Chapter 6: The End of a Relationship

The large garden table was laden with colorful desserts.

Fluffy breads and cakes, fruits and cheeses dyed red and yellow in season—there was no end to the food filling the table, yet their owner didn’t seem happy at all.

She merely rifled through the dozens of letters in her hand, not sparing a glance or the slightest interest in anything else.

“Your Majesty, the Empress has arrived.”

At his aide’s words, Igret lifted his gaze from below.

The gentle curve of his eyes and the fresh, sparkling green irises made the Emperor’s already kind impression even softer.

“Come here, Empress.”

Igret spotted Claudia standing at a distance and smiled warmly.

In response, Claudia also beamed brightly and walked toward him.

“It seems I’m bothering Your Majesty when you’re so busy.”

She sat down and glanced at the seat opposite her, speaking in a tired voice.

Her lips were pressed tightly together, her gaze lowered.

Despite her sharp features, Claudia looked as though she might burst into tears at any moment.

By nature, Claudia was quick to tears over the smallest things.

She readily offered kindness to those in difficult circumstances and approached others without hesitation, even from her position as Empress.

Perhaps that’s why so many of the palace staff called her by those nicknames.

The Crybaby of the Feltro Empire.

The tearful little kitten.

If things continued like this, people would say that the Emperor, who only cared for work, had made the Empress cry again, and he would be met with harsh looks.

Judging by experience, there might even be a few fewer chunks of meat in today’s stew.

After a brief moment of thought, he set down the letters he’d been reading and stood before Claudia.

His long, pale fingers gently wiped the dampness from her eyes as he spoke kindly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“I worry and fear that Your Majesty’s health might suffer like this. At the very least, I wish you could feel at ease when you’re with me.”

“I’ll try. I don’t want to be a burden to you, Your Majesty.”

Igret smiled gently at Claudia, the way one might soothe a child.

His golden hair, pinned high, was warm as sunlight, and his eyes glistened like dew on an apple.

“That’s enough for me. Just knowing you’re making an effort makes me so happy.”

Claudia, her nose pink, grinned like a child, as if she’d never cried at all.

In moments like this, Igret would suddenly remember their very first meeting.

He could still see Claudia shining so brightly in that barren, ruined place.

And the wounded soul that had stood at her side.

“Lugo hasn’t grown much, but he seems to have gotten bigger all of a sudden. His feathers are even prettier now.”

Igret glanced at the birdcage beside them, smoothly changing the subject.

For a moment, Claudia’s lips trembled—but she quickly collected herself.

“He’ll be an adult soon. I showered him with love, so he grew fast. Such a good boy.”

Smiling, Claudia reached into the cage and took out her pet bird, stroking its blue feathers with long, delicate fingers, gazing at it fondly.

“Will a child grow this quickly, too? I wonder when I’ll get to hold one in my arms… If it happens, I think just seeing the child will make me happy.”

A child who resembles Your Majesty.

“Don’t be impatient, Empress.”

“I guess I’m still lacking in many ways. To become a mother, I’ll need more patience… I suppose God is giving me time to learn that.”

Claudia laughed brightly, trying to sound nonchalant.

Igret responded by patting her slender hand a couple of times and refilling her empty teacup.

“Now that I think about it, was it today?”

Claudia looked up at him in surprise.

As he filled her cup, he slid the coaster over to her.

“Duke Liston’s wedding, I mean. I heard he’s marrying into the House of Charlotte.”

“Yes, I heard about it through the head maid a little while ago. I’m glad he found someone before too much more time passed. The Liston family will need an heir before long, too.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to go? You two go way back.”

Claudia thought for a moment, then shook her head and simply smiled as she picked up her teacup.

“I’d rather not get caught up in unnecessary rumors. My presence might become Your Majesty’s weakness. I’m sure Carlisle will understand my situation.”

The sweet scent of hibiscus teased her nose, and her reddened eyes curved gently.

Suddenly, Claudia’s face lit up with playful mischief.

“Instead, I sent a little gift. I do hope the young lady of Charlotte enjoys it.”

“A gift?”

Claudia sipped her tea, pausing for a moment.

A mysterious smile spread across her lips, and in the reflection of her clear eyes, the image of an empty birdcage shimmered.

***

Relentless eyes pressed against her skin.

Like a cunning predator, he had granted her all the time in the world, just to watch her fear blossom on its own.

Be useful.

Of all the words she’d heard through four lifetimes, Leilia was certain these were the ones she’d heard most often.

Carlisle despised and hated anything worthless, and those standards didn’t stop with himself—they extended to everyone around him as well.

Was it during her second regression?

There was a banquet, and she’d taken a bad fall.

All the food she’d prepared was ruined, and she’d broken dozens of imported wine glasses.

