Chapter 12
She looked like a single white lily. Adele lifted her chin slightly and smiled softly. With everyone gauging her reaction, she answered in a solemn voice, paying attention down to the twitch of an eyebrow.
“Pleased to meet you, Lady Poitiers.”
“I prepared the wedding and this banquet—do they please you?”
It was a bold, sharp question. Faced with a banquet arranged by the emperor’s mistress, what would the empress say? The nobles’ eyes glittered slyly as they fixed on her.
But the empress did not answer. With an expressionless face, she merely gazed steadily at Dian. Silence. People were reminded anew that silence, too, could be an answer.
One noblewoman blinking was startled by how loud the sound of her eyelashes brushing together seemed. A hush settled over the hall so deep that such a sound could be heard.
Then, as if nothing had happened, the empress gently lifted her lips into a smile. The gap between the two moments came with a chilling shiver.
“You must have worked hard. Ah—don’t feel hurt that I couldn’t wear the banquet dress you prepared. It was beautiful, and I wanted to, but the size was far too small. I simply couldn’t wear it.”
Only then did the noblewomen realize that the empress was dressed in her wedding gown, and they exchanged glances.
Grinding her teeth at the murmuring around them, Dian spoke in an awkward tone.
“We prepared it according to the measurements sent from Gottorf… It seems the standards were different. I apologize for the inconvenience….”
Just then—
“His Majesty the Emperor arrives!”
As a servant’s voice rang out in the hall where even the music had vanished, the nobles all turned at once. There stood the emperor, who until now had not shown himself at all, his expression rigid.
The nobles stepped back in unison to make way, and Karl walked through them toward the imperial throne.
The empress held the room in her grasp yet again. She was a woman for whom ruling and domination seemed natural—someone who looked as though not a drop of blood would spill even if pricked.
Meanwhile, at the sight of Karl, the tension drained from Dian’s entire body. He was her salvation. Her one and only sun. The tears welling up were never intended.
As tears fell from her softening eyes, the emperor frowned and stopped in front of her. Then he slowly looked back and forth between the empress and Dian. Seeing this, Adele instantly realized what he was thinking.
She’s crying? He thinks I made her cry—now?!
She barely managed to stop her face from twisting into a scowl when the emperor stepped in front of Dian, as if to shield her from the empress. Lennox, hidden among the crowd, watched with satisfaction, while the nobles’ eyes widened and sparkled. Unconsciously, Adele curled one corner of her lips into a smile.
“Your Majesty.”
A delicate voice came from behind him.
Unbelievable. This is new. Should I cry too?
Instinctive rage and irritation surged along her nerves. From the wedding onward, the emperor seemed determined to make the very existence of the empress into a joke. More than Dian Poitiers, the one who grated on Adele’s nerves was the emperor himself.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
That’s what I’d like to ask.
“We were in the middle of exchanging greetings.”
“What sort of greeting leaves someone in tears like this?”
At the emperor’s question, Adele answered while desperately suppressing the rising heat inside her—though her voice naturally sharpened.
“I’m the one who wonders why she’s crying. She came to me herself to offer greetings. If you’re curious as to why, perhaps you should ask the young lady.”
At that, Karl turned to look at Dian. Her face was smeared with fear and tears.
“I… I just… wanted to greet Her Majesty the Empress….”
The emperor stared intently at Dian’s face, as if trying to bore through it. Though it was only a moment, to Adele it felt interminably long.
After a while, the emperor shifted his gaze to the empress. If looks could strangle, Adele would already have suffocated. The two glared at each other. The nobles held their breath, eyes gleaming at the sharp standoff between the imperial couple.
Like a predator eyeing its prey, the emperor slowly advanced on the empress. His footsteps sounded unusually loud. Adele looked up at him as he came right up to her. He stared down at her for a moment, then abruptly turned and sat in his seat.
