Previously
During a violent storm, Irenia witnesses Caesar undergo a terrifying physical transformation into a beast-like state with black scales and claws. Terrified, she accidentally cuts her hand with a dagger, and the scent of her blood draws the transformed Caesar to her.
I was awakened by the scrape of an iron bolt being drawn back. Sunlight slipped through the shattered window; morning had evidently arrived. Caesar remained fast asleep, his head buried in my lap.
“To end up as nothing more than a corpse remover… what a joke.”
“I’m itching to see just how wild he’s gone this time.”
“Stay sharp. One of us could easily get bitten again, like before.”
“Let’s just get this over with quickly and catch some rest.”
“Sedatives strong enough to drop an elephant didn’t even keep him down for an hour…!”
The men’s voices were gratingly loud.
Those stepping into the room were the very same knights who had brought Caesar the previous evening. Their expressions were set with grim resolve. One held a cudgel, another gripped iron chains, and the rest hauled a heavy net as they crept cautiously inside.
My eyes met one of theirs.
“Oh?”
If he shouted like that, he would undoubtedly wake Caesar. Slowly, I lifted a finger to my lips and whispered.
“Shh…”
Dumbfounded shock struck their faces, as though they were looking at a ghost. They froze in their tracks, their complexions draining to a corpse-like pallor. One of them dropped his cudgel, sending a deafening clatter echoing through the silence.
“Grrr…”
Just as I feared, the noise stirred Caesar awake. He snarled with bared fangs, radiating raw menace. The sheer ferocity he had displayed last night was not easily forgotten. Even with his head still in my lap, his tense frame and bulging muscles coiled to strike at any moment.
“No… do not do that!”
I called out to him, pressing gently down on his shoulder. Then the unexpected happened… he came to a sudden halt, as if he had actually heard and understood me.
“Not… do that?”
He parroted my words in an echoing murmur, just as he had done the night before.
I nodded firmly, placing deliberate weight on every word.
“Yes. You must not do that.”
I ran my fingers calmly through his hair. I was far too exhausted to endure any more chaos.
Caesar studied me with mild bewilderment, tilting his head from side to side. Yes, just remain quiet like that.
At that very moment, a servant stepped in from the outside.
“What is taking so long? Why are you dragging your feet over hauling out a single corpse?”
“Well, the truth is…”
His gaze drifted slowly between my face and the knights’ stunned expressions.
Bit by bit, every trace of color drained from his face, replaced by sheer, unadulterated shock.
“I must report this to His Majesty the Emperor at once!”
From there, total bedlam broke out.
A massive crowd swarmed the room: the head chamberlain, court wizards, physicians, and even the High Priest from the imperial parish.
“Good heavens!”
Every last one of them began crying out the name of the divine.
“It is a miracle!”
“The Flores bloodline truly is exceptional!”
It appeared everyone had fully anticipated my death. The personal physician even conducted an exhaustive search over my body for any concealed injuries beyond the gash across my palm.
The High Priest went a step further, staging a peculiar ritual to confirm I had not perished and returned as some demonic abomination. He sprinkled me with holy water and pressed a crucifix to my forehead and hands.
Once the frenzy finally subsided, an imperial lady-in-waiting entered to inspect the upturned room. Catching sight of the blood-stained bedding, she promptly gathered it up and took it away.
And just like that, my marriage to Caesar became an indisputable, accomplished fact.
“What did you say?”
Empress Cornelia froze upon hearing the shocking report brought by Countess Elvira, her closest confidante. Just moments ago, she had been beaming like an excited girl over the prospect of designing a new gown, but every ounce of that delight evaporated instantly. Her face turned increasingly pale.
“Duke Flores’s daughter… that girl…”
Countess Elvira nearly let slip the word “bastard,” but she hastily caught herself and bit her lower lip.
Cornelia had been Emperor Guido’s mistress since his days as crown prince. As the mother of the Second Prince, Matthias, she had not been crowned empress until after the demise of Adelaide, the Emperor’s legitimate wife and the mother of the First Prince, Caesar.
Because Matthias had been born of an illicit liaison, it had taken a considerable amount of time for him to be officially recognized as a legitimate prince. Consequently, the word “bastard” was entirely unfit to utter in Empress Cornelia’s presence.
“She survived?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Waving away the maid stationed at her side, she took up a glass from a silver platter and drained the wine in a single draught.
“How intriguing…”
She reclined against the back of her chair, drifting into contemplative reverie. Her beauty remained utterly mesmerizing, possessing the radiance of youth despite her approaching her forties.
