“I saw my child in the eastern field.”

“W-what…?”

“My knight found her collapsed among the sheep and brought her to me.”

“Una? Was Una hurt? Among the sheep…? When? Wasn’t the shepherd there?”

“She seemed very frightened, so I put her in the carriage. She was looking for her mother.”

“That makes sense… I’m sorry for the trouble. She’s a shy child and usually avoids the sheep. I can’t imagine what happened…”

“That’s not the point at the moment. You should go and find her.”

“Oh yes, of course!”

Swan stammered, nodding quickly.

As Swan imagined Una collapsing among the sheep, confusion set in. Just then, the man dismounted and approached her. His large hand rested familiarly on her shoulder. Still dazed, Swan glanced at Atlion before noticing one of his knights take the basket from her hands.

As she instinctively reached out to retrieve it, Atlion gave her a gentle smile and pulled her into an embrace.

“I’ve missed you, Swan.”

His hand was tight and heavy around her waist. Swan blinked in surprise, startled by the cold, weighty touch as his hand moved from her lower back to her pinned up hair. Her hands, which had been pressing lightly against his chest, froze as he removed the pin, allowing her long hair to fall freely. He lowered his face into her soft, wavy hair.

Swan jumped in shock, her body stiffening as his arms tightened around her waist and back. His strength was overwhelming, almost suffocating. Pressed tightly against his chest, she gasped for air, her wide, frightened eyes meeting his.

It was impossible not to be frightened. In the two and a half years since they had last met, she had never experienced such an intense display of strength. Though it seemed irrational, she felt as if she could be crushed against his chest. Her pale face trembled, her lips parted as she struggled to speak, her eyes fixed on him.

Fear consumed her, impossible to ignore. It was a weight she hadn’t felt in the two and a half years since their last meeting. As unreasonable as it seemed, she felt as if she could be crushed against his chest where her forehead rested. Pale with fear, Swan’s lips trembled as she looked up at him.

The man holding her slender form opened his eyes and lowered his lips to the nape of her neck. The soft warmth of his lips brushed against her delicate neckline, moving slowly. His tongue grazed the hollow of her collarbone as he pressed his lips along her skin. Swan struggled, hunching her shoulders in resistance and letting out a strained whimper.

“Your Highness, please… stop… Ah!”

Her eyes filled with tears. Just as she twisted her shoulders to push him away, his lips pressed against her exposed br*ast. She felt the soft flesh crushed between his teeth, leaving a faint mark on her pale skin. Overwhelmed, Swan struggled for a moment before breaking down in sobs.

“Your Highness! Stop! It hurts! Please!”

She felt the rough texture of his jaw brush against her br*ast before his lips abruptly pulled away. The oppressive grip that had bound her loosened. Swan, her eyes brimming with tears, stared at him, unable to speak. His face was fierce, an expression so intimidating that she was at a loss for words.

Her knees buckled and her legs gave out in an instant. Before she could fall, his long arms caught her. Struggling to catch her breath, Swan looked up at him with dazed, unfocused eyes.

“Were you scared?”

“I… I…”

Her voice was choked with tears. Trembling, she clung to his arm for support. He smiled weakly and leaned down to plant a kiss on her forehead.

“What is there to be afraid of? I’m your husband.”

His voice was calm and nonchalant. Still dazed, Swan stared at him as her feet left the ground. Blinking quickly, she instinctively grabbed his chest for support. Without hesitation, he carried her, parting the assembled knights as he went. A carriage waited behind the restless horses.

Like placing a delicate butterfly in a box, he carefully placed Swan inside. After planting a kiss on her cheek, he leaned close and whispered softly.

“Let’s go home, Swan.”

***

Raoul studied the woman carefully. He bowed his head in respect, a formal gesture of courtesy. The woman who had been crying flinched, as if startled by something unsettling. Her shoulders hunched as she bit her lip, trembling slightly.

The carriage crossed the drawbridge and stopped in the courtyard of the Emperor’s summer palace. The Emperor dismounted and approached the carriage. Standing in front of it, he waited patiently, seemingly intent on escorting the passenger himself, until the coachman opened the door.

As the door opened, the weeping woman raised her head. Her confused green eyes met the Emperor’s for a moment before darting around nervously.

“Swan.”

“Una, where is Una?”

“Come here.”

The Emperor replied, spreading his arms. His tone was calm and reassuring, as one might use to coax a frightened child out of hiding.