She’d become the target of everyone’s concern and ridicule, when, just like a prince on a white horse, her husband had appeared.

If she had to describe that day, it felt as though the darkness around her had suddenly cleared.

Simply having Carlisle Liston by her side had made her feel so secure—something he could never possibly understand.

“I’m not badly hurt. I’m fine…!”

“Don’t make yourself worthless.”

But reality was far closer to tragedy than to comedy.

Instead of asking if she was hurt, he lashed her with an invisible whip, and Leilia met his eyes—cold, full of contempt.

She had no idea how many tears she shed that night.

Her heart ached more than her swollen, twisted ankle or her bloodied, battered knees.

You looked at me with those same eyes, even back then.

Maybe it was because those memories had become faded and distant; now, facing that gaze, Leilia didn’t feel pain so much as a cold, distant curiosity.

She blinked her wide eyes slowly and gave a small, deliberate nod.

As her red lips parted, a warm breath slipped out between them.

“Don’t test me again, Duchess Liston. Be obedient. Don’t bark. Just do as you’re told. If you do, I’ll make sure to treat you well.”

A cold, twisted smile played on Carlisle’s lips, staking his claim.

His savage fingers traced her lips in a sticky caress, locking eyes with her.

Unlike the tense silence from moments before, Leilia’s mouth slowly curved into a smile.

For the first time, he was the one caught off guard by her reaction.

Noticing something off, his brows drew together as he stared intently at her.

“Even a house dog gets fed.”

Leilia said, letting her body relax as she turned her gaze aside.

His persistent eyes burned against her cheek, as if searching for understanding.

A soft, dry laugh slipped from her lips, low and rough, echoing through the cold air.

“What?”

“If you want a mutt to guard your house, you’ve got to feed it. That’s what most people would call a business relationship. Maybe it’s because you’re just a merchant at heart… You can’t help but run the numbers, can you?”

“Looks like you have more to learn than I thought. Apparently, no one’s taught you about balancing profit and loss—or the basic courtesy a wife owes her husband.”

“If our negotiations have fallen through, this is the least of it.”

“There’s nothing for either of us to gain by provoking each other.”

“You were the one who provoked me first.”

Though their skin touched, the tension between them never eased.

The air turned icy, as if doused in cold water, and for a moment, a flicker of menace passed over Carlisle’s usually indifferent eyes.

How much time passed like that?

The two pairs of eyes met in midair, refusing to yield. Then—hic!—a noise interrupted, and Leilia slowly shifted her gaze.

There at the entrance, red-faced and shuffling her feet, was Timo, who had come in at some point without anyone noticing.

Leilia’s brows pinched together, lips pressed tight.

Carlisle, finding it all amusing, silently chuckled as he finally straightened, unfastening his shirt buttons as he stood.

“A new face. Are you new staff?”

“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt—!”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Carlisle’s sharp voice made Timo’s face crumple in distress.

Afraid to even make eye contact, Timo kept her eyes fixed on the floor as she replied, voice trembling pathetically.

“M-my name is Timo. I’m Lady Leilia’s—no, the Duchess Liston’s personal maid. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.”

Her voice shook with terror, hands clasped in a vain attempt to keep from shaking.

The oppressive atmosphere weighed her down, and it was all she could do not to collapse.

“How long do you plan to just stand there?”

“Ah! I-I brought your attire for the banquet. If you could wait just a moment, I’ll help you change—!”

A quick glance at Carlisle’s torso revealed a web of deep, dark scars.

For a moment, Timo nearly screamed, barely managing to stifle it.

But the sight was so gruesome, her entire body trembled.

He closed the distance and, as if snatching it, took the attire from her hands.

Carlisle cast off his shirt without hesitation, pulling on the banquet attire and calmly buttoning it up.

In a level voice, he spoke as he fastened the diamond cufflinks on his broad wrists.

“If you keep acting like this, you’ll be out on the street before the banquet’s even over.”

At his words, Timo bit her lips, swallowing back tears.

Carlisle smirked as if none of this concerned him.

“People like you are a dime a dozen. Absolutely nothing special.”

“Duke Liston,”

Leilia called softly, fixing him with a warning glare. But he was unmoved.

“I started from the very bottom. I don’t have patience for people with rough edges. That’s why I get angry when I see someone like you.”

Carlisle’s low mutter drove Timo back against the wall.

His large hand clamped around her throat, and Timo’s face went pale as she froze in place.

Red marks started to appear beneath her skin.

“Carlisle Liston!”

Leilia’s sharp voice cut through the room as she strode forward.

Was this his punishment for her earlier defiance?

Though his grip was harsh, his gaze was still fixed on Leilia.

“If you don’t want to end up as a mere substitute, prove your worth.”

He released Timo, each word cold and deliberate.

Then he sneered.

“And try not to cry—or bark—too much.”