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Chapter 22
“Forgive me, Your Majesty. Two more have taken their own lives.”
“How impressive.”
Edward sneered.
There had been exactly twenty-four intruders who tried to kill him.
He had thought at least one might open their mouth, but the more they tortured them, the more corpses piled up. None would speak.
“Only nine remain now, so we’ll proceed with greater caution.”
“Kill them all.”
“…Pardon?”
“No need to waste time. Kill them all, then spread the word. Our enemies will assume we’ve learned something.”
“As you command, Your Majesty.”
Once his subordinate withdrew, a figure appeared from the empty air as though it had been waiting for that moment.
At first glance, he seemed like an ordinary man.
But if one looked closer, his face was a grotesque blend of youth, old age, and childhood — clearly not human.
“I knew this day would come. You’ve hit a wall, Ed.”
His hoarse voice brimmed with desire.
“Take my hand for real, and the whole world will be yours.”
Edward glared at him.
Back when death was at his doorstep, he had summoned this demon out of necessity.
But then and now, he never intended to fully surrender his soul.
Fortunately, the demon only harvested souls of those who truly desired his power. Thus, Edward’s bond with him remained ambiguous — neither fully joined nor broken.
“I already have enough strength. I need no more.”
The demon let out a booming laugh, mocking him.
“Don’t you want that woman, Ed?”
Edward had to school his features not to reveal surprise.
Because the words struck home?
No — the opposite.
He had never desired Cecilia Keres.
Their marriage was a contract, born of necessity.
He had once sought her out for revenge, but now…
He recalled her pale face from two days ago.
Cecilia had truly been worried for him.
But that was nothing more than concern for a contractual partner.
To him, Cecilia.
To her, Edward.
They were nothing more than partners bound by a contract.
“This is no different from before. Just one more year added to the old contract, nothing more.”
For some reason, however, the demon had gravely misread his feelings.
Not that Edward minded — he could exploit the misunderstanding.
So he kept silent.
“She’s only yours for a year, you know. After that, she’ll be free as a bird. Surely you realize that.”
“…And you’re saying I should hand over my soul to keep her?”
“Exactly.”
The demon clapped his hands with delight.
“A fine bargain! A lifetime with the woman you love, living as you wish — in exchange for your soul. Tempting enough, isn’t it?”
“What worth is there in something gained like that?”
Edward’s reply was calm.
“That isn’t the life I want.”
The demon scoffed.
“How tiresome… Let’s see if you say the same a year from now.”
“Why would you let such a fox into your side, Your Majesty?!”
Cecilia blinked in surprise at Yolanda.
In all her years in society, Cecilia had never seen her speak so bluntly.
She lowered her voice, trying to soothe her.
“She’s not ill-natured. And she’s… rather useful.”
“So because she has a decent temper and is useful, you keep her close? Are you saying there were no other ladies available, Your Majesty? The empire overflows with noble daughters.”
“Lady Chamberlain.”
Cecilia cut her off.
“Christine is mine now. So I’d appreciate it if you treated her with courtesy.”
“But Your Majesty… Do you really not see through that fox — no, the Marquis’ daughter Cypher’s intentions?”
Cecilia laughed softly.
“How could I not? Of course she wants Edward’s attention.”
She sipped her tea, the subtle orange-blossom fragrance mingling with a hint of sweetness she found delightful.
Yolanda asked hesitantly, “Then… are you keeping her near to watch her?”
Cecilia stayed silent. Luckily, Yolanda seemed to take her silence as agreement.
“Whew, my heart nearly stopped. As expected, Your Majesty always thinks ahead.”
Cecilia could not bring herself to confess the truth — that she had taken Christine in to work her to the bone.
At that moment, Christine entered the study, arms full of documents.
She should have knocked and waited for permission, but clearly hadn’t expected a guest.
Startled, she bowed hastily without setting the papers down.
“Lady Chamberlain… It’s been a while.”
“Has it? I distinctly recall seeing you at the ball.”
Her words dripped with sarcasm, an obvious jab at the uproar Christine had caused there.
Their eyes locked.
Having always belonged to opposite factions of the nobility, the two had barely exchanged words before now.
Were it not for Cecilia, they would have avoided each other altogether.
Unable to watch further, Cecilia interjected.
“Sorry, Christine. Could you wait outside for a while? My conversation with Lady Chamberlain may take some time.”
Christine gave a small nod and left.
As soon as the door closed, Yolanda spoke with unconcealed satisfaction.
“Now I see my worries were foolish. Whatever you’re putting her through, she looks utterly worn out — dark circles and all!”
“….”
Cecilia was briefly at a loss for words.
She had never once bullied Christine.
She had simply been overjoyed to finally have a capable assistant — a handmaiden — and had asked her to help organize materials.
She had even told her to stop if it was too much.
Yet Christine seemed determined, working day and night until the documents for the state council were nearly complete.
Yolanda didn’t need to know this — and her misunderstanding, conveniently enough, worked in Cecilia’s favor.
Meanwhile, as Cecilia soothed Yolanda inside, Rosemary and Isabel were outside, watching Christine with pity.
At first, they had been wary.
After all, a marquis’ daughter working as a handmaiden was absurd.
Despite sharing the same duty to serve the empress, the gap in status was vast.
If Christine chose, she could easily make their lives miserable.
And with rumors swirling that she had joined the empress’ household just to catch the emperor’s eye, their guard had only risen higher.
But rumor or not, Christine now looked exhausted from endless work, unable to even rest properly.
And being snubbed outright by Lady Chamberlain only made her pitiful.
Even if it was the price of vain ambition, she was still pitiable.
And who knew?
If the mistress of the imperial palace were to change, it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared.
Christine sat outside the study, gnawing her nails as she stared at the closed door.
At last, Isabel approached carefully.
“Would you like some tea, Lady Christine?”
Christine flinched, then nodded slightly.
“…Thank you.”
“You’ve been working so hard lately.”
Oh no.
Isabel realized at once she had said the wrong thing.
Christine’s meek green eyes suddenly blazed with fire.
“Her Majesty trusts me that much. It’s an honor you two could never earn, no matter how hard you tried.”
“…Forgive my presumption, my lady.”
Isabel set the tea down and exchanged a look with Rosemary.
Wasn’t she supposed to be here to win His Majesty’s heart?
Then why does it feel like she’s competing with us instead?
