Chapter 2

The Princess Who Went to the Eastern Country (2)

Blanca looked up at the princess sitting inside the sedan chair.

She was staring straight ahead. Her expression was stiff as ice, and Blanca could see the tension in her jaw.

Even so, she was doing her best.

Yes, this was her best.

Keeping her head held high.

Pretending she wasn’t afraid.

It was the best she could do.

Blanca fidgeted with the knife hidden inside her coat.

How did things come to this?

She had repeatedly told herself to remain calm and think rationally.

But as the magnificent palace began to appear in the distance, the pounding of her heart grew louder in her ears.

This was the fate of a young princess.

She had been born into royalty and enjoyed a level of luxury that most people could never even dream of.

What she was being forced to endure now was the price of that luxury.

No matter how she tried to rationalize it, she couldn’t accept it.

The price of luxury might come in the form of duty, but that duty was marrying a seventy-year-old man?

It was impossible.

Using the excuse that it was “for the sake of the country” was nothing but despicable.

And if she helped deliver this young princess into the hands of the Emperor, how could she call herself a servant of God?

After doing such a thing, she could never return to God’s embrace.

Perhaps it would be better to die a martyr.

God had forbidden violence.

But He had acknowledged righteous resistance.

Was this violence?

Or was it resistance?

Blanca’s thoughts spun in circles.

When she had sought refuge in the temple at fifteen to escape an arranged marriage, there had been nothing particularly faithful in her heart.

At the time, she had simply been an ordinary young noblewoman from the capital.

Yet only a few months later, she realized what she had been searching for all her life.

It wasn’t love.

It wasn’t chivalry.

It wasn’t a comfortable life, dazzling luxury, or power as impenetrable as a fortress.

It was a relationship that no one could intrude upon.

It was God.

And so, she had believed that she had lived as God’s daughter all the way to the age of thirty-one.

Yet now, she was being put to the test.

The palace had been built atop a seemingly endless flight of stairs.

The sedan chair was set down at the bottom.

The princess climbed the stairs together with the officials of Mun.

Blanca followed from the position assigned to her.

The stairs weren’t as steep as those leading toward God, but there were far too many of them to be leading toward a mere human being.

Even while wearing high heels, the princess climbed one step at a time without showing the slightest sign of difficulty.

As befitted someone born a princess and raised accordingly, her movements were graceful and smooth.

Could I kill the Emperor?

Probably not.

How could a mere ordinary priest kill an Emperor?

So this wasn’t about killing someone.

It was resistance.

Like a worm writhing beneath someone’s foot—weak and futile, perhaps, but nevertheless a declaration that they would not simply allow themselves to be robbed of everything without protest.

As Blanca swallowed nervously, the Emperor appeared before her.

They called him the God-King, and now she understood why.

He possessed an enormous physique.

His beard was long, and his eyes were fierce and piercing.

His features were large and strongly defined, while his skin was dark.

Dressed in magnificent golden robes and wearing a black hat, he looked utterly imposing.

This was Yi Juwon.

The conquering Emperor of Mun, who had united the vast continent that had once been divided into a hundred nations and gone on to swallow up another continent.

He seemed less like a man and more like a fortress.

If someone built a castle of gold atop a sheer cliff, perhaps it would feel something like this.

As Blanca held her breath, the Emperor strode toward them.

Then he looked coldly down at the young bride.

The princess bowed before him flawlessly.

Holding the edges of her skirt with both hands, she bent her knees in a perfect curtsy.

For a moment, it was almost as though they were standing in the middle of a spring ball.

The princess’s long golden hair fluttered in the winter wind.

Her hair, bright as though lemons had been melted into gold, possessed a vivid beauty quite unlike the heavy, dignified gold of the Emperor’s robes.

The Emperor stretched out both hands.

At that moment, Blanca slipped her hand into the pocket of her coat.

Her fingers closed around the knife.

Yes.

She had to resist.

To those who had sold the princess.

To this old man in power who had accepted a young girl as an offering.

We still have to show them that we oppose this…!

“Have your parents and My ministers all forgotten what is right, leaving you alone to endure such loneliness?”

