Chapter 8
It was likely because I had dropped a hint about the conversation I’d had during my private meeting with Raymon.
I deliberately stomped my feet in a feigned tantrum, grinding the shards of the shattered teacup scattered on the floor beneath my heels.
Ugh, I cut myself. That stings!
But this was Titania—a girl who constantly rubbed her heels and toes raw in new shoes that never quite fit.
She was in the middle of a fit; there was no way she’d let a tiny little cut dampen her rage…
“He said, he, he—Raymon said I looked so shabby I didn’t even fit in the Imperial Palace!”
Crunch!
Sorry, roses!
I grabbed a fistful of roses decorating the wall and tore them apart, scattering the petals as if consumed by fury.
While putting on this fragrant display of destruction, I began to rant and rave again.
“He mocked me! He mocked me! This is all your fault!”
“Oh dear… Did Young Duke Raymon truly say such things?”
Mary’s gaze turned subtle. Sarah exchanged a look with her before drifting closer toward me.
A flicker of the usual contempt and ridicule brushed across their faces. At that point, I deliberately shut my mouth, looking as though my feelings were deeply hurt.
“Now, now, Imperial Princess Titania. Getting this angry is bad for your health. Why don’t we move elsewhere? You can have a cup of sweet cocoa and tell us all about what’s upsetting you.”
Mary coaxed me in a sugary voice. They usually restricted my sweets, claiming I needed to manage my appearance, yet they were quick to offer them at times like this.
Not a single person here would give me a piece of their mind and say, ‘You are the dignity of the Imperial Family, so you should refine your character instead of taking your anger out on servants and objects.’
Then again, even if a maid dared to say such a thing, she’d likely be punished for offending the Princess.
More importantly, they were under orders to intentionally fuel Titania’s temper.
Acting like a stubborn child who had thrown a long enough tantrum but was now wavering at the prospect of sweets, I let my eyes wander. Seeing this, Sarah slipped away as if her job were done.
It was right then.
“Her Highness, 1st Imperial Consort Cleo den Atri Hamastion, has arrived.”
Natalie, who I’d wondered about, appeared alongside the uninvited guest.
I was impressed.
Wow. I expected it, but she’s fast.
I didn’t think the mid-boss—or rather, the woman positioned between the mid-boss and the final boss—would come in person.
“Princess.”
A woman with a bright smile walked toward me, her steps light and airy. Judging by appearances alone, she was exceptionally young and beautiful. A mole, clearly placed there intentionally, sat vividly near her right eye, giving her a feline allure.
Her dress, made of multiple layers of gossamer-thin white silk, revealed glimpses of her skin. Atop her elegantly swept-up blue hair sparkled an orange diamond hair ornament gifted by the Emperor, nicknamed the ‘Ocean of Stars.’
It was an ostentatious outfit in every way.
Especially considering that the ‘Ocean of Stars’ was a jewel traditionally passed down to the Empress, yet the Emperor had caused an absolute uproar by bestowing it upon an Imperial Consort instead.
“I heard you were very ill. Oh, what ever shall we do…?”
She blinked as if in genuine pity, but the gaze measuring me was razor-sharp.
The Empire was originally monogamous. Mistresses taken by noble families were not granted any legal status.
However, the Emperor was the only one permitted to have concubines.
Of course, the number was limited: three Imperial Consorts and two Palace Consorts.
An Imperial Consort generally had to come from a noble family or higher, while those of commoner status or lower entered as Palace Consorts.
Even if they bore imperial children, only the children of an Imperial Consort were treated with any modicum of respect.
Well, even so, the Emperors through the generations hadn’t always filled all five slots. It was rare for them to even fill all three Imperial Consort positions.
Yet, the reason the current lecherous Emperor lived with only two Imperial Consorts was entirely due to this woman’s resourcefulness.
“I am at peace, thanks to your grace, Imperial Consort-nim.”
Despite my words, I turned my head away and pouted, acting as though my anger hadn’t fully subsided and I was still upset.
“My, my. Whatever has made our Princess so cross?”
The Imperial Consort smiled with her eyes and stroked my cheek as if watching a kitten’s tantrum. The alluring scent brushing my nose and the soft touch of her fingers were tender enough to entice any naive child.
She had originally planned to kill me the moment she bore a daughter of her own. However, after giving birth to the 1st Imperial Prince, Brian, she suffered repeated miscarriages and eventually became infertile.
