Previously
Panicked by Caesar's literal interpretation of the storybook's eggs, Irenia lies and tells him that holding hands while sleeping is how children are made. The next morning, the palace staff mistakenly assume the marriage was consummated after inspecting the bedsheets.
Celestina’s brows rose a fraction as the Duchess of Flores opened her folding fan halfway. The breeze caressing her face was entirely calm, yet that solitary gesture alone was enough to betray her feelings.
“S-surely your eldest daughter’s virtues and renown are unmatched. I heard she turned every head the moment she debuted into society last year, did she not?”
With that belated flattery, the tension hanging in the room finally slackened. Clementine let out a quiet breath of relief as she poured the tea.
“My daughter was recently chosen to serve as companion to Her Majesty the Empress, so she will be entering the imperial palace shortly. I trust you will select a gown befitting her standing.”
“As it happens, I have something truly special reserved for exceptional young ladies.”
At the word “special,” Giovinetta’s ears perked with interest. Here, Clementine’s gentle, polished tone proved its true worth.
“This gown takes after the style worn by the Princess of Etrero, though it is far more luxurious. The finest silk and jeweled embroidery were used without sparing a single expense, making it truly breathtaking. It will easily be this year's defining creation.”
“May I have it, Mother? Please?”
“Please tailor several pieces of that caliber for her.”
Clementine rejoiced inwardly; as demanding as her client was, she was equally generous with her purse.
“Very well. I shall have the finished garments delivered to your estate by special courier.”
“I shall be expecting them.”
Clementine saw the mother and daughter off with a broad smile, and the luxurious Flores carriage set off toward the mansion.
Having spent a fortune on the gown, Giovinetta was in high spirits. As the girl hummed softly while admiring the bonnet and ribbons she had bought earlier, Celestina could not hide her concern. Despite having come of age, she still seemed so very young.
“You will soon enter the palace to attend Her Majesty the Empress. Mind your conduct.”
Giovinetta looked away, adjusting the lavishly adorned bonnet on her head.
“I know that very well.”
She straightened up and pouted at her mother, who offered a polite, measured smile in return.
“You know that your beauty must outshine everyone else’s.”
Giovinetta’s face darkened at once.
“I just hope I turn more heads than she does.”
She chewed her lip and picked at her thumb as if wishing to bite her nails, stirring Celestina’s pity.
“Do not fret. When you put on that gown, you will be the loveliest of all.”
Giovinetta’s eyes gleamed with excitement.
“Will I be able to catch the princes’ attention as well?”
“Do not even think of it. Don't you dare.”
The Duchess spoke with stern finality.
“But they say the Second Prince is extraordinarily handsome, don't they? I couldn't see him last year because he was abroad.”
Celestina’s expression grew entirely serious as she replied,
“That man is not someone you should ever approach.”
“And why is that?”
Celestina gave a faint smile.
There was an inherent blemish clinging to the Second Prince, Matthias.
“He is the son of the Empress from when she was merely a concubine.”
In other words, he bore the indelible brand of an illegitimate child. No matter how high Cornelia had climbed to the seat of Empress, shaking off her past was no easy feat.
For all of Crown Prince Caesar’s psychological torment, he remained the legitimate heir to the throne by birthright, which had preserved the unwavering support of the traditionalists and royal allies to this day.
While Caesar’s mother, the late Empress Adelaide, had been a royal princess of the Kingdom of Isabria, Cornelia was merely the daughter of a minor official from a remote province. Her family had even lost their noble title over involvement in the forbidden slave trade.
In truth, Cornelia had been nothing more than a humble maid in the palace who caught the Emperor’s eye by chance to become his mistress. To this day, rumors of her low birth still circulated.
“The Second Prince also has a terrible reputation when it comes to women. You must never involve yourself with him.”
“I understand.”
Yet Giovinetta’s curiosity about the Second Prince was already sparked. Noticing this, Celestina sharpened her tone:
“I said no. Do not even dream of it.”
“Ugh, I said I understood.”
“Focus instead on the suitors with whom you ought to make a good impression.”
“Yes, yes, I've heard that until my ears bleed. You mean the son of Marquis Romero and the cousin of the King of Ithaca, don’t you?”
