had offered to bring a fresh pot, and walked over and sat down opposite Freya.

“You’ve met me before… haven’t you?”

The unexpected question stunned Freya for a moment.

She looked at the emperor in silent surprise.

“Of course. Back in the kingdom…”

“You remember what happened in the kingdom?”

“It was the day I lost my country and put down my crown with my own hands… How could I forget?”

At her words, the Emperor’s gaze instantly turned cold.

The atmosphere chilled in an instant, and as Freya bit her lip in the heavy silence, his icy voice rang in her ears.

“You really… remember nothing.”

It was a statement she couldn’t begin to understand.

‘Had I met the Emperor before that day?’

No matter how hard she tried to remember, there were no other memories of him in her mind.

What she did remember was as vivid as if it had happened only yesterday.

She remembered the menacing figure of the Emperor leading the soldiers as they stormed into the palace.

She remembered the chaos, the terrible screams coming from every corner.

She remembered his cruel eyes as he watched her plead for mercy, begging him to stop any further violence.

She remembered his impassive gaze as she put down the crown with trembling hands.

She remembered everything, down to the last detail.

What else should she remember?

To Freya, the Emperor’s words were absurd.

“Has there been a meeting between us that I’ve forgotten?”

“Enough.”

The Emperor shook his head as if to brush off a meaningless remark, though for some reason a faint grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

“You said your wish was to become Empress of the Empire.”

Freya’s lips twisted slightly at the mockery in his tone.

“I only said that because… I didn’t think you’d ever grant it anyway.”

“What was that?”

“That’s all there is to it. It’s not like I really wanted to be Empress.”

Just as she began to regret those words, wondering if they had been spoken in a moment of emotion, the Emperor – whose expression had briefly darkened – spoke again in a detached tone.

“In any case, it seems the goddess has decided to spare your life.”

Freya could barely hold back a bitter laugh.

The Emperor couldn’t even begin to imagine how many times she had already died.

And besides…

‘What on earth was the goddess Imona thinking?

It was strange enough that she had suddenly ordered the invasion of the very kingdom protected by her own sister.

But this oracle – that the fallen queen could only survive if she sought union with the Emperor – was beyond comprehension.

‘Why would the goddess Imona give such an oracle?’

‘Could it be… that the endless cycle of death she had suffered was all the goddess’s doing?’

The sudden suspicion sparked a surge of uncontrollable rage within her.

“So what – you’re saying I should say a prayer of thanks to the goddess Imona?”

Her sarcastic, biting reply seemed to provoke the Emperor. His eyes flashed sharply, glowing a fierce blue.

“Are you not afraid?”

A low chuckle followed.

“You must be truly fearless.”

She had momentarily forgotten.

‘They called him a merciless killer.’

She had heard much of the Emperor. Rumour had it that his cruelty far exceeded that of the former Emperor.

Perhaps the only reason the kingdom hadn’t suffered more damage… was because she had given up the crown so quickly.

“You must learn the customs of this place.”

The slight tilt of his jaw was so sharp it looked like it could cut.

“Customs?”

“The Empress of the Empire is expected to speak to the Emperor with due respect and formality. I have never had an Empress speak to me as you do.”

He was already speaking as if Freya were an Empress, casually discussing Imperial etiquette.

Stunned by his assumption, Freya said nothing – and this silence was met with a tone of subtle mockery from the Emperor.

“Do not tell me that your philandering husband was disrespectful to you – even as his queen?”

The Emperor, unaware of the truth, could not have been more wrong.

Even when they were alone – yes, even in bed – Aaron had always treated her with the utmost respect.

“Aaron, please, when it’s just the two of us…”

“It’s just my nature to be consistent.”

“Please, just once…”

“Your Majesty, do you prefer people who aren’t consistent?”

Aaron had always been like that.

Whether during his days as Captain of the Royal Guard or after he became Royal Consort, he never changed.

Always attentive, always proper, always treating Freya with unwavering respect.

So why… why did he do what he did?

‘To Aaron, was I nothing more than his Queen—nothing less, nothing more?’

Come to think of it, she had never once heard him say he loved her.

‘Why did I never realize that before?’

The realization struck her like a blow to the head.

She had believed that his gentle words, his affectionate actions, and the sincerity in his eyes were all signs of love.
She had thought he would look only at her, for the rest of their lives.

‘Foolish… how foolish I was.’

“Are you seriously thinking about your cheating ex-husband in front of me?”

His voice, low and tense as if holding back anger, pierced her ears as he lifted her chin roughly.

“Hngh-let me go…”

She didn’t even know when he’d approached, but now the Emperor was standing right in front of her, his cold eyes fixed on hers.

The grip on her chin didn’t hurt much, but the closeness – so close that their breath could mix – was suffocating.

Finally, the Emperor let her go, his lips curling into a cruel smile.

“I intend to find your husband… and kill him myself.”

Aaron… Was he still alive?

Since being taken to the Kingdom of Karl, Freya had heard nothing of the fate of the prisoners held in the palace’s underground dungeons.

Even someone as strong as Aaron couldn’t have lasted long down there.

If, by chance, he had been captured by the enemy instead – perhaps he had escaped and was now in hiding, clinging to life.

“Why would you…?”

Seeing the sudden pallor wash over her face, the Emperor smirked, almost mockingly.

“Why? Are you seriously asking me that?”

“…”

“He was once your husband.”

“……”

“I can’t very well allow the ex-husband of the future Empress to remain alive.”

“…!”

At last, Freya began to understand the Emperor’s true intentions.

A man so devout that he would even accept a marriage he didn’t want if it was the will of the Empire’s guardian goddess – but at the same time, a man who would never tolerate anything in a woman’s past that might tarnish the Empire’s image.

But even so… could he really be okay with this?

“Are you really… okay with this?”

The sudden question made the Emperor furrow his brow, as if to ask what she meant.

“I mean… don’t you want to make someone you chose the Empress?”

At her words, the Emperor grinned, one corner of his mouth curving into a crooked smile.

“It is the will of the Goddess. I have no choice but to obey.”

Then, in a tone that suggested it didn’t really matter, he added.

“If I wish, I can keep a woman at my side, whether she is Empress or not. So there’s no need to worry about me.”

As he finished, his expression changed subtly.

The woman sitting across from him – her beautiful face was bruised and battered.

The skin exposed between her soiled clothes was red, as if burned.

The scratches on her arms and legs were clearly from being tied up.

Then the Emperor’s voice dropped to a low murmur.

“You… must rest for now. And be treated as well.”

The violet eyes that had glared at him in displeasure twitched slightly, startled by his unexpected words.

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