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chapter 4…
The first night was the most important. She had to win the Emperor over tonight, had to leave some kind of impression on him.
Lucrezia’s heart had long gone stiff with tension. Everyone had pressured her, saying she must succeed. But she could not imagine it at all—sharing the same bed as the Emperor, pressing their bodies together within it.
Covered in the heavy scent of flowers and perfume oil, Lucrezia sat on the bed. The pure white bed felt endlessly wide. Sitting small in the very center, she stared blankly at the ticking clock.
One hour passed. The sun set.
Two hours passed.
Three hours passed, and still no one came.
Only after the morning star rose did Lucrezia fully understand.
He isn’t coming.
She was a bride rejected on her first night.
With that realization, all strength left her body.
She pressed a hand to her chest. Maybe it was the emptiness she felt, but that area seemed cold, as if wind were blowing through it.
As her tension faded, sleep rushed over her like a lie. She closed her heavy eyelids, thinking how unbearable the strong scent of perfume still was.
That dawn, she dreamed of her distant childhood.
It had been an era of war. Barbarians disturbed the borders from outside, and inside, members of the imperial family killed one another in internal conflicts. Lucrezia’s household was no exception to the chaos.
When Marquis Zefer learned that she was his illegitimate child, born from a maid, he handed her over to his vassal, Viscount Larenne.
Because the marquis strictly ordered silence, the viscount could not even tell his own wife that Lucrezia was not his illegitimate child.
“You filthy man! Where did you bring this nameless girl from?!”
The viscountess, furious that her husband had brought home a supposed illegitimate child, packed her things and soon sent divorce papers.
After that, Viscount Larenne wasted the money given by the marquis and drowned himself in alcohol every day. Whenever he saw Lucrezia, he cursed and shouted at her, blaming her for losing his wife. And when Marquis Zefer stopped even showing his face after handing her over, the abuse gradually became worse.
That night, for the first time, Lucrezia ran outside the mansion to escape the viscount, who had raised his hand to strike her. She ran and ran through back alleys she did not even know.
That was when it happened.
Beside a trash bin in the alley, she found a boy.
He was covered in blood and dirt, barely breathing. Lucrezia instinctively knew—this child was about to die.
Without thinking, she reached out to him. It was a habit. The viscount never called a doctor or priest even when she was sick. But when she rubbed the painful area herself, the pain seemed to lessen a little.
However, no matter how much she rubbed or held him, the boy’s body remained as cold as a corpse.
What should I do? He’s really going to die.
As if that were not enough, rain began to fall. She grabbed some rags from the trash and covered both him and herself, but it was not enough to block the pouring rain.
Shivering in the cold, Lucrezia hugged the boy tightly.
“P-please help! There’s someone here…!”
No matter how much she shouted, the winter alley remained silent and cold. All she could do was share her body heat. Forgetting even the pain from the beating she had received, she desperately held the boy and sobbed.
After some time—
The boy, who had lain like a corpse, suddenly coughed and spat out blood. Startled by the thick smell of blood, she flinched as he opened his eyes.
Inside them were eyes redder than the fresh blood he had just spilled.
The next morning, the sound of birds woke her.
“Mmm…”
Where am I?
Holding the soft blanket, Lucrezia wondered.
There had been no blanket this fine in the small room of the marquis’s house.
Where on earth is this…?
She opened her eyes slightly—and was startled by the beautifully carved ceiling above her.
Ah. That’s right.
She was no longer the girl chased and beaten by the viscount.
As of yesterday, she was…
“You’re awake, Empress.”
Gasp.
Lucrezia quickly sat up.
The Emperor—wearing only a white shirt—was fastening his cufflinks with an expressionless face.
“Y-Your Majesty?”
Her heart pounded wildly. Pressing a hand to her chest, she barely managed to speak.
“I greet Your Majesty the Emperor.”
“That’s enough.”
The Emperor spoke irritably as she hurried to show proper respect.
It was clear from his attitude—he did not care about her at all.
Lucrezia tightly shut her eyes. His mere presence, filling the bedroom, terrified her. If she could, she would curl up like a mouse in the corner of the bed and pretend to be dead until he left.
It was only natural. The Emperor, infamous as a killer, had even been forced into this marriage and clearly did not welcome her.
But if their first night passed without any contact at all, the marquis would be furious.
So she forced her trembling lips to move.
“Your Majesty, forgive me, but last night…”
“I did not come.”
The Emperor spoke indifferently.
“Did you rest well?”
Of course not. Lucrezia bit her lip.
“…I waited. I thought you would come.”
She wanted to sound calm, but the end of her sentence came out strangely soft.
Perhaps he noticed, because the Emperor turned to look at her. Tilting his head slightly, he asked,
“Why?”
“Pardon?”
“Why did you expect that I would come?”
Lucrezia stared at him, speechless. On a first night, it was natural for a bride to enter the bedroom for that purpose.
As if mocking her confusion, he said flatly,
“Did you think we would share a bed? You and I?”
Her eyes widened. That was answer enough.
The corners of the Emperor’s lips lifted smoothly.
“I see. But I’m sorry, Empress. I have no intention of watching Marquis Zefer’s shoulders rise in pride as your belly swells.”
Lucrezia swallowed.
She was not ignorant of the empire’s political situation.
The House of Zefer was one of the most powerful families, second only to the imperial family. From the Emperor’s perspective, it would not be pleasant for their power to grow even stronger. His sharp reaction was understandable.
Still, she had given at least a little meaning to the sweet phrase “first night.”
It was foolish.
Swallowing her self-mockery, Lucrezia spoke.
“I understand.”
“You understand?”
“I never… dared to expect that you would favor me.”
Lowering her eyes, she continued.
She knew her position well.
This marriage had not been what the Emperor wanted. It was only a promise made by the former Emperor, passed down to the current one.
At best, her future was that of a puppet empress.
Though he had married her because of the promise, she had never expected him to truly grant power to the ward of the Zefer family.
Yet she had hoped he might at least share the first night with her…
“Perhaps you have the qualities of a warrior, my lady.”
Maybe it was because she remembered the crooked smile he had given her the one day they met before the wedding.
It had been foolish.
To him, speaking briefly to a noble lady among many must have meant nothing—just a passing whim.
The moment she thought that, her chin was suddenly gripped.
“Ah…?”
Startled, she looked up.
His blood-red eyes, said to be stained from battlefields, pierced her at close range. They were as captivating as jewels. She did not even dare to breathe.
The Emperor slowly examined her features.
Flawless, clear skin. Silver hair that seemed to glow. A slender figure that would stir men’s protective instincts.
Then he sneered.
“As expected. A courtesan raised carefully by the marquis.”
Lucrezia swallowed hard.
She was used to insults—rat, leech, thief. But she had never before been called a courtesan. Her heart burned with shame.
His fingers slowly stroked her stiff cheek.
“You’re beautiful.”
Thud. She felt her heart drop.
He clicked his tongue softly.
“Too beautiful.”
“….”
“Fit to be a mistress, not an empress.”
Excessive beauty suited courtesans or actresses, not royalty. For them, it only brought gossip.
With a pale face, she stammered,
“I am not a courtesan—”
“Are you going to deny it?”
He cut her off sharply. His hand slid down to her lower abdomen.
“You must have come here fully prepared—to carry my child in this womb.”
His words matched exactly the marquis’s command. She could not answer.
Looking down at her, he twisted his lips.
“It’s better to wake from foolish dreams early. You will never carry my child.”
Leaning closer, he added mockingly,
“I’m not so desperate as to desire the offspring of a vulgar hyena.”
