Chapter 4: The Captured Empress (3)

“Did you sleep well, Rui?”

According to Emma, it was good for babies to hear their mother’s voice often. So what had started as a conscious habit had long since become natural for her.

After dinner the previous night, she had asked to be left alone with Rui. Thankfully, the ladies-in-waiting respected her wishes and withdrew completely from the room. Even so, the night in the Empress’s palace had been far from restful.

The darkened halls of the palace were far too wide and cold compared to her small wooden house. After two years of living a life far removed from nobility, the soft clothes and bedding felt unfamiliar against her skin.

“…These clothes are really nice.”

“Ah-oo, ah, ooo…”

What weighed on her most was the outfit the ladies-in-waiting had brought that morning, calling it something fit for a young prince.

The moment her hands touched the fabric, Larie knew.

This wasn’t something even average nobles could easily afford—it was made of the finest material.

Having grown up in the Trompérie family, which managed one of the largest merchant guilds, Larie had an eye for luxury goods, even if she’d been treated coldly all her life.

Compared to this, the fabric she had painstakingly bought with grain sold at the market didn’t even come close.

And so, like a pebble rolling around in her heart, small thoughts kept unsettling her.

If Rui had grown up in a ducal household, if he had grown up by Terian’s side… he would’ve lived in a much better environment.

“Aaah, ahh!”

“Yes, yes.”

Perhaps noticing his mother’s darkened mood, Rui suddenly began to squirm.

As soon as she smiled and lifted him into her arms, he calmed as if nothing had happened.

Though she forced a smile, unease continued to drift in a corner of her heart.

Just what was Terian thinking? Seeing the lavish comfort he provided, was he trying to win her favor—or was it a trap to do harm to her or Rui?

Thinking of Terian made her chest heavy with sighs.

Just as she was about to let one slip—while restraining herself for Rui’s sake—there was a gentle knock at the door.

“Your Majesty the Empress. It is Charelle.”

“…Come in.”

Her request to be called simply by her name had been ignored repeatedly.

Larie, now half-resigned, decided she would bring it up to Terian directly.

“His Majesty the Emperor wishes to invite you to luncheon.”

“……”

An invitation she had somewhat anticipated.

Terian hadn’t visited the night before, so she figured he might call for her today.

She gave Charelle, who looked cautiously at her, a small nod.

“All right.”

Outside, the sunlight sparkled across the lake once again, dazzling as ever.

❖ ❖ ❖

Terian waited for noon with no small measure of anxiety.

He had received reports that soldiers had blocked Larie’s path when she attempted to leave.

He had indeed ordered the palace gates closed to her, but hearing that she’d actually tried to run away left him in a miserable state.

He had wanted to go to her right away, but it had already been late at night.

Deciding it would be better to calm his emotions first, he instead sent a message asking to share a meal with her at midday.

Fortunately, it was said that Larie hadn’t refused that—not yet.

But as the time drew nearer, Terian felt something indistinct tightening around his ankles, holding him back.

What was this feeling?

“Your Majesty, it is nearly time for the luncheon.”

“I know.”

He hadn’t made much progress on his paperwork—his thoughts kept drifting back to her.

The chamberlain, noticing this, said nothing and simply brought over a cold towel.

While he gently wiped Terian’s hands and fitted fresh gloves, another attendant returned from arranging the luncheon. He looked troubled.

“Your Majesty.”

“What is it?”

“Well… Her Majesty the Empress is refusing to leave her room.”

At that report, Terian shot up from his seat.

The scattered papers on his desk mirrored his unsettled heart.

“I’m going to the Empress’s quarters.”

He stormed out, all prior hesitation vanishing without a trace.

The words she’s refusing to leave her room echoed in his ears like thunder.

It sounded too much like how she used to shut herself away at the ducal estate.

That memory burned through him with fresh anger.

“Y-Your Majesty!”

He arrived at the Empress’s quarters in a flash, finding the ladies-in-waiting flustered outside the door.

Casting them a glance, Terian’s eyes fixed immediately on the open doorway to the bedchamber beyond.

“What is the meaning of this.”

Larie stood near the far side of the bed, clutching the child tightly in her arms.

She radiated caution, and her green eyes pierced directly into him.

“We… we simply offered to look after the young prince for a short while…”

The head lady-in-waiting faltered mid-explanation, but Terian’s gaze never wavered from Larie.

Her sharply defensive posture struck him as unusual.

It reminded him of how others in the ducal household had always looked down on her.

His eyes narrowed coldly.

“Did any of you dare behave disrespectfully toward the Empress?”

As soon as his fury spilled forth, the maids all dropped to their knees.

At the front, the head maid quickly began to explain what had happened.

“Please forgive us, Your Majesty.”

“We only meant to assist by caring for the young prince during the luncheon, but it seems there was a misunderstanding.”

Larie’s expression shifted into surprise at the explanation.

Only then did Terian realize something had been misunderstood.

Of course, no one had intended to harm the child.

Even in anger, Terian was a noble trained to always maintain dignity.

So the cause of her suspicion… must have been himself.

He recalled how she had recoiled in the carriage, thinking his hand would strike her.

The memory sent a cold chill brushing the back of his neck.

“My lady.”

