CH 40

Contrary to her perfectly normal-looking appearance, the empress was a person who would most definitely do something crazy at any large place of gathering.

“Seeing how she was so rampant in front of the officials, it’s no wonder how she’d treat us.” One of them muttered.

All the attendants worried for their future. Contrary to expectations, however, the empress did not act viciously towards them in any way, but that only served to make the attendants all the more fearful.

“Why on earth do you think she treats us normally?” One of the attendants wondered aloud as such in the resting room, and the attendant next to her answered. “She doesn’t even see us as people, that’s why. Would you punish your hairbrush for getting your hair tangled?”

“So that’s how it was!”

Cecile was locked in thought, unaware that such misunderstandings were piling up.

She was angry. No, to put it somewhat vulgarly, she was bloody furious. Cecile’s disquieting expression made the attendants work their hands even faster with tense faces. She had no mind for them, however; she was too preoccupied with Estian’s words replaying in her ears on an infinite loop.

“All the better to kill you then, since I had no such thoughts of having children.”

This was Estian’s reply to Aled’s threat of cursing his descendants.

Cecile had snapped to her senses the moment she heard him say those words. ‘He said the reason for accepting an empress was to have an heir…’

It was written as such in the letter of his marriage proposal for her and no one did not know it. To give birth to the imperial heir. Cecile had thought the same. It was why, regardless of how the emperor acted and her emotions aside, she felt relieved that he shared their bed every night. She was reassured knowing that she would be needed, at least until the emperor’s purpose was achieved. Here she thought he was working toward that goal, too. ‘But it turns out he has no such thoughts?’

Then why did he take in an empress? Cecile brooded over the question, but she could not reach a satisfying answer. All that was certain, however, was that her life would become like that of a candle in the wind unless she gave birth to the emperor’s child in the next few years. 

On second thought, she did not even have a few years. The entire imperial palace knew that the emperor was sleeping with her every night. If there were no news of pregnancy within the next few months, she was likely to be showered by a hail of petitions asking for her deposal. ‘I went and drew dislike from millions when it’s hard enough to earn favor as it is, after all.’

Cecile had followed the method Estian had claimed would allow her to survive in the imperial palace. After all, she had believed that she would keep death at bay through infamy if need be and endured. So long as she gained the position of being the mother of the emperor—or mother of the heir if her child could not become emperor—she could manage to survive somehow.

But he had no thoughts of having a successor?

Tears welled in her eyes at the thought of being fooled. All she had left now was nothing but infamy, and she would be chased out before she could even try to survive here. ‘That’s one thing, but…’

An inexpressible wave of embarrassment and shame washed over her. She remembered the day after the wedding, how she had giggled to herself as she drew words on a tile of the steamy bathroom wall.

My Husband.

The way she felt right now, she wanted to go over to the bathroom and smash that very tile. Why? Because her presumption brought utter embarrassment upon herself. Family? What family! Of course, a family was not necessarily made complete by having children. Still, the shame of having fantasized about such a future, laughing foolishly by herself, made her want to die.

‘I’m so glad I never mentioned it out loud,’ she thought.

Not that the emperor would have liked to listen, anyway. Cecile sighed heavily, her heart troubled, before looking at the mirror before her. While she had been lost in her thoughts, the finishing touches were being made to her adornment. ‘I look pretty if I dare say so myself.’