So, she left me alone and used me. Had I not known all those facts, I might have been slightly swayed.
No matter if the other person is the child of an Imperial Consort, they cannot dare use casual speech with the Emperor’s child unless they are the Empress. They are supposed to use formal language with one another.
However, who would dare advise the great 1st Imperial Consort Cleo—the Emperor’s favorite mistress—to show a bit more etiquette to a neglected Princess?
“Hmph, Imperial Consort-nim. What if… what if Raymon thinks I’m ugly?”
So, I looked up at her with a face on the verge of tears, acting for all the world like a child throwing a tantrum before the only adult who treated her kindly.
I saw her blink her cat-like, slender eyes and gesture behind her, silently dismissing the maids.
1st Imperial Consort Cleo treated Titania as if she were a pet.
While practically not caring for her at all, she showered her with sweet platitudes and meaningless gifts.
She did this so the child, who hadn’t received even a crumb of attention from the adults around her, would depend on her.
So that the child, parched for sweet but nutritionally void attention, wouldn’t realize her teeth were rotting and her limbs were crumbling away.
She practiced a form of gaslighting that whispered, ‘I am the only one who loves you when even your own mother doesn’t.’
But I felt a phantom shiver every time the arm of the Imperial Consort, who was pretending to embrace me tenderly, brushed against me.
Because she was undoubtedly the one who had directly contributed to Titania’s ruin.
Pretending to cherish her like a daughter and making her follow her lead—the moment ‘Bibi’ appeared, the adopted daughter of the Duchy of Castline who received everyone’s love, she abandoned Titania immediately. It was all to scout the possibility of a new marriage alliance.
Then again, it was nothing new. It was Imperial Consort Cleo who cleaned up after all the women the lecherous Emperor constantly laid hands on.
Though he was the eldest son, Prince Brian lacked legitimacy compared to Adrian, who was born of the Empress.
It meant that if an Imperial Prince born to some random woman the Emperor touched were to show any brilliance, their position could become precarious.
So, she personally scouted women of low status but decent looks and offered them to the Emperor, then killed them without a trace once his interest waned.
The Emperor knew but feigned ignorance. It was much easier to condone the Imperial Consort, who provided him with entertainment and handled the aftermath perfectly, than to deal with the hassle of increasing the number of concubines.
“Why do you think that?”
“Well…”
Though she was paying attention to Titania and grooming her, Titania was currently a fruit she couldn’t yet eat.
Rather, her focus was on using Titania to probe and spy on the state of the Duchy of Castline—specifically, Young Duke Raymon.
So, whether Titania threw a fit, smashed the furniture, lived, or died, it wouldn’t have mattered to her.
The reason she had come here specifically was…
“…He said if you truly love and like someone, it doesn’t matter what they look like. He said the battlefield is always full of the smell of blood and dirty, weak people… So I thought the Young Duke might say I was pretty even if I was sick.”
I deliberately acted with a cracking voice and avoided her gaze.
Cleo’s eyes grew cunning.
…It was likely because Titania, whom she expected to call a priest, get treated, and go out perfectly dressed, had instead done something ‘strange’ by insisting on meeting the Young Duke while sick and injured.
Cleo was quick-witted. To be precise, she had a keen intuition regarding those she had marked for her own use.
However, as she looked down at the young Princess who was staring at the floor in frustration and disappointment with flushed cheeks, I felt the look in her eyes change to one of ‘I thought as much.’
Once again, it was laughable. She hadn’t visited even when the child was said to be hovering between life and death and had barely regained consciousness.
Yet she came in person just to pry into the details of the private meeting with Young Duke Raymon? If Titania had truly been a clueless child, it might have worked, but her intentions were far too transparent.
“Princess.”
Imperial Consort Cleo’s voice turned even more manipulative. Reaching out a hand as if being tender, she tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and spoke in a feigned tone of worry.
“Well, it can’t be helped. Because until now, Princess, you have always faced Young Duke Raymon with a beauty more radiant than anyone else’s, looking like someone he couldn’t dare touch.”
In other words, until now, Imperial Consort Cleo had been framing Raymon’s disgusted reactions as, ‘He’s intentionally acting like he dislikes you because it wouldn’t suit his dignity to dare flirt with a noble woman of the Imperial Family first’…
What kind of otherworldly logic was that?