“Fascinating indeed…”
Her long fingernails tapped lightly against the armrest before she abruptly shifted her posture. Her luminous blue eyes seemed like piercing shards of glacial ice.
“And where is the First Prince?”
“In the Emerald Wing, Your Majesty.”
A sharp, razor-thin smile cut across Cornelia’s lips, her eyes glittering with malice. Her gaze had already settled upon the blood-stained sheet—the undeniable evidence of consummation—and there was simply no disputing what had taken place.
“Dispose of that thing.”
With an elegant flick of her crimson-lacquered nails, a maid sprang forward and hurled the linen into the blazing fireplace.
“Now that they are officially wed, suitable quarters must be arranged for them.”
Her fingers tapped against the wood once more.
Countess Elvira lifted her gaze, meeting the Empress’s mocking stare.
“What do you intend to do, Your Majesty?”
Cornelia broke into a wide, languid smile, followed by a breathy chuckle.
“Assign her to the Emerald Wing.”
Another derisive snicker parted her lips, mirrored by a covert glance from Elvira.
“As you command, Your Majesty.”
The Countess dipped into a low bow. Yet Cornelia tilted her head ever so slightly and asked:
“What was her name again? I seem to have forgotten.”
“Irenia, Your Majesty.”
“Ah, yes. Irenia. They drop dead so quickly, it is hard to keep track.”
A round of muffled giggles rippled among the ladies-in-waiting, and Cornelia smiled with tired amusement.
“How long will this one manage to hold on? Who can say… perhaps she will usurp my place in the end.”
The attendants shifted awkwardly, rendered utterly speechless, and Cornelia waved them away with an unmistakable air of exhaustion.
Yet before Countess Elvira could take her leave, Cornelia called her back once more.
“Inform her that I wish to invite her for tea shortly.”
“…By your will, Your Majesty.”
I was not afforded a single breath of respite until late that evening. My nerves had remained strung tight every waking second, utterly drained from being paraded before one person after another and fielding unending rounds of questioning.
The moment word reached me that the Empress had assigned me private lodgings, a wave of relief washed over me… right until I laid eyes on the Emerald Wing.
· · ·
I stared in stony silence at Countess Elvira, who had escorted me there. She swept an appraising glance from my head down to my toes, her lips curling into a scornful sneer.
“You are well aware, Your Highness, that all of this occurred rather abruptly.”
She then added with cool indifference that arranging suitable accommodations on such short notice had proven far from simple.
The wing sat perched at the palace’s most remote, forgotten periphery, as though thoroughly cast aside. It was abundantly clear the place had sat abandoned for years. Not a trace of upkeep or maintenance remained; its exterior practically breathed dereliction.
Though I had been an unwanted outcast in Duke Flores’s household, I was hardly devoid of standards. I had grown up in an estate that was invariably spotless and well-kept, sustained by the Duke’s vast wealth.
This place, by contrast… looked entirely forsaken.
Even the garden… calling it a garden felt like a stretch. It was far closer to a barren wasteland. Gnarls of choking weeds and twisted briars grew parched and sinister. I could do nothing but sigh.
“Please step inside.”
The gate of the Emerald Wing had clearly not budged in ages; it only gave way after several servants pooled their strength against it, yielding an ominous shriek as it crept slowly open.
“We beg your pardon, Your Highness. It seems we were not quite fully prepared.”
On Countess Elvira’s face, as she uttered those polite words, there was not the faintest hint of genuine apology despite her smile. In fact, her features remained completely unreadable.
As for what she meant by being “not quite prepared,” the implication was glaringly obvious—at least from where I stood: nobody had expected me to survive, and now that I had, they had no idea what to do with my existence.
The interior proved even more dismal. The air hung so damp and moldy that you could half-expect a rat to scurry across the floorboards at any second. It had plainly sat untouched for an eternity. Dust blanketed every surface, and thick cobwebs draped from every ceiling corner. Quite frankly, an immediate urge to turn around and flee washed over me.
“Are you dissatisfied with these quarters?”
Countess Elvira inquired with guarded care, as if scrutinizing my every reaction. A faint, derisive smile curved inwardly beneath my composure.
“On the contrary, I find it quite charming, though…”
I deliberately drew out the final word, lifting my chin to meet her gaze with cool condescension, and noted the suppressed anticipation flickering beneath her eyes as she waited for the rest.
“Though…?”
FADE OUT