It was a disgraceful act.

The Emperor watched Anita and clicked his tongue to himself.

But it wasn’t over yet.

To firmly anchor the child, who was on the verge of tears, to his son, the Emperor drove in the final wedge.

“Your Majesty!”

A gasp-worthy moment unfolded.

This time, the Emperor knelt.

Before Anita.

It was the same gesture, but utterly different.

Previously, Anita had bowed to the sovereign and her elder, pleading for mercy.

Now, however, the Emperor, the man who stood above all others, was kneeling before his daughter-in-law and his subject.

Had anyone seen, it would have caused a scandal.

Anita rose and tried to step away from him.

She could not dare to touch the Emperor without permission, this was the only respectful way to retreat.

“This is not the Emperor speaking. This is just one man apologizing to you.”

The Emperor seized Anita.

His piercing gaze held her in place as he pressed down on her knees with his knobbly, bony hands, preventing her from standing up.

“Cedric. It was my fault from the start because of that boy. I was the one who chose you to stand beside him. I made you suffer.”

“Your Majesty, please. There’s no need to speak so regretfully. My marriage to the Crown Prince was based on a promise made between our nations many years ago. It was also a path I chose.”

“No, I forced your union. The blame lies with me. I knew what Cedric would do to you.”

Anita was struck speechless.

The Emperor knew.

It wasn’t just that Cedric disliked her vaguely and distantly, he knew how Cedric truly treated her.

How cruelly!

“I expected him to torment you. I even feared he might harm you. And yet, I still called you to his side.”

The words were chilling.

It wasn’t just rejection that he’d anticipated, he’d foreseen violence.  And yet he’d pushed for the marriage.

The fragile trust Anita had placed in the Emperor shattered under the weight of that revelation.

She felt it splinter.

“But Anita…”

His wounded blue eyes wavered and lost focus.

The Emperor felt shame and disillusionment at their emptiness.

“Forgive him. I know he has hurt you deeply. How could I not? But politics aside, none of the way he treats you is acceptable.”

Sometimes, an emperor must put aside morality for the greater good.  The key lies in knowing where to draw the line.  However, once experienced, guilt is not so easily shaken off.

“I knew what would happen. I knew what he would become, and I let it happen. I believed it was for Cedric’s sake. And that belief hasn’t left me.”

The Emperor’s apology was sincere yet selfish.

In truth, it sounded like a plea for Anita to make the ultimate sacrifice for the son he cherished and the nation he believed in.

He also knew.

With both the Callithean royal house and Hardyde on the brink of collapse, Anita had no choice.  In his view, forgiving Cedric and staying with him was her best option.

“Ultimately, it was my ambition that caused this. I forced you to sacrifice yourself for my son. But please, forgive him. This is my apology.”

And so the Emperor asked her for forgiveness.  He lowered himself and knelt in penance.  Desperate to ease the burden on his conscience, he clung to the belief that his chosen path was still the best one for her.

Anita sensed it — dimly, yet unmistakably. The Emperor’s guilt was evident in his trembling eyes; he made no attempt to hide his true feelings. Even when he spoke of comfort and strength, she could sense the underlying intention behind his words.

She clearly and painfully understood that there was no other path left for her. There was no anger to cling to, nor any justice to be sought. Only forgiveness remained.

“Why?”

It was the only word she could utter.

Why?

Why was Cedric tormenting her so relentlessly?

She could understand his hatred, he had lost his mother in a tragedy linked to the former empress. But this cruelty, this unrelenting malice… She couldn’t make sense of it.

“If no one else, you at least deserve to know what happened that day.”

“…..”

“Cedric. Do you know how the mother of that child died? What the circumstances were back then… I doubt you know the details.”

The Emperor coughed weakly, paused to steady his breath, then began to recount the tragedy.

He spoke of Shisha Yullente, the woman who had raised Cedric, and of how close she had been to him.

He spoke of how deeply Cedric had loved his birth mother.

He also spoke of how that same nanny had used Cedric to kill the Empress.

