“Welcome, Your Majesty the Empress.”

The dowager empress, dressed in a calm, deep-brown gown, greeted Ailie with a soft smile. Her silver hair was neatly coiled up, adorned with a familiar gold ornament, the very one Ailie had gifted her last year.

The dowager had always been the type never to forget anything she received whether it was something pleasant, or something less so.

“I should have visited first, but I was not in the right state of mind.”

“No, no. I’m the one who summoned you without warning.”

Once they had taken their seats on the sofa, with the table set neatly between them, a maid stepped forward and promptly filled their teacups, as if she had been waiting.

A familiar fragrance rose into the air.

When had it been?

Perhaps it was the first time she had visited the palace.

Back then, the Dowager Empress had served her this tea. Still young, Ailie had widened her eyes and exclaimed that she had never tasted anything like it.

From that day on, the Dowager Empress served this same tea whenever she received her.

Even when Ailie came to see her before returning to the Emperor to confess his infidelity, the tea on the table was unchanged.

“I heard you’ve seemed rather unwell these days.”

The dowager lifted her teacup with refined grace as she began to speak.

Had she heard it from the emperor?

Ailie quietly recalled those blue eyes. He had looked impossibly busy, yet apparently still had time to entertain unnecessary thoughts.

“Did His Majesty say that?”

“Yes, he was very worried.”

“…I see.”

“Of course, I was worried as well.”

There was a faint hint of concern in the Dowager’s voice.

It did not feel insincere, though.

The Dowager had always been warm.

From the first time Ailie visited the palace until the moment she revealed the Emperor’s affair, nothing had changed.

Even in the original novel, the Dowager Empress showed Ailie genuine affection; one could feel her gentle warmth even through the written page.

That was why, before her return, the desperate Ailie had sought her out.

She had gone to ask for help.

‘I was so afraid and so desperate back then… I truly believed Her Majesty the Dowager would help me.’

Although it was the Dowager who had turned her away and driven her to the brink, she was also the one looking at her with concern now.

She had cared for the empress, yes, but never as much as she had cared for her own son.

“There is nothing you need to worry about. I’m all right.”

“Truly? Nothing happened?”

“Yes. I’ll make sure His Majesty has nothing to worry about. I’ll focus on recovering.”

‘It’s fine. I’ll behave quietly from now on—silent as a mouse.’

‘How could a nominal empress dare provoke the emperor?’

‘I’ll act properly. I won’t let anything about me reach your ears ever again.’

All those thoughts were pressed down and shaped into her calm reply.

“If you ever feel troubled, please tell me, Your Majesty the Empress.”

“Yes, I will.”

‘I won’t. Never. Absolutely never.’

The dowager’s warm brown eyes studied her face. Perhaps convinced by how obedient she looked, the worry on her expression softened into relief.

‘So the reason she called me… was simply concern.’

Since the conversation was nearing its end, Ailie lifted her teacup in the quiet and thought: then now was the time to begin another conversation.

To draw the dowager to her side.

“I’m actually more worried about His Majesty than myself. It’s such a busy, chaotic time for him.”

The moment she opened her mouth, the dowager’s gaze shifted naturally to her.

“That’s true. He’s spent nearly every day in the office.”

“I feel as though I should stay by his side, making sure he’s comfortable and watching over him. I want to look after him in every little way.”

Her soft, rose-colored eyes shimmered with concern.

She looked as though she might burst into tears of pity for the hardworking emperor, with moisture faintly pooling at the corners of her eyes.

It was a well-crafted mask.

If there had been a mirror nearby, she might have felt nauseated.

If Benate was going to play the role of the empire’s beloved romantic hero so shamelessly, then she wouldn’t lose to him.

Fine.

She would join in with this loveless charade.

‘To avenge myself on you.’

If that required being a devoted wife on stage, then she would gladly play the role.

“Truly, His Majesty would draw strength from that sentiment alone.”

Warm approval filled the dowager’s expression.

“Yes…”

Ailie smiled faintly, brushing her hand beneath her eye as though relieved to be able to shed a tear.

Seeing this, the Dowager handed her a handkerchief. As Ailie pressed it to the corners of her eyes, the Dowager rose and gently patted her on the shoulder.

She must feel so proud to have a daughter-in-law who cares for her son.

“I’m sorry to show such an unbecoming sight.”

“Not at all. In fact, I’m touched. Your Majesty suits the position of empress so well.”

At that, her rose-colored eyes gleamed for an instant.

She had been waiting, waiting for those very words to fall from the dowager’s lips.

‘Everything is going smoothly.’

Ailie lowered her gaze as if embarrassed. Her delicate face, slightly thinner than before, looked quietly forlorn.

“R-really…?”

As she let her voice trail off in a subdued tone, the dowager shifted in her seat, flustered and unsure how to comfort her.

In front of that worried, shaken expression, Ailie began to speak.

“Actually… I heard something recently that troubled me a little.”

“What kind of rumor was it?”