The woman flinched but didn’t move, retreating further into the carriage instead of answering.

“She’s in the palace.”

“P-please… bring her back.”

“She’s probably eating.”

“I… I should take her ….”

“Don’t I have the right to see my daughter?”

The Emperor’s tone was soft and persuasive, an unusual manner for him. It wasn’t clear when he had decided on this course of action, but it was obvious that the last two and a half years had been painfully long for him.

“Come in and rest for a while.”

“No, I must take Una and leave…”

“This is a beautiful castle – the summer retreat of the royal family. The child is happy here. It wouldn’t hurt to stay for a while.”

At his words the woman, who had been staring at him blankly, hesitated. Slowly, cautiously, she stepped out of the carriage, her swollen eyes scanning the summer residence with a mixture of caution and reluctance.

The castle was a stunning masterpiece: blue roofs and ivory bricks, soaring spires, open vistas and an artificial lake. Perfectly trimmed shrubs and evergreen trees adorned the grounds, while vibrant summer flowers bloomed in harmonious arrangements that delighted the senses. Among the summer residences of the Solerium Imperial family, this was considered to be the most magnificent.

“Ah…”

The Emperor gently took the frightened woman, who looked around nervously, and led her into the castle. Raoul followed in silence, contemplating the events that were about to unfold.

As Swan walked through the corridors, her waist held tightly by the Emperor, she glanced cautiously up at him. Her gaze then wandered to the round arched windows, the aged ivory columns and the elegant vine patterns intricately woven into the decor. The unmistakable Imperial Crest was visible throughout, and the high ceilings and sunlight streaming in through the windows gave the room a grand, ethereal atmosphere.

It was the first time she had been in a place like this, be it a palace or a summer residence. She had fled long before she could experience anything like it. Instead of admiring its beauty, Swan walked with stiff, anxious steps. The memory of meeting his family remained one of the most overwhelming experiences of her life.

The fact that she had been involved with a member of the royal family had already filled her with guilt and shame, but the humiliation she had suffered at the hands of his family – without any physical harm – still haunted her deeply.

“Where is Una?”

The bedroom door opened at the end of the corridor. A young maid who had been tidying the room greeted her with a calm expression and a slight curtsy before stepping out. The door closed behind her. Swan looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, now dry. He gently guided her to sit on the bed.

“She’s playing – with her nanny.”

“Where… where is she?”

“Swan.”

He said softly, his tone soothing yet firm. There was a solemn goodness in his voice. Swan blinked, her eyes wide as a child’s. The man, his hands resting on her shoulders, looked down at her with a calm, gentle gaze.

“You are tired. You’ve just come from work, haven’t you?”

“How… how did you know?”

“Wasn’t that basket your payment?” he replied, gesturing towards it.

Swan couldn’t find the words to answer. She averted her eyes, concentrating instead on the bedding. The fabric felt unnervingly soft in her hands, as if everything around her was made of satin. Lifting her head, her eyes landed on the pearly wardrobe and vanity. A faint floral scent filled the air – roses and geraniums, with a subtle hint of honey.

She felt completely out of place, as if she had been forced into a room where she didn’t belong. The discomfort grew, and with it the fear that she might face the same humiliation again, just as she had before.

“You mentioned that Una was hurt.”

“She’s all right now.”

The man who had held her shoulders as he looked at her sat down beside her. The bed sagged under his weight. When Swan instinctively tried to move away, his hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. Then he lifted his other hand and cupped her cheek firmly.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Your Highness.”

Swan whispered, her voice shaking.

When she reached up to push his hand away, he caught her wrist firmly. Swan’s eyelashes fluttered nervously.

“Your Majesty. That’s what you should be calling me now.”

“I… I apologise.”

Swan’s cheeks turned crimson as she lowered her gaze. Atlion smiled faintly and tilted his chin upwards. The gesture made her feel like a maiden destined to warm the Emperor’s bed, her heart pounding loudly in her chest. His fingers brushed her flushed cheeks, warm and tender.

A palpable tension, intimate and suffocating, enveloped her from head to toe. Instinctively, Swan shuffled backwards, trying to put some distance between them. Her heart thundered as if it would burst from her chest. She clung to thoughts of Theodor – anything to relieve the overwhelming pressure that surrounded her. Blinking quickly, she looked up at him cautiously.