What she said! How she had manipulated him!  She twisted her madness into threats of survival, forcing him to speak and act. She told him it was the right thing to do. That it was divine. She even made him pray to the goddess in gratitude.

But why did she spare him?

Because she thought his marriage to Anita could serve as penance.

“So that’s why the figs…”

As the emperor continued his story, the color drained from Anita’s face.

The person who had killed his mother was someone as close to him as a mother.

She had used the boy’s hands. She had warped his mind with madness and guilt. And now, Anita understood. It wasn’t just Cedric’s hatred; it was the depth of the wound he carried.

Nausea surged.

As Anita pictured Cedric after he collapsed, a storm of emotions welled up towards the woman who had killed the former empress.

“But what did I ever do to him?”

She understood him yet she didn’t. She could grasp the extent of Cedric’s hatred and grief, but why was she the one who had to bear it? How had she become the target of his revenge?

It felt unjust.

She could accept his loathing for Callithea and the goddess, but she could not fully comprehend it.

Was it simply because she, Callithea, and Hardyde were weak?

If they hadn’t been, would he still have acted like this?

She felt like the woman from an old myth, the one who opened the forbidden box. It was as if she had uncovered a secret too vast to contain.

However, true to her nature, Anita spiraled into self-blame. How horrifying must her exposed emotions have seemed to him?

She writhed in guilt, born of understanding, then clenched her fists in protest.

It wasn’t my fault!

But even that defiance felt selfish.

A whirlwind of emotions — guilt, resentment, empathy and confusion — left her in unbearable turmoil.

She could neither hate Cedric completely nor forgive him entirely.

She found herself resenting the Emperor, who had cast her into this chaos, then stopping, then resenting him again.

It was at that moment, as he watched her expression change, that the Emperor spoke.

“Anita.”

“…”

“I’ve always known you had feelings for Cedric. Even though you knew nothing, you were still kind to him. You were born with a warm heart. That’s why my wife and I chose you for him without hesitation.”

“…..”

“But now, I can’t bring myself to ask you to love him. To cherish him. Please just forgive him. Stay with him a little while longer. Give him a chance. I beg you.”

The Emperor repeatedly confessed his guilt, subtly directing her resentment towards himself as he pleaded for his son’s forgiveness.

Anita, already spiraling into panic, stood in silence. Then, almost imperceptibly, she nodded.

In response, a faint flush returned to the Emperor’s pale face.

Still on his knees, he took her hand.

After hesitating for a moment, he spoke again, seeking certainty.

“I know it’s shameless of me, but I can’t bear it without hearing your answer.”

When he asked her to give him a spoken promise, Anita’s fingers tensed.

With no other option, she had no choice but to comply.

After a long time, her lips finally trembled and she whispered the words he had been longing to hear.

“I will, Your Majesty.”

··· ✦ ···

Cedric stood alone in his chambers, motionless and staring into the corner of the room.

He was held frozen by the weight of confusion.

“A child.”

His wife was pregnant with his child. He didn’t know whether it was a boy or a girl, but he was the only man to have touched her.

That tiny, formless creature, still hidden from the world, had his blood running through its veins.

“Bear a son.”

“Is there a more legitimate or effortless path to power than producing an heir to the throne?”

He’d said it once before, impulsively and without knowing why.

Probably just to mock her. But now, the words he’d tossed out so carelessly had become reality.

Cedric felt as if Anita had hit him over the head.

“Even now…”

She wasn’t someone he’d intended to become empress, let alone the mother of his heir.

It would be best to deal with her before matters became more complicated.

“It might be better for everyone if the entire Hardyde family were to disappear. Perhaps even for her. After all, she would be with her family.”

It could be a good opportunity.

Pregnancy was often a gamble with one’s life.

Just look outside. How many women have fallen into danger while carrying their child?

How many of them lost their lives?

She was fragile to begin with. If tragedy struck suddenly, it wouldn’t be unexpected.

Even if suspicions arose, Callithea was in ruins.

Who would step forward for her sake?

In many ways, now might be the perfect time.