The Crown Prince’s bedroom was vast and immaculate.

The cutlery adorning the table, set to face a night sky that seemed poised to rain starlight, was refined and exquisite.

The wine in the semi-transparent glass bottle was from Brienne.

Amelia found the entire scene deeply unpleasant.

“What is this?”

Her voice was calm yet low as she repeated the question, openly expressing her displeasure. She directed her gaze, unfiltered and filled with frustration, toward Josef, who stood silently observing her.

“Wasn’t our agreement that I would only serve as your companion at night?”

“…”

“And now, you’re demanding I cater to your whims even outside the bedroom?”

Josef’s lips twisted into a crooked smile, but his eyes remained cold.

“Is that truly what you’ve thought all this time?”

“Isn’t it true?”

The two chairs, positioned so closely together that their occupants would have to sit knee to knee, offered no other interpretation.

To Amelia, this felt like yet another attempt to treat her as part of the décor, another piece of ornamentation meant to bring Josef satisfaction. The thought filled her with a quiet rage.

“Your Highness has already won,” she said, suppressing the wave of sorrow threatening to overtake her voice.

“I lost, and you won. But surely, you can’t wish to humiliate me further.”

“…”

“So things like this…”

“Unless…”

Josef interrupted her.

“Unless this isn’t about giving me pleasure. What then?”

“…”

“Would you sit down if that were the case?”

Amelia, who had been glaring at him with icy defiance, finally opened her mouth.

“Then what is it supposed to mean?”

“It was never a command to begin with,” Josef replied, picking up the bottle. He tilted it, pouring wine into a glass. The liquid flowed generously into one glass and far more sparingly into the other.

“It’s Brienne wine. I thought you’d like it, so I offered,” he explained.

“…”

“I wasn’t planning to force it down your throat.”

Was that his way of saying that if it had been a command, he would have shoved the bottle into her mouth? Amelia, consumed by her disdain for Josef, couldn’t help but interpret his words in the worst light.

Josef turned away from her and pulled out a chair, seating himself casually. Without missing a beat, he lifted his glass and took a sip, his expression feigning indifference.

“The taste is atrocious,” he commented.

“…”

“Do they really sell this as a regional specialty in Brienne?”

“…”

“What do you think, my lady?”

Amelia could tell he was provoking her. Yet, her pride compelled her to step toward the table and sit across from him.

The glass in front of her held only enough wine to barely cover the bottom. Amelia downed it in one swift motion, then met Josef’s gaze squarely.

“I think it’s quite good.”

“Did you even taste it properly?”

“It was just a small amount.”

As Amelia reached for the wine bottle, Josef stopped her with a faintly amused expression.

“Take it slow.”

This time, he poured her a bit more, though still less than half a glass.

‘The Crown Prince himself, deigning to serve me wine. How exceedingly generous,’ Amelia thought sarcastically as she raised the glass again.

Perhaps she had been too quick the first time to notice, but now she could appreciate the distinctive qualities of the Brienne wine.

“…”

Its pale olive hue carried a faint apple aroma. The flavor reminded her of the wines served during her debutante ball, the harvest festival’s final evening, and her father’s birthday banquet.

She turned her gaze away from the table. The lattice-patterned window divided the night sky into segments, while the Milky Way gleamed like a luminous white sand beach. It was mesmerizing, a sight one could never tire of.

Everything was beautiful, and none of it mattered to her.

Amelia’s heart was as parched as a drought-stricken wilderness, cracked and barren. Even tears refused to come.

“More, please.”

She held out her glass as if trying to quench that arid wasteland within her.

“…”

Josef silently regarded her for a moment before lifting the bottle again to refill her glass.

They drank the wine in silence until the bottle was empty. Not a single word passed between them, a fact that would have struck any observer as odd.

***

Amelia woke in the middle of the night.

Her eyes fluttered open, briefly tempted to close again under the cozy weight of exhaustion, but something felt off.

The faint glow of candlelight illuminated a space that was not her bedroom.

“…”

The familiar scent made it clear: she was lying in Josef’s bed. The warmth encircling her back, too, unmistakably belonged to him.

Amelia tried to sit up, but Josef’s arm around her waist refused to budge. His even breathing suggested he was asleep.

“Haah…”

She let out a self-deprecating sigh. So this is how it ends, she thought.

