“His Majesty?”

Leaning back against the sofa, Ailie repeated the words in an indifferent, cool tone. Her gaze never left the book in her hands, as though the matter held no interest at all.

While someone else might have been unsettled by the Empress’s reaction, the maid remained composed, calmly repeating what she had just said.

“Yes. His Majesty wishes to dine with Your Majesty this evening.”

Despite her courteous smile, she spoke in a firm and deliberate tone, as though she was not going to back down. Perhaps an unpleasant superior had ordered her to obtain a definitive answer, whatever the cost.

“How unexpected, I thought he was quite busy.”

“He said he would make time.”

“Did he pass along anything else?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

Tap.

Ailie closed the book she had been reading.

‘Dinner…’

It was truly unexpected. Since they had got married, Benate had never come to see her. He had never invited her to a private meeting. This meant that, unless it was a banquet, they had never eaten together.

He had treated her as though she didn’t exist — and yet here he was, inviting her to dinner out of the blue. What was the reason for this sudden change of heart?

‘If it were anyone else, I might have thought it was to properly apologize for yesterday.’

But Benate was hardly the sort of man to care about such things. In fact, it seemed more likely that he had asked her to withdraw his apology from the previous day. Then again, who knew? Perhaps this time he had simply decided to wear a different mask and indulge another whim.

“…All right. Tell him I will attend.”

In any case, she had no intention of refusing the invitation, even if she ended up leaving early because she disliked the event. Avoiding it altogether would make it seem as though she were shrinking back for no reason, even though she hadn’t done anything wrong.

Benate was at fault. Not her.

Once the maid had received her answer and left the room, another maid arrived shortly afterwards. She was someone Ailie had never seen before and was probably from another part of the imperial palace.

“I’ve come to deliver something from His Majesty.”

“I see. Who sent it?”

Ailie asked, gesturing for her to come in.

The maid stepped inside and placed a small object on the table. It was wrapped in layers of white cloth, making it impossible to see what it was from a distance. However, no amount of fabric could conceal the gentle, fresh scent of flowers that wafted softly into the air.

Because of that, Ailie immediately knew who it was from.

‘Tomorrow, I’ll bring a lavender pot and show it to you.’

Who else would do something so thoughtful?

“It’s from Sirion Fedroti. He said it was in place of a visit he couldn’t make.”

“……”

“I’ve delivered the item, so I’ll be—”

“Wait.”

Ailie stopped the maid as she turned to leave.

“Please pass along a message to Sirion.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Tell him thank you. And tell him that I’ll manage somehow, so I hope he’ll continue treating me in the future. Make sure he hears that.”

Ailie wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault and that he shouldn’t take it to heart. However, she was worried the maid might misunderstand things she knew nothing about, so she kept quiet. For now, it was enough to thank the maid and promise to return the favor another time.

Once the maid had left, Ailie approached the table and carefully unwrapped the white cloth covering the gift.

The lingering floral scent confirmed her suspicions.

‘It definitely resembles him.’

Inside was a neatly arranged bundle of dried lavender, its soft hue reminiscent of Sirion’s eyes. Whether he had painstakingly chosen only the best-preserved stems, or his touch was simply that precise, not a single petal had been damaged. The bouquet was so immaculate that it almost felt wrong to disturb it.

And that wasn’t all.

He had also sent medicine, including Brenny’s share. Small vials, each labelled in tidy, meticulous handwriting, were placed beside the flowers. His careful consideration was evident at a glance. Preparing all of this must have taken a great deal of time.

As Ailie lifted the lavender, she noticed a single sheet of paper tucked beneath it.

[You may keep it by your side, or brew it into tea. It should help ease Your Majesty’s worries.]

Ailie read the short message over and over again.

“What am I, really…?”

A soft laugh escaped her lips.

She had trusted him simply because he was reliable. Yet she had never imagined that he would go to such lengths and put so much thought and care into it.

‘And someone like this… Benate—’

Ailie carefully wrapped the items back up and rose from her seat.

Now, it was her turn to protect those who stood on her side.

***

Ailie made her way to the dining hall and arrived just in time. She could have come earlier if she had wanted to, but she hadn’t. Benate still hadn’t granted her request, and this was her quiet form of protest. However, arriving late would only invite gossip, so her timing felt deliberate.

Guided by a maid, she entered the room and saw that Benate was already seated. His expression was brazenly blank, as though nothing had happened the day before. Even standing face-to-face with him, she couldn’t guess what had prompted this sudden dinner invitation.

For a long moment, Benaate studied Ailie in silence.

“…You came.”

After a brief pause, he finally spoke.

“After all, this is the first dinner invitation Your Majesty has extended in two years.”

