It didn’t matter.

She was now living for one purpose alone: revenge. No matter how Benate saw her or which of her uglier sides he witnessed, none of it mattered.

But why couldn’t she look straight into his blue eyes?

“What brings Your Majesty all the way out here at this hour?”

Ailie spoke calmly and composedly, while her gaze lingered awkwardly on the emperor’s left cheek.

How much had he seen?

From the moment she walked into the tavern?

Or from the moment she struck Donata?

Or when she turned her back after issuing her threats?

‘Whatever the case, I just have to be shameless.’

It wasn’t meaningless spite.

It was revenge—against Benate, who had destroyed every bit of trust she had; against Donata, who had dared to act as though she were the empress while flaunting her affair.

She wasn’t tormenting an innocent person.

Ailie was the victim.

She had no need to apologize, no reason to shrink back.

Emperor Benate looked into her rose-colored eyes without answering, as if searching her expression.

“Your Majesty!”

At that moment, Donata called out sharply, her voice shrill enough to pierce the ear.

“Your Majesty, I know I was at fault last night, so I understand why Her Majesty can’t stand me. But to strike me when I came here alone without an escort…”

Clutching her swollen cheek, Donata let fat tears roll down her face—pitiful enough to stir sympathy in anyone unaware of the truth.

But the emperor’s pale-blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“…Who is she?”

“What?”

“I asked who she is to speak in such a manner.”

Nonsensical words spilled from Benate’s lips.

‘Who?’

To his own mistress, who had openly admitted that it was her fault the previous evening?

Ailie’s mind froze at this unexpected response.

Was this an act?

Was he pretending innocence again, just as he had done before her regression, when he had won over the entire palace?

Was he trying to make her believe that it had all been the empress’s delusion?

There was no way he could have forgotten the mistress he cherished enough to bring her to the empress’s chambers.

‘Donata Seidler wasn’t the shameless one after all.’

An unpleasant chill seeped through Ailie’s mind, sinking all the way into her chest.

So this was the strategy Benate had used before her regression—one she had failed to notice. A cunning, deceitful man to a terrifying degree.

“Y-Your Majesty… surely you don’t mean…”

Donata, the betrayed accomplice, shook her head in disbelief. Her voice trembled as she spoke. The tears that had been falling moments ago dried instantly, leaving only fury in her bloodshot eyes.

Benate simply looked down at her with an indifferent expression. He wasn’t trying to convince her to play along in front of the empress.

No — his expression was cold and detached, like the surface of a frozen lake.

‘But just like before the regression, once he wins the palace to his side again, he’ll go right back to seeking her out.’

It was fortunate she had returned to the past—fortunate she no longer fell for that emotionless face that hid everything beneath.

Ailie smiled softly, pretending to be deceived by his act.

‘Fine. If you intend to play it cleverly, I won’t rush either.’

Exposing the truth everywhere and turning the palace upside down had accomplished nothing. Her last life had taught her that.

So for revenge, Ailie herself needed to become shrewder.

“So then, Your Majesty… did you come all the way here just to see me?”

Ailie spoke in a voice so sweet it was chilling—hoping, just for an instant, that Benate’s cold expression might crack.

But—

“What other reason could I have?”

With a warm smile that did not suit him, Benate answered as though nothing were unusual.

“This morning, I was careless. I prepared a cape with a warming enchantment for you, but I forgot to bring it.”

“……”

“You must have been cold. Will you accept my belated apology?”

Ailie stood speechless. Goosebumps prickled her skin as she tried to take in what was happening.

Benate held out a luxurious white cape adorned with a pearl brooch. It matched her dress perfectly, which made Ailie freeze even more.

Had he really cut short the morning schedule because of her?

‘No way…’

It was impossible.

Benate was not a gentle person. She had learnt that the hard way in her previous life.

So was all of that just an elaborate performance?

Had everything been planned from the beginning?

Perhaps Donata had told Benate about their planned meeting, and they had devised the scheme together.

It wasn’t unbelievable.

‘Disgusting.’

Feeling as if she couldn’t breathe, Ailie stepped back and spotted the terrace door still open behind her.

Her only escape from Benate—

She didn’t think any further.

Ailie bolted from the spot, grabbed Breni’s hand waiting inside, and fled down the alleyway.

“Y-Your Majesty?”

“Empress!”

Ailie ran without looking back, covering one ear with her hand. Just as she had done the day before the regression, she ran desperately, not caring that her dress was getting dirty and torn, as though she were fleeing Benate forever.

Large snowflakes began to fall from the once clear sky, as though trying to hide the empress from view.

The Emperor stood alone on the terrace, watching blankly as Ailie’s figure disappeared.

“…How strange, today of all days.”

Before she could understand whom he was speaking to, the emperor’s quiet muttering dissolved into the cold air.

***

That day, Ailie never showed her face in the western district. She simply couldn’t bring herself to stand beside Benate.

Her clenched fist still trembled faintly. Her legs refused to hold any strength, so she sat on the edge of the bed, breathing slowly.