Ana Rosa’s eyes widened.

The Emperor wrapped both arms around her waist and lifted her into the air.

It was almost as though he were treating her like a little child.

When was the last time someone had lifted her like this?

Probably when she had been three or four years old.

She couldn’t remember clearly.

“Y-You… speak Ausian?”

“I had nothing to do in my old age, so I learned it. I began studying after our marriage was decided, so I can’t say I’m particularly good at it.”

Although he claimed he wasn’t good at it, he was speaking freely and expressing everything he wanted to say.

His accent was somewhat rough, but there was nothing wrong with his vocabulary or grammar.

Ana Rosa blinked.

The Emperor settled her across one arm, holding her securely.

Ana Rosa didn’t know what to do and merely moved her lips without making a sound.

The Emperor laughed.

“Yes. Legally, you will become My Empress. But I don’t possess such admirable patriotism that I would extend that arrangement into my private life. No matter how much it may be for the sake of the country, I simply wasn’t born with the stomach to share a bed with a twelve-year-old child.”

Ana Rosa blinked at his words.

She didn’t understand what he meant.

Supporting her bottom with one arm, the Emperor turned around and began walking away.

Blanca looked around in confusion, unable to understand what was happening.

Everyone who looked bewildered was from Ausis.

The officials of Mun, on the other hand, didn’t show the slightest change in expression.

They simply followed quietly behind the Emperor.

The Emperor had just declared that he would recognize her as his Empress only in a legal sense, but would not treat her as his wife privately.

That meant Ana Rosa would no longer be expected to produce the Emperor’s children.

In a political marriage, that would normally constitute an unimaginable breach of contract.

Yet no one dared to object.

Count Menios, the leader of the delegation, widened his eyes.

He realized that something far beyond his authority to handle was being settled as casually as a snake slipping over a wall.

He hadn’t even had the opportunity to introduce himself to the Emperor yet, so he was in no position to speak.

He had not been granted such authority.

And yet, in a situation like this, the Emperor had just declared that he would not produce an heir with the princess?

The Count opened and closed his mouth.

But he couldn’t make a sound.

All he could do was stare at the backs of the people ahead of him.

As the Emperor began walking forward with the princess in his arms, guards lined up behind him.

From where Count Menios stood, he could barely see the back of the tall Emperor’s head.

Blanca instinctively withdrew her hand from her coat pocket.

She didn’t quite understand what had happened, but the atmosphere seemed to suggest that the princess would not have to surrender her body after all.

She couldn’t be completely certain from the Emperor’s words alone.

But when she saw the nobles standing in front of her, every one of them struggling to conceal their astonishment, she became certain.

Ana Rosa was just as confused.

Her mother had repeatedly emphasized that although the Emperor was old, it was not too late.

Ana Rosa was young, but she had already begun menstruating, and therefore had the body of a woman.

She had been told that she needed to accept a man’s affection and bear his child.

Her mother had told her that she needed to give birth to a son as quickly as possible, before the Emperor died, so that she could establish her position within the empire.

Once she had a son, the rest would be handled by her homeland.

Her mother had even told her not to worry about having a boy because there was medicine that could help ensure it.

She had placed the medicine into Ana Rosa’s tiny hands.

But what was she supposed to do if the Emperor refused?

Wasn’t the only way for her to return to Ausis to bear a child who would become the heir to this empire?

“I… I came here to have a child, Your Majesty.”

Ana Rosa’s voice trembled.

“I… I have to become Empress. In private, too.”

At those words, Yi Juwon looked down at the small princess in his arms.

She was wearing a dress.

Even now she looked tiny, but most of her small body was undoubtedly hidden beneath the dress.

If the dress and undergarments were removed, she probably wouldn’t weigh more than a handful.

“A child can’t have a child.”

“I am not a child.”

Ana Rosa spoke firmly.

“I have become a fully mature woman this year.”

“Hmm. I understand what you mean.”

Yi Juwon found it absurd that a twelve-year-old girl, nestled in his arms, was insisting that she was capable of bearing children.