“The first…?”

“Thank you for inviting me, even if it’s late.”

Benate appeared to be about to speak, but then closed his mouth. At that moment, a maid came in to announce that dinner was ready. She placed the soup and wine on the table before quietly leaving the room.

They began their meal in silence.

Ailie chose to wait. If Benate had a legitimate reason for summoning her, he would have to mention it himself.

Though the Emperor and Empress did not exchange a single word as the meal progressed, the servants continued to move efficiently, filling the table with dish after dish. One maid, clearly new, was sweating profusely and her hands were trembling as she worked. This stirred a faint pang of guilt in Ailie; she almost felt inclined to start a conversation to ease the oppressive tension in the room.

‘But today, I don’t intend to give an inch.’

She felt a bit sorry for the girl—and chose to resent the head maid for assigning a novice to tonight’s dinner of all nights.

“Ailie.”

Benate spoke sooner than she expected. She had thought he would draw it out longer.

Ailie lifted her gaze indifferently and replied curtly.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I regret having been indifferent until now. From now on, I’ll make time more often and arrange dinners like this.”

“That’s all right. You don’t need to concern yourself so suddenly.”

His pale blue eyes narrowed slightly. It wasn’t anger so much as irritation—as if things were not unfolding the way he had intended. Ailie glanced at that expression as she lifted her wineglass.

And then—

“The reason I called you here today is to clear up a misunderstanding.”

At last, Benate reached the point.

It was unexpected. A misunderstanding—the phrase didn’t sound pleasant. Was he planning to claim that his verbal ab*se toward Ricciardo and Sirion, and his unreasonable decisions, had all been misunderstandings?

“What misunderstanding would that be?”

“You spoke as though I find the Empress displeasing.”

His answer was completely different to what she had expected.

Was he suggesting that his dislike of her had been a misunderstanding?

Impossible.

If that were true, why hadn’t he ever looked her way throughout their marriage? And why had he allowed Donata Seidler into the Empress’s bedchamber?

It had been two full years — three, if she counted the memories from before her regression. In all that time, Ailie had never been loved. She had never even shared a private dinner with the Emperor.

No matter how busy he might have been, if she had mattered to him, he would not have been so indifferent. Feigning ignorance about Donata did nothing to erase years of neglect.

No matter how he tried to frame it as a misunderstanding, she could not accept it.

“…Isn’t that the case?”

“I don’t know what gave rise to that misunderstanding. But I can swear to you—it is one.”

“Then are you saying that you don’t dislike me? That you’ve never found me displeasing?”

Her voice rose before she could stop herself.

The pale blue eyes fixed on her shimmered faintly. Ailie inhaled slowly, forcing herself to think.

‘Enough. The affair isn’t something to bring up right now.’

Her goal had always been to bring down Benate. It wasn’t about showing him belated affection or storming out of the Imperial Palace after hurling accusations at him.

If she had demanded to know why he had been unfaithful at that moment, she might have ended up experiencing the same fate as before the regression.

So, rather than reopening old wounds, she asked questions that were easier to answer — questions relating to an issue that needed resolving immediately.

“Your Majesty. If that’s truly the case, then why did you act as you did yesterday?”

At her renewed question, Benate’s gaze—now tinged faintly with red—locked onto her.

“You disqualified Prince Alvaro from the induction exam for unreasonable reasons. And you informed Sirion that you would replace him without even hearing his explanation.”

“……”

“If you didn’t dislike me, then why did you do that? There’s no other explanation.”

There never had been, and still wasn’t, a man like Ricciardo.

Ricciardo was a talented man, a fact that even Liton acknowledged. Sirion was also an Imperial physician who had passed his examinations fairly and by the book. Even the reasons Benate had used to criticize them were nothing more than strained pretexts.

The only thing those two had in common was their unwavering support of Ailie.

They had done nothing except remain loyal to her, as though the idea of betrayal had never occurred to them. If Benate found them objectionable, then there could be only one explanation.

Hatred directed at her.

Such was his hatred for her that it compelled him to turn on even those around her. Not love twisted into resentment. Not affection warped into obsession.

Just pure, unfiltered hatred.

“…It was jealousy.”

That was when it happened.

Benate suddenly said something utterly absurd.

Had she misheard him?

Ailie’s eyes widened.

Jealousy? Was he saying he’d done all that out of jealousy?

“All of those unreasonable things I did… it was because of jealousy.”

Impossible. That couldn’t be true.

“I’m sorry for being so petty and contemptible. I didn’t want to admit it myself, but this is the truth. The fact that there were others by your side, Ailie—”

That feeling had to be hatred. It couldn’t be anything else—

“…I couldn’t endure it.”