Chapter 8: The Arrogance of the One Who Hurt Me
The sky had become cloudy. Just a little while ago, it was clear.
“There are clouds now.”
The man walking along the polished marble hallway stopped and muttered as he looked out the window. The gloomy weather matched his mood.
“Nothing ever goes right.”
He ran his fingers through his reddish-brown hair as he sighed. He had hoped to spend some time alone, but someone had already found him. His green eyes shifted to a man running toward him from a distance.
“Y-Your Majesty!”
The emperor’s aide came running, out of breath. This man—he was the emperor of the nation. Ostro Sirin de Lopundia. The only one in the country with such a long name that people couldn’t even remember it. Ostro clicked his tongue and looked down at his aide.
“Johan, how do you always manage to find me?”
Ostro sounded more amazed than annoyed. But Johan, looking frustrated, raised his head.
“Your Majesty, there’s only one place you ever come to.”
Ostro chuckled. Right now, Johan was the only one who truly understood him.
“The noble council is about to begin. You can’t just stay here.”
Johan, trying to catch his breath, urged the emperor to return. But Ostro shook his head and raised a hand to stop him.
“I haven’t even stepped inside yet.”
“…Ah.”
Johan’s expression changed slightly. With that response, he couldn’t press further, so he quietly stepped aside to wait. He knew the emperor’s thinking could take time.
Creaaak.
The old door groaned loudly on its hinges.
Just like his heart—stiff and unattended.
“How long has it been?”
The emperor stood alone in the room and took a deep breath. The smell of dust and, faintly, the scent of roses still lingered. Slowly, he walked to the center of the room. The sound of his shoes vanished as he stepped onto the carpet. Standing on it, he slowly raised his gaze.
“Lobelia.”
On the red silk wall, a golden frame held a portrait. A portrait of the former empress Lobelia—her most realistic image. The only one that remained. After her death, he destroyed every trace of her in a fit of rage, but this portrait—he couldn’t bring himself to erase it.
“I miss you… Lobelia.”
He whispered. It was sincere. He had wanted, more than anything, to bring her back. But the past could never be undone. On the third day after her death, once his mind cleared, he was left with unbearable regret.
“I never meant for this to happen. I didn’t want to hurt you…”
He cried. He didn’t want to believe it. He even wanted to dig up her grave and see her body with his own eyes. But he couldn’t. He was the emperor.
He admitted that his heart had grown distant when he feared that the child in her womb might one day kill him. But he had still respected her as empress. She didn’t deserve to die so suddenly.
He had committed a terrible sin—blaming their infant son. The baby had been born just two weeks before. Ostro had gone to kill him.
“Waaah, waaah!”
Maybe the baby sensed it—he cried so loudly as soon as he saw the emperor. As if he were crying in the emperor’s place. Ostro couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he sent the baby far away. So far that he would never see him again. He never asked about the boy again, only occasionally hearing rumors that he was alive.
That was enough. He didn’t want to know anything else. That child’s existence alone was poison to him.
“Your Majesty.”
A voice called. The emperor lifted his head. It wasn’t Johan.
“You’re here again.”
The familiar voice made him nod.
“Cecilia.”
With every step she took, her high heels echoed between them. The emperor couldn’t take his eyes off her. The high priestess wore a tight red dress that showed off her chest. Her golden hair was pinned up with elaborate ornaments. Her perfume was thick and sweet.
“Why do you keep coming here and making yourself sad?”
Cecilia smiled brightly and wrapped her arms around the emperor’s body from behind. Her soft skin and seductive perfume overwhelmed his senses. As she lightly scratched his chest with one hand, she whispered sweetly.
“Staying in a place like this isn’t good for your health.”
“You’re right. I should go.”
The emperor turned and held her hand. Cecilia wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing their bodies closer. With a bewitching smile, she looked up at him.
“I’ll be waiting in my room tonight, Your Majesty.”
“…Yes.”
Hearing his reply, Cecilia kissed him on the lips. A short, soft kiss. The touch of their skin was pleasant. The emperor, drawn in by her smile, kissed her again.
“Mmm…”
Cecilia clung to his neck and pressed her body against his. She stroked his waist as his kisses grew more passionate. Her leg slid between his, asking for more.
Ahem!
A loud cough interrupted them. Johan had finally run out of patience.
“It’s time for the council, Your Majesty.”
Johan’s eyes landed on the emperor—his lips were smudged with Cecilia’s lipstick. Johan sighed, thinking he’d have to offer his handkerchief again. He scolded her bluntly.