“…”

“Did you truly think I would harm the child?”

“…”

Her silence was an answer.

The heavy air between them twisted something inside him.

“Leave us.”

All who had been kneeling quietly withdrew.

The door shut with a soft click behind them.

At once, he stepped forward—cutting across the silence without hesitation.

He would no longer permit anything to stand between them.

Cornered against the wall, Larie took a step back in distress.

Her arms trembled slightly as she clutched the child—she must have been holding him that way all throughout the standoff with the maids.

The sight of it nearly made Terian’s reason go white.

“Let me go.”

“…”

He grasped her arm and pulled her toward the nearby chair, making her sit despite her resistance.

The stubbornness she clung to, even in exhaustion, inexplicably irritated him.

Larie slumped weakly into the seat under his hold.

Biting her lip, she looked up at him—and then, with a voice small but firm, she spoke.

The scent he had longed for—her warmth and the faint milky smell unique to infants—lingered between them.

“No. This is where you belong.”

Terian bit out the words like a command.

“Did you truly believe leaving the estate amounted to a divorce?”

“That’s…!”

Larie’s face flushed with alarm—clearly, that was exactly what she had thought.

Her green eyes wavered slightly as they met his. He knew all too well that what they held wasn’t fondness—but even so, he couldn’t stop.

Because having her look at him with anything, even resentment, was better than the emptiness of the past.

After a few deep breaths, he opened his mouth again, forcing himself to steady the storm inside.

“You’ll want for nothing here.”

“Your Majesty…”

Her frightened eyes pierced him like blades to the chest.

“Once a few matters are settled, the formal coronation as Empress will take place.”

“Your Majesty, I…”

“If you need anything until then, inform the head lady-in-waiting.”

He didn’t want to hear the words that were coming.

Having her here, alive and close, was all he had wanted.

But the words flowing from her beautiful lips were as painful as he had feared.

“If the divorce papers weren’t properly filed… even if they were never drawn up, I would still like to go through the process formally.”

“…”

That one sentence, her insistence on divorce, clenched around Terian’s throat like a noose.

It left him drowning in a helpless, suffocating despair.

What must he do to keep her?

“I won’t divorce you—then or now.”

He declared it again, voice trembling faintly.

But Larie only stared back, confusion etched deep into her expression.

“Why…?”

Yes. Why, indeed.

Terian tried not to dwell on that part. There was no need to, not when he had understood it so clearly the day she disappeared.

He no longer needed a reason for his desire to have her by his side.

It was why he had seized the throne in the first place.

His vision kept threatening to go dark. Anxious tension tightened around his entire body.

The fact that she kept speaking of leaving—he clenched the armrest of the chair hard, resentment rising.

What must I do to keep you?

Then, from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the silver hair so much like Larie’s.

Staring down at the infant’s milk-scented head, Terian spoke as if entranced.

“This child will become the Crown Prince.”

“What…?”

“He will be provided for without restraint. Naturally, he’ll become the next emperor of this nation.”

It was the child who had remained in her arms ever since Terian had found her again.

As if he were more precious than anything else in the world, Larie always held the child close.

And so, Terian intended to give the child everything.

Because if he did, Larie would stay.

“Wait—what are you saying…”

Larie looked utterly stunned.

Of course she was. She knew better than anyone that the child was not Terian’s.

Even he understood that what he was saying was madness.

So her reaction did not surprise him.

“Th-That’s… That can’t happen.”

And yet, it was that simple rejection from her soft lips that blurred his senses.

Did he truly have no chance?

Just like the day she had fled without hesitation?

“Why not?”

“…”

The swelling tide of despair began to crest, pushing dangerously toward the surface.

If she didn’t want to be here, should he at least bind her body to the Empress’s palace?

One twisted, terrifying thought followed another, born of deepening obsession.

Even the way she tried to slip away from the small chair irritated him.

Lifting the hand he had braced against the armrest, Terian grabbed her chin and pulled her toward him.

“Is being by my side… that repulsive to you?”

“Ugh.”

Larie flinched again at the hand coming toward her. But Terian’s large hand did nothing more than grip her chin.

The pull that brought her forward was slightly rough.

More than anything, what struck her was how strange Terian looked—his expression pale and oppressively dark.

And to say “repulsive”…

She had never once thought Terian was repulsive.

…If anything, wasn’t it Terian who had found her repulsive?

“To think His Majesty took in the filthy blood of Tromperie as his wife—how pitiful. If it were me, I would have retched just having her near.”

The memories she had buried deep clawed their way up, threatening to bind her once more.

She wanted to shrink away, but his hand held her firmly, refusing to let go.

Clenching her eyes shut, Larie barely managed to drive the memories away.

And so, when she opened her eyes to face his vivid blue gaze again, her thoughts had cleared just enough.

Whatever else might be said, the title of Empress was far too grand for her.

Larie truly believed that.

These past two years, she had barely managed to learn how to survive.

But being Empress was a different world altogether.

Maybe—just maybe—this humble life she had carved out for herself was all she was ever suited for.

And so, even with dry tension knotting her throat, she was able to ask him—

The man who now offered her inexplicable things.

“Have you forgiven Tromperie, Your Majesty?”

Her calm, steady voice stirred a storm inside Terian’s mind.