“This is the first time I’ve seen your face.”

At Ailie’s gentle smile, the young physician, Sirion, stood stiffly and nodded. A short “Yes.” followed, barely audible.

Perhaps he was nervous, called here to examine the empress.

His composed features were faintly tense.

“You haven’t been a physician for long, have you?”

“That is correct. Two weeks ago, after reaching adulthood, I was recognized for my work as an assistant and was permitted to take the examination. I passed and became an official imperial physician.”

His voice was dry and rigid.

So he had spent years as an assistant before earning the right to take the test and join the imperial medical corps.

But then…

‘Why have I never seen him before?’

He was not someone whose face one could easily overlook.

Ailie studied Sirion closely, searching her memories from before the regression, but nothing came to mind. Not a single fragment.

He was completely unfamiliar.

Ailie narrowed her eyes again, examining him once more, then let out a small sigh as she spoke.

No matter how she thought about it, he felt strange. Not only had she never seen anyone like him in the palace. Even in the original novel, such a person had never appeared.

He was tall and strikingly handsome — the sort of man who would turn heads anywhere. With features like his, he should have been known to the palace staff — Ailie should have heard his name at least once, if only in passing.

Narrowing her eyes, Ailie examined him again, then sighed softly before speaking.

No matter how she considered it, there was something strange about him. Not only had she never seen anyone like him in the palace, such a person had never existed in the original novel either.

“Well then. Don’t just stand there—come in.”

“Yes.”

Sirion only stepped into the chamber then. The maid who had been standing outside followed him in quickly and moved to Ailie’s side.

Ailie slowly moved towards the couch.

This familiar movement brought back old memories, tightening her throat with tension.

She had undergone countless examinations before, but they had only ever caused her pain.

Trying to shake off these memories, Ailie shook her head briskly from side to side.

‘It’s all right. This time will be different.’

He was newly appointed, so his skill might not be entirely reliable—but Sirion did not seem like the kind of person who would corner or torment her.

Hoping her instinct was right, Ailie forced her trembling lips into a composed smile.

“Would you take a slow, deep breath, Your Majesty?”

Ailie tried to steady her uneven breathing. Those soft, lavender eyes studied her calm and observant expression before he quietly murmured something to the maid.

Perhaps it was a request for tea to be prepared.

Soon, the faint sound of teacups being placed on a surface followed, and a gentle, bitter fragrance with a hint of sweetness filled the room.

Only then did the tormenting memories begin to blur. The tension in her neck and shoulders slowly eased, melting away like frost beneath the sun’s warmth.

“It’s quite effective. It feels as though all the tension and fatigue from today are melting away.”

She said it with a soft smile, though Sirion still wore a faintly troubled expression, as if something was missing.

What else did he need…?

While she stared at those violet eyes in quiet puzzlement, a gloved hand extended toward her.

“Your Majesty, if you do not mind… would you give me your hand?”

“My hand?”

“Yes. Your hands are still trembling.”

Only then did Ailie lower her gaze.

Her hands trembled faintly and pitifully.

These were the same cold, fragile hands that had never been held before. Hands that turned red and cracked in the empire’s bitter winters, unnoticed by anyone. Hands that she had always kept tightly hidden inside her gloves.

With careful hesitation, Ailie placed her hand atop his gloved palm. Even through the glove, she could feel Sirion’s warmth.

Warmer, she was certain, than the hand of the emperor she had never touched.

Her trembling gradually subsided.

“…Ah, I’ll leave the tea here.”

Flustered by the sight, the maid hurriedly set the teapot and cups on the table. Snapping back to herself, Ailie quickly pulled her hand away from Sirion’s.

She knew it was part of the examination—not affection—but she didn’t want to invite needless misunderstanding.

Not because she feared Benate’s reaction. Because she didn’t want anything to harm Sirion.

“Since the trembling has eased, I’ll begin the examination now.”

“All right. Thank you for your consideration.”

Sirion paused mid-note at those words.

His long lashes lowered like a curtain, rising and falling with each blink.

He stared at his notebook for a moment before speaking carefully.

“…I heard that you were reluctant to receive my visit.”

So it had reached his ears too.

Ailie stiffened, at a loss.

She had refused not because of Sirion but because of memories from before her regression.

She opened her mouth to explain, but Sirion continued first.