“Your Majesty… are you really sure nothing happened?”

Ailie wiped the cold sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and nodded. Breni’s expression became increasingly worried.

The Emperor had merely confirmed that the Empress, who had been in flight, had returned to her chamber before proceeding to the streets. She had not been invited, requested or insisted upon accompanying him to the western district.

Earlier, Ailie had asked Breni to check with the Emperor and report back. She hadn’t expected him to summon the mistress he claimed not to know immediately, but she had asked anyway.

‘Because I regretted it endlessly in my last life.’

Breni, having just returned, told her that there was no one beside the emperor.

At least that much was a relief. It might have been a lie—but Ailie no longer had the strength to step outside and confirm it herself.

“You may go now, Breni. I want to rest a bit.”

“Ah, yes. Please rest well.”

“That dress ended up being wasted. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.”

At the calm apology, Breni smiled and shook her head. Her clear, innocent face reminded Ailie of the friend she had known at the count’s estate, and Ailie let out a faint sigh.

‘What is real?’

Breni, who had betrayed her.

Breni, the longtime friend who had always been on her side.

Benate, who never spared her even a glance as he played with his mistress.

Benate, who had looked directly into her eyes today and spoken with gentle words.

Her head throbbed.

As soon as Breni’s silhouette vanished from view, Ailie collapsed face-first onto the bed.

‘I’m tired.’

Her eyelids blinked slowly as she considered sleep when the distant murmur of crowds outside caught her attention.

Of course! It was the Empire’s joyous New Year festival. Now that the morning chill had eased, the streets would be filled with even more visitors.

She recalled hearing that the imperial gardens would open partially that evening.

“…So much for getting any rest.”

A sigh escaped her lips.

And at that moment, someone knocked on the door.

Knock, knock.

“Your Majesty, I bring a message from His Majesty the Emperor.”

It was the voice of the maid assigned to tidy the empress’s chamber.

A message from the emperor…

Ailie rose slowly and answered through the door.

“All right, come in.”

The door opened, and the maid stepped inside.

Ailie smoothed her tousled pale-gold hair with her fingers and offered an automatic, habitual smile.

“Tell me. What message does His Majesty wish to convey?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. He worries that you may be unwell and wishes to summon a physician.”

“…A physician?”

It was absurd — almost laughable.

Why had he been acting so gently and attentively from morning until now? Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone?

But above all, he was a physician.

Before her regression, Ailie had despised the old doctor who loudly proclaimed that he would ‘treat’ her. She had merely spoken the truth about what she had seen. There had never been anything wrong with her. A prescription meant to cure an illness that didn’t exist could never have helped her.

Yet the physician sought the emperor’s favor by branding Ailie as a sufferer of some vague, imaginary disease.

At one point, he had even pressured her to tell the emperor that his medicine had been effective.

He was not just shameless; he was vile.

Would she really have to endure that old man’s examinations every day again?

“A physician will come to examine you shortly. I was told to inform you in advance.”

“That won’t be necessary. Please tell His Majesty I’m sorry, but I’m not unwell enough to need an examination. I was probably just tired.”

“If that is the case, then after the examination, I will serve tea to help relieve your fatigue.”

The maid spoke in a dry, stubborn tone.

Had Benate explicitly ordered the physician to be summoned?

It felt as though any further argument would be pointless.

Ailie raised her hand as if to dismiss the idea, then quietly settled both hands in her lap. It would be better to submit to the examination in silence than to cause a scene.

As long as the physician didn’t mention seeing the emperor with his mistress, there was no reason for Benate to respond so harshly.

Before her regression, the harder she fought, the worse her misfortune became. If she repeated the same mistakes now, she would suffer the same fate at the next New Year’s banquet.

‘Stay calm.’

Ailie nodded with a composed expression.

“All right. But please tell His Majesty there is nothing truly wrong, so he needn’t worry too much.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I will deliver the message.”

It was only then that the maid left the room.

Ailie stared blankly at the closed door and let out a long sigh.

It was fine.

This time was different from before.

Before the regression, when the physician had been summoned, she and Benate had both been on edge. If Ailie were not treated as a patient, the emperor’s affair would become undeniable. Under those circumstances, it was only natural that they had tried so desperately to paint the empress as unwell — cruelly so.

Ailie exhaled slowly, forcing herself to steady her heart.

Time passed—

Knock, knock.

The sound of someone knocking came again.

“Your Majesty, by His Majesty’s command, I have come to examine you.”

There was no avoiding it now.

Ailie answered the door in the calmest voice she could manage.

“Very well. Come in.”

And just as she finished speaking—just as she noticed that the voice outside sounded strangely unfamiliar—the door opened.

Dark, cool gray hair.  Soft lavender eyes like the petals of a lavender blossom. And a tidy, delicate… youthful face.

He was not the old physician who had tormented her before the regression.

“I offer my greetings, Your Majesty. I am Sirion Fedroti.”