“High Priestess, please remember your dignity.”
Cecilia’s face turned red—not from shame, but from humiliation at being scolded by a lower-ranking official. Furious, she grabbed the emperor’s face and gave him another deep kiss in front of Johan.
“I’ll be waiting, Your Majesty.”
Cecilia smiled sweetly as she left the room. In the hallway, her eyes met Johan’s. Both looked at each other with contempt. Johan muttered quietly,
“A priestess like that…”
He could only sigh. He just prayed she wouldn’t get pregnant.
***
“That arrogant man!”
Cecilia stormed through the hallway, furious. She threw everything she could grab. The maids around her apologized over and over, even though they’d done nothing wrong.
“Yes, that’s how lowly servants should act.”
She looked down at a maid kneeling on the floor.
“P-please forgive me!”
Seeing someone bowing before her was thrilling. It reminded her that she had the power.
“Prepare a bath. The emperor will be coming.”
At her words, the maids moved quickly. They filled a marble bathtub with rose petals—the emperor’s favorite scent. Enough to make her entire body smell like roses, just like when she first seduced him.
“Haah…”
She sighed excitedly as she stretched her legs out of the tub and admired her own body.
“How do I look?”
“You are beautiful, ma’am.”
The maid answered without hesitation, clearly used to the question.
“Of course I am. Unlike low-born girls like you, my body is flawless.”
Pleased, Cecilia stood proudly from the bath. Long legs, a slim waist, full breasts, and shining platinum hair—her body was perfect to seduce a man. The maid looked away, flustered.
“Bring me wine.”
She wrapped herself in a robe and took the wine handed to her. It sparkled in the light. She sipped it. Sweet and bitter. Just like her.
The emperor’s favorite. The priestess is in his favor. But her position was still unstable.
“If only I had a child.”
She rubbed her flat belly. The emperor had promised—if she bore him a child, especially a son, he would make her the new empress. That promise was ten years old now. Despite hundreds of nights together, no child had come.
“And now he keeps visiting the dead empress’s room!”
It made her anxious. He was visiting that room more and more often lately. The more he missed the late empress, the less time he would spend with Cecilia. She needed to act fast. Her place in the palace was not permanent. She could be replaced at any time.
“If not for that prophecy, I wouldn’t even be here.”
At his birth, a divine prophecy had said:
“The eagle will soar the sky but be stained red by the thorn of a black rose.”
Ever since then, the emperor had feared that the black rose would be the death of him. Cecilia had taken advantage of that fear.
“I told him the black rose was that child. So why hasn’t he killed him yet?!”
She was furious. She had thought that once the child and empress were gone, the emperor would be hers. But things hadn’t gone her way. Was she not divine enough to make things happen?
She had wanted to be the empress from the moment she arrived in the palace. The emperor had welcomed her so warmly. No one had ever looked at her like that. She didn’t want to return to her miserable life at the temple—poor, starving, wearing rags.
Here, everyone bowed to her—even the emperor. That’s why she seduced him. She wanted to stay.
“Stay away from the empress.”
She had whispered those words in his ear like a devil. Over and over again. Slowly.
“But I still love her…”
“The child in her womb is the black rose.”
In the end, the cowardly emperor chose his own life over the woman he claimed to love. He had turned away from the empress and embraced Cecilia instead.
Cecilia still remembered the look on Lobelia’s face. It had been deliciously pathetic.
“Where is His Majesty?!”
Snapping out of her memories, Cecilia shouted.
“No word yet, ma’am.”
The maid replied fearfully. Cecilia, unable to hold back her rage, threw the wine glass. It shattered with a loud crash. It was already past the time he promised. The darkness outside the window told her he wouldn’t be coming.
“Where is he?! I’ll go find him myself!”
Cecilia, half-dressed, stormed out. Palace attendants quickly threw a coat around her shoulders.
“No, madam! You can’t just—”
“Move!”
She shoved aside the servant blocking her and barged into the emperor’s bedroom.
But he wasn’t there.
She knew he wasn’t working late—after ten years, she knew his habits. Then there was only one place left.
She twisted her lips in disbelief. Could it really be? Had he gone back there—again?
“…Ha!”
She let out a hollow laugh. Of course. He was in the empress’s room. The one he had visited earlier today. Standing in the hallway of the building across from it, Cecilia could see him.
He was touching the empress’s portrait. Kissing it.
‘Do you think she’