Once the emperor sat, the orchestra—watching for cues—began to play. As the music flowed, the nobles began to move, and soon the banquet hall was swept into a low murmur.
Leaning languidly against the throne, the emperor took the champagne glass offered by a servant. After a sip and a perfunctory glance around the hall, he tossed a remark toward the empress, who had just taken her seat.
“Pay it no mind.”
Adele, staring straight ahead, slowly turned her head at his voice. The emperor was looking at Dian, who stood in a corner of the hall gazing at him with a wistful expression.
“That woman is my lover. So pay her no mind—that’s what I mean.”
When he finished, the emperor slowly turned to face the empress. With a face utterly devoid of warmth, he added, as if driving in a final nail:
“And I won’t pay any attention to your lover either. Understood?”
Adele’s lips lifted on their own. Truly, what a relief. She had a habit of laughing whenever she was in a foul mood.
“Then perhaps you could pass that message along to Your Majesty’s lover as well? I’ve faced her exactly twice, and both times she came looking for me herself. I’d rather not, you see.”
The emperor fell silent for a moment, took a few sips of champagne, then turned away without replying. Adele flashed a brilliant smile at the nobles watching her with rapt interest. At the empress’s smile, the nobles murmured softly.
Then someone near Lionel whispered,
“Indeed—she never seems to lose her composure.”
Lionel nodded slowly, though he thought differently.
Rather than not losing it, it looks like she’s struggling not to.
For the empress wore not the bright, light smile she’d shown while riding a horse, but the heavy smile of one who wielded power.
＊ ＊ ＊
At an appropriate time, Adele returned to her palace.
Dismissing all her maids, she roughly tore off her dress and flung it into a corner.
“Hoo….”
She drew a deep breath and let it out, but the boiling in her chest refused to subside. Through her disheveled hair, her eyes gleamed with ferocity. At the sharp sensation coursing along her nerves, Adele clenched both fists tight.
In the sealed space without a hint of wind, the empress’s black hair began to flutter in the air as if dancing. The churning currents made the candles lighting the dim room flicker, and the windows rattled.
The dress that had been too small to wear, the veiled mockery.
“Dian Poitiers.”
As the image of the slender, delicate woman rose before her, Adele laughed and covered her eyes with a hand.
When the long, eerie laughter finally died down, Adele rose and poured herself a drink. When the amber liquor filled the glass with a soft splash, she downed it in one go. Her throat burned as if she’d swallowed fire, but compared to the lava roiling in her chest, it was nothing.
“Fine. Let’s say Dian Poitiers is one thing.”
The more infuriating and incomprehensible one was Karl Ulrich.
“If you’re that madly in love with her, then make Dian Poitiers the empress. Why drag in an innocent person and pull that kind of stunt? Do you have some fantasy about tragic romance? About a white-knight emperor saving a woman in distress? Is that it? You pervert?”
Adele muttered with a savage expression.
If only her nurse were here—she could have poured everything out and vented her anger. Instead, Adele downed two more glasses in quick succession.
After drinking three glasses—neat—of Ehmond’s illicit liquor, infamous for its strength, the world began to spin. Still, Adele dutifully removed and set aside the golden crown, a treasure of the imperial family, then kicked off her shoes and crawled into bed. The beautiful ceiling spun and spun.
“What? You’ll even acknowledge my lover? How ridiculous. So very fair of you. Love? Love, indeed.”
A sincere sneer crossed Adele’s face.
Love.
What was love, anyway?
“Adelaide. Think. …Think.”
For to everyone who has, more will be given, and he will have abundance; but from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away.
It was a saying she had always possessed so much that she’d neglected it.
Always act as though you have. Even if the day comes when what’s in your hands disappears, keep your wits about you and your eyes wide open. Don’t let your shoulders slump—wear ease like a cloak. When what you have is gone, don’t be humble. People sense it like ghosts do.
Murmuring her late father’s words, Adelaide lifted her eyes sharply.
