Chapter 02
He set down the letter he had been holding and picked it up instead.
A woman with hair as black as ebony cascading down her shoulders was staring out beyond the frame. Even though it was only a painting, her gaze was so intense it felt as if their eyes truly met.
He rested his elbow on the table and brought the portrait closer to his face. As he studied it carefully, his eyes narrowed.
Wasn’t a portrait sent to one’s future husband usually painted with the woman sitting demurely, wearing a gentle smile?
But the woman in the portrait had her red lips pressed together in a stubborn line, her expression firm and resolute. The arrogance of someone born possessing everything was etched into her features.
Karl’s vividly red lips curled into a crooked smile.
“…So she plans to come not as a woman, but as an Empress. Even in a painting, her presence pierces the sky.”
His gaze darkened.
It would be better for them both if she came simply as a woman—because the only thing he wanted from an Empress was an heir.
He had no intention of granting even a shred of power to the Empress’s palace. That was why he had sent a marriage proposal to the Princess of Gottrop across the sea—to choose someone with no ties to Ehmont.
Karl coldly slipped the portrait back into its cover. Then he picked up the documents again.
Just then, a servant waiting outside knocked and entered to announce a visitor. The moment Karl heard the name, his expression stiffened reflexively.
“Dian’s maid?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Karl let out a short sigh and nodded, and the servant quickly ushered the maid inside.
“What is it?”
He spoke before she even finished her greeting, and the maid hurriedly stated her purpose.
“The mistress asks for your help, Your Majesty.”
* * *
In another wing of the Ehmont Imperial Palace, a woman had been agonizing for hours. She was beautiful, with golden hair flowing in waves and pale sky-blue eyes.
Before her were several sets of tiaras and jewelry—treasures that had belonged to previous Empresses of the empire.
Yet despite being surrounded by precious relics in a splendid palace, her face remained clouded with gloom.
How long had she been sitting that way? There was a commotion outside, and then someone pushed the door open. Only two people in the palace could enter her room without permission.
The woman, Dian Poitier, rose carefully to her feet and turned.
“Welcome, Your Grace the Grand Duke.”
Grand Duke Elizabeta’s cold gaze passed over Dian and landed on the imperial treasures. As the Emperor’s sister, Elizabeta lifted her eyes again to Dian. Dian kept her gaze lowered—not meeting Elizabeta’s eyes, but neither stepping back. The tension between them was so taut that the maids exchanged glances and quietly slipped out of the room.
Once the door clicked shut, Elizabeta moved. With graceful steps, she sat opposite Dian. Letting her fingers glide slowly over the glittering jewels, she spoke.
“These treasures—did His Majesty take them out for you?”
“…”
“Oh? Not even that? It seems you require no one’s permission for anything.”
At the mocking remark, Dian answered with a blank expression.
“I did not take them unlawfully, Your Grace. You need not worry.”
“A concubine who personally selects the Empress’s ceremonial regalia…”
“…”
“I fear that, should the Empire of Gottrop hear of this, a protest letter will soon arrive.”
At that, Dian finally lifted her gaze toward Elizabeta. The Grand Duke reclined in her chair with a faint smile.
“Surely a formal regalia chosen by a sister-in-law is better than one chosen by a concubine, wouldn’t you say?”
Dian’s eyes widened in momentary surprise, then she let out a small laugh.
“…”
At Elizabeta’s icy stare, Dian quickly straightened her expression and replied:
“Ah—my apologies. But as the empire’s only divorced woman, I wasn’t sure such authority would suit you.”
Enraged, Elizabeta shot to her feet. And at that exact moment, the door burst open without warning.
The only person in the palace with the authority to fling open any door had arrived—perfect timing. Dian’s maid had faithfully followed her order to run to the Emperor as soon as the Grand Duke arrived. Seeing Karl, Dian’s face crumpled sorrowfully.
“Your Majesty…”
At her fragile voice, trembling as if about to disappear, Karl’s expression turned ferocious. The way his strikingly beautiful features shifted because of her—no matter how many times she saw it, it was unbelievable. The most powerful man in the nation reacted to her call, her sadness. It was always thrilling.
Karl shot a sharp glare at his sister as Dian’s watery sky-blue eyes shimmered red.
Elizabeta let out a bitter sigh and shook her head.
“Do you neglect governing the state so you can wander around searching for your concubine?”
Dian swallowed her tears and nodded weakly.
“Her Grace is right. I keep… becoming a burden to Your Majesty’s future.”
At her words, Karl exhaled a suppressed breath, as if enduring something. Then, glaring fiercely at his sister, he spoke in a voice cold enough to freeze the air.
“Enough.”
“…”
“Stop provoking me.”
“I have done no such thing. Once the wedding is over, I will return to my estate.”
The Emperor’s expression chilled even further as he turned and left the room. Dian hurried after him.
Elizabeta stared at the door they had exited through, then collapsed into her chair. Rage bubbled inside her like swallowed lava. Pressing down on her chest, she drew a deep, shaking breath.
She remembered something Dian had once said.
‘His Majesty is the sun. Those closest to him receive the most light. No matter that you are his sister—how could you risk displeasing him? I am his one and only moon.’
Sunlight scattered into fragments upon the jewels.
The late Empress had given birth to a son after great difficulty, but the child died before his first birthday. Afterward, she never bore another. Thus, the previous Emperor—Elizabeta’s father—recognized a child born of the Empress’s lady-in-waiting. That child was Karl Ulrich.
Elizabeta clenched her fists tightly.
Had there been another imperial son, Karl might never have become Emperor. But the flaw in his birth had little effect on his political standing—for there was no other legitimate heir.
Instead, it affected him in other ways.
* * *
“Your Majesty. You should go back now.”
Dian stroked Karl’s hair slowly. Karl, resting with his head on her lap, closed his eyes. Her delicate touch made a languid sleepiness wash over him. Dian watched his face quietly.
A beautifully sculpted face. His forehead, brows, nose, lips—not a single flaw.
Karl Ulrich Ehmont.
Even his name was perfect.
And that meant what came next was important. Dian’s gentle hand slowed… then stopped. Feeling the absence of her touch, Karl naturally opened his eyes.
When he did, Dian was staring blankly into the distant air. Her sky-blue eyes were empty, her red lips slightly parted, the corners of her eyes flushed. Seeing this, Karl pushed himself upright.
“Dian.”
At his low voice, Dian snapped out of her daze and apologized hurriedly.
“Ah—yes… Your Majesty. Forgive me.”
Tears welled in her beautiful eyes. She said nothing, only let them fall silently down her cheeks.
“What did the Grand Duke say to you?”
“…What if Her Majesty the Empress dislikes me? She’ll hate me.”
She spoke through her blurry tears, almost pleading. Karl answered with bored finality:
“The Empress will not be able to harm you.”
“Please don’t abandon me. Don’t abandon me, Your Majesty. I only need you.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Yes.”
Please don’t abandon me. Don’t abandon me, Your Majesty.
Even so, Dian whispered those words over and over—like a spell.