“It is entirely my fault that I have not earned Your Majesty’s trust. But even if you find me lacking, when you are in need of a physician… I must be by your side.”

“Ah…”

“I wished—somehow—to give you reason to trust me.”

“…”

“Was I… even a little trustworthy?”

As he asked his timid question, scratching his cheek as though embarrassed, Ailie instinctively averted her gaze.

Rather than answering, she simply nodded. She felt she might cry if she spoke.

As Sirion stood quietly before her, Ailie remembered that nobody had believed her before her regression. Not once.

Nor had anyone expected her to trust them.

A mad empress. A broken empress.

The palace had rejected her so completely that she had ceased to exist in their eyes.

But now, someone was offering her trust.

How long had it been since she had experienced such kindness?

Like awakening from a long dream, her senses returned fully to the present. The weightless, drifting feeling between past and present disappeared completely.

Ailie covered part of her face with one hand and answered softly.

“…You do all this so well, yet you ask something so obvious.”

***

That evening, the imperial garden remained lively until late.

The sound of children laughing, which was rarely heard within the palace walls, echoed through the air, mingling with the animated chatter of the guests. Most of the nobles sat around the warm tables, exchanging greetings and conversation as though time itself had paused.

It was a celebration in every sense of the word.

Since Emperor Benate had made a brief appearance before leaving, the garden’s energy did not fade, even as the closing hour approached.

Then, at that very moment, someone slipped quietly out of the garden with her maid.

Ink-black hair vanished into the shadows. A pale face twisted with barely restrained fury and golden eyes glinting with venom revealed the emperor’s mistress, Donata Seidler.

“Young Lady, are we returning to the estate?”

“…”

“His Majesty didn’t seem particularly displeased with you, so—”

“Be quiet. Close your mouth and follow me.”

The maid wilted instantly under the sharp tone.

Donata kicked at the ground, tearing stray strands of black hair from her pale face, her movements sharp with irritation.

The source of her anger was the emperor’s absurd reaction.

“The second daughter of House Seidler… Hm. I suppose I don’t recall anything particular.”

Impossible. Absolutely impossible.

It hadn’t sounded like a shameless lie. Those pale-blue eyes had shown nothing but complete, unshakable indifference.

Even Donata sensed it, yet she refused to accept it.

It couldn’t be. It never could.

‘If this were something that could fall apart so easily, I wouldn’t have poured in so much time and money.’

“Tsk.”

The sharp click of Donata’s tongue made her maid swallow nervously.

When Donata flew into a rage, trouble always ensued.

She would lash out at every minor slight, and the real problem would come afterwards. Count Seidler.

He tormented the staff endlessly by ordering them to calm his daughter down.

Since his eldest daughter was already married, he doted on his second.

He would do anything for her.

Given this, it was no surprise that Donata had grown so brazen, supported by a father who indulged her every whim, and bolstered by her own natural arrogance and past actions.

“I should speak to Father first and figure something out. Before it’s too late, absolutely as soon as possible.”

“But Young Lady, the master is scheduled to meet His Majesty tomorrow. At this hour—”

Just then, Donata stopped mid-step.

Count Seidler would be seeing the emperor tomorrow…

Her golden eyes gleamed with scheming light.

“…Why did I forget that?”

“Pardon?”

“Yes… come to think of it, that was tomorrow, wasn’t it?”

Donata murmured to herself, touching her pale cheek.

Empress Ailie…

‘I thought she would endure longer.’

She had expected the woman to keep swallowing her grievances until she finally fled the palace. A foolish woman who would bear it and bear it and still not retaliate.

But she had never imagined the empress would strike her across the face within a single day.

‘So much for pretending to be demure.’

Donata let out a short, mocking laugh.

Her maid blinked rapidly in confusion, an uneasy chill creeping along her spine like winter air seeping into her bones.

“Fine. I’ll behave myself today. I won’t run to Father immediately. So relax your face.”

“Young Lady…”

“Truly.”

“Th-thank you.”

“Come to think of it… there’s no need to rush.”

“…Pardon?”

With an unhurried smile, Donata spun lightly in place.

The black hem of her dress flared out in a soft sweep.

Then she lifted a hand to her lips and let out a delicate laugh.

“Tomorrow, I’ll have the chance to speak with the person in question.”