After drinking to excess in front of the Crown Prince, she had fallen asleep like this.

She began recalling moments: leaning against a chair and yawning, Josef checking her condition, and being quietly led by him to lie down on the bed.

Could it be…?

Amelia hastily examined herself. Though her gown had been removed, the knots inside her chemise remained as she had tied them. Moreover, there was no lingering sensation on her body that would typically suggest otherwise. This realization provided some relief—she despised the idea of anything happening while she was unconscious.

Josef’s arm tightened around her, seemingly in response to her slight movements. Amelia froze. Had she woken him?

However, Josef said nothing. She tensed at the sensation of his lips brushing her ear, but that was all. He seemed content with that brief kiss and resumed his faint, rhythmic breathing as he held her.

Outside the window, the sky was deep and dark, with not a hint of dawn’s blue. It was a sign she needed to leave the room before it became too late. Amelia carefully moved Josef’s arm aside and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

As the warmth that had wrapped around her dissipated, her shoulders gave a slight shiver. Slowly, as if something terrifying lay behind her, Amelia turned to glance back.

“…”

Josef was still asleep. His composed face betrayed no trace of inebriation. His unbuttoned shirt revealed the outline of his chest muscles and small scars.

His body bore a few such marks. Although Amelia had never inquired about them, their long and thin shapes suggested they were the result of being pierced by swords or spears.

While currently hidden by his clothing, Josef’s shoulder bore a deep scar that seemed to have once been gouged out and then healed. It resembled the kind of wound left by a large beast biting and releasing its prey.

Was that scar from the war too? Sometimes, she was curious about the stories behind them, but she never asked. She saw no need to involve herself in his affairs.

Her gown was neatly folded by the bedside table. After putting it on, Amelia tugged the blanket over Josef’s torso and left the bedroom.

***

Seated in the emperor’s study and reviewing documents, Chancellor Konrad widened his eyes in disbelief.

“Your Majesty, are you truly granting the lands of the village of Szcern to Baroness Greta?”

“Yes, I’ve decided as much.”

The emperor nodded, seemingly pleased with Konrad’s startled reaction.

“Will Duke Mieschko accept this?”

Konrad’s tone was tinged with concern, even as he grappled with the unexpected news.

The village of Szcern, located within the capital, contained royal lands. These lands had originally belonged to the Mieschko family but were offered to the crown as a gesture of support when the emperor decided to go to war.

To give such land to his mistress—Baroness Greta—was astonishing. While it might be personally gratifying for Konrad, given his familial connection to Greta, the thought of ministers gossiping about it made his feelings complicated.

“Duke Mieschko has already formed ties with the imperial family,” the emperor said brusquely, adding that Marika, once married to Josef, would become royalty anyway. It wouldn’t make sense for a father to fuss over such trivial sentiments.

In the emperor’s eyes, the Mieschko family’s wealth might as well already belong to the crown.

“…”

“Now then.”

The emperor urged Konrad, who had fallen silent, to speak.

“What did you uncover about the crown prince?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Konrad replied, pushing aside his unnecessary thoughts.

“A maid confessed that it seems His Highness is bringing a woman into his chambers.”

The chancellor had gathered this information from a maid responsible for cleaning Josef’s bedroom, and her account largely aligned with the emperor’s suspicions.

The crown prince was spending longer periods in his chambers. Recently, he had even ordered the table to be decorated. However, no carriages had been seen arriving, and there was no outward sign of anyone coming or going.

“Do you truly believe the woman is Lady Amelia?”

“There’s no one else it could be.”

The emperor scoffed. He didn’t need anyone to confirm it. When Josef spoke of Brienne, his eyes had burned with desire. By now, his reason and judgment would have been reduced to ashes in that blaze.

“Should I inform Duke Mieschko?”

“No.”

The emperor shook his head at Konrad’s suggestion.

“Keep this matter quiet for now. Make sure the maid keeps her mouth shut as well.”

“Your Majesty?”

Konrad’s expression turned questioning.

“Are you planning to use this situation for something?”

The emperor laughed heartily, a sound that might have seemed benevolent to an outsider.

“He’s creating his own weaknesses. There’s no need to interfere.”

Josef was his son. Just as the emperor had once believed himself to be in complete control of everything, Josef likely believed the same.

The crown prince would inevitably make a mistake. The emperor had no doubt that day would come.