“It concerned whether I am truly suited to be empress. It seems there are those who believe I do not belong in this position.”

“What? How could anyone say something so absurd…?”

“Perhaps someone is eagerly hoping to take this place for themselves. After all, His Majesty and I still have no child. There are people who think our relationship is unstable because of that.”

The more Ailie spoke, the angrier the Dowager became. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but she could feel her fists, which were resting on her lap, trembling.

Ailie glanced at her and allowed herself a faint inward smirk.

She remembered the day before she had returned, when the Dowager had lost control and thrown a vase against the wall. Yet now, simply by wearing a mask and telling a few lies, the target of her anger had shifted so easily.

Was the dowager really that simple? Or had the Ailie of that time been unbearably foolish?

“Who would dare say such a thing before Her Majesty the Empress!”

“I only heard it as a rumor. I don’t know who said it.”

“Even so—!”

“I’m sorry to burden you with my complaints, Your Majesty. I should have ignored the rumor, but perhaps I am too narrow-minded. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“You are not narrow-minded at all. Not in the slightest. You have been visiting the palace as the future crown princess for a long time, and even now, as empress, you have never displayed a single flaw. Someone like you cannot simply be dismissed.”

The Dowager Empress held Ailie’s hand gently as she spoke.

Ailie met her gaze, allowing old memories to come to the fore.

Yes. Long ago, the position of empress had been hers.

From childhood, she had been chosen by the imperial family and undergone rigorous etiquette training. Becoming empress of the empire was an honor, but it demanded absolute responsibility.

She had never once joined the Count’s family on their annual holidays. She had never thrown a tantrum to win her parents’ affection. They loved her dearly, yet she had no time to receive that love.

There was too much to learn and master, and too much that she was required to give up.

By the time she was twelve, around the time at which this novel begins, her education had become relentless. Three years later, aged fifteen, she was formally engaged to Crown Prince Benate and began attending every major imperial function.

By then, scarcely anyone among the high nobles who came and went from the palace did not recognize her face.

At nineteen, following the sudden death of the former emperor, Benate ascended the throne. Soon after, Ailie held her wedding ceremony and became the new empress.

She had not appeared out of nowhere to seize the empress’s seat. She had prepared for years, earned the people’s recognition, and taken her rightful place.

There was never any room for someone like Donata Seidler to intrude.

“Thank you, Your Majesty the Dowager. For being on my side.”

Ailie spoke in a trembling, pitiful voice.

“Please… please continue to protect me.”

***

“Are you feeling tired at all?”

As soon as she stepped out of the drawing room, Breni, who had been waiting right outside the door, hurried over to her with a question.

She must have been worried the whole time, as she looked extremely concerned.

After all, she had delivered the message late, and she was the only person who knew what Ailie had looked like when she witnessed Benate’s affair in her previous life.

Since Ailie had said she was going to talk to the Dowager, Breni must have been anxious, imagining the worst without knowing why.

Ailie shook her head lightly.

“No, not at all. I actually feel refreshed.”

Breni’s round face lit up immediately.

And it was true — Ailie did feel lighter.

Just because she had made a grave mistake upon her return didn’t mean she could avoid facing the dowager forever.

It was an encounter she would have had to face at some point anyway.

This time, however, she had made no mistakes and had gained the dowager’s trust. That alone was a success.

“I should get back and finish reviewing the documents.”

“Please take it slowly, Your Majesty.”

As always, the gentle nagging began the moment Ailie opened her mouth. She let out a small laugh and quickened her steps towards her bedchamber.

After finding a suitable marriage candidate for Donata, she planned to enjoy tea in the garden with Breni, and then stop by the archives on the way back to pick out a book. She was indulging in that relaxed train of thought when—

“…That person is…?”

In the middle of the corridor leading to her bedchamber, she noticed a familiar back turned toward her.
The figure stood frozen, clutching several bags in both hands as if unsure what to do, shifting restlessly in place.

His neatly arranged hair had become mussed, the ends of his dark-gray strands sticking out slightly, and even from afar, his tall frame was unmistakable.

“Sirion?”

The moment she called his name he whipped his head around. His pale lavender eyes widened in surprise, blinking rapidly.

It was Sirion Fedroti, the imperial physician.

“Y-Your Majesty…”

Perhaps Benate had summoned him again. It seemed they had crossed paths purely by accident.

Most likely, acting under the emperor’s orders, he had come all the way to the empress’s chambers—
only to find the room empty, leaving him flustered.

He could neither enter an unattended room nor ignore the emperor’s command, so he must have been waiting in the hallway this entire time.

Even though it wasn’t her fault, Ailie felt a faint pang of guilt and gave him an awkward smile.

“If I’d known such an important guest was coming, I would have returned sooner.”

At her words, his lavender eyes fluttered, unable to settle anywhere. He looked so distressed and apologetic that he resembled a small animal being teased by a predator—and Ailie felt another wave of regret.

“Whatever brings you here, it would be better to speak while seated. Come inside.”