Despite Celestina’s gravity, neither suitor appealed to Giovinetta in the slightest. The Marquis's son was thirty and still unmarried, with rumors suggesting he was hopelessly inept with women, not to mention having a mouse-like face and an oversized head.
As for the cousin of the King of Ithaca, she had met him during the previous social season; he was insufferably arrogant about his royal blood, a perpetual drunkard who reeked of sour wine, and possessed an unsightly paunch that made looking at him sickening.
“Regardless, the matter is settled.”
“Understood.”
Giovinetta sighed as she peered out the window. Bright spring blossoms were in full bloom outside. Yet despite the gorgeous season, a cold knot formed in her chest.
How could she possibly squander her youth on such worthless men?
Caesar was reading a book when he paused, parted his lips, and began to speak. I didn't know how, but I knew precisely what he was about to say—we had replayed this exact exchange dozens of times already.
“When will you lay it?”
“Huh?”
Just as I thought. His relentless barrage of questions was enough to fluster me every single time.
Feigning ignorance, I asked,
“Lay what?”
“The fruit of love.”
Ever since the night we spent together, he had not stopped asking these kinds of questions. I looked around hurriedly, terrified someone might overhear scandalous words like ‘lay’ and ‘fruit of love.’
Fortunately, the attendants stationed near the door seemed not to have heard a thing. I pressed a cautious finger to my lips.
“Shh, we still have to wait.”
“Until when?”
A cold sweat began to creep down my back. Every time this happened, I had to scramble for some way to hush him.
“Um… if we keep talking about it so much, the baby might not come at all.”
“Why?”
There it was again: ‘Why?’ Lately, he seemed to ask ‘why’ about everything.
And why, indeed? I didn't even know myself.
Truth be told, these relentless, mortifying questions made me want to burst into tears.
He leaned closer, whispering,
“Do we need to hold hands more?”
Ugh… that question made my heart seize with embarrassment.
“Y-yes… but not right now.”
I checked around us once more, then leaned close to his ear and whispered,
“We only hold hands when no one is watching.”
The lies were snowballing beyond my control, but I had no other choice.
It was far better than holding hands like broad-daylight lovers for all the world to see.
As for Caesar, in his innocence, he gazed at me with eyes full of hope.
“So no one must see us doing it?”
I lowered my voice even further, and he matched my tone.
“Like last time?”
“Yes, just like last time.”
Back then, I didn't realize how much the scene resembled a pair of lovers sharing an intimate secret.
“All right.”
Convinced by my lie, he nodded and returned to his reading.
He agreed so readily that I felt as if I were committing a terrible sin against his pure heart. I began to seriously think that I needed to find a way out of this mess.
From the start, it was an impossibility. The entire premise was false. After all… I couldn't bear children in the first place.
A few silver coins clattered onto the wooden desk, giving off a dull metallic clink. A rough-fingered hand swept them up firmly, clenching them so hard that their ridges bit into the palm.
Thirty pieces of silver. The price paid to bribe a maid from the Green Jade Palace.
And the information bought with that sum was simple: that girl had spent last night with Prince Caesar.
“He must feel as though he has found his own little world.”
Mercedes murmured mockingly as she opened her palm, revealing a battered silver coin resting against a prominent bruise.
Among the currencies circulating within the Asitria Empire, the Rosentaria Silver was the most widely used. Its minting had begun back when the Empire was merely a kingdom, issued directly from the capital, which granted it a long history and substantial traditional weight.
In the beginning, the Rosentaria had been minted from one hundred percent pure silver, bearing an embossed profile of the first king.
Over time, however, troubles began to mount; wars, famines, and shifting economic policies gradually chipped away at its silver content.
During the Empire’s wars of expansion, silver trade routes were severed, causing the Rosentaria's purity to plummet below ten percent and igniting the populace's outrage.
Back then, people resorted to melting down what little silver remained, mixing it with copper to mint counterfeit coins.
And the piece resting in her palm was none other than one of those debased counterfeits. She did not need a scale to know; it was conspicuously lighter than genuine coin.
The lesson carried by that single coin was clear: nothing could be taken lightly, for once a single pillar gave way, the rest would soon follow… until everything came crashing down.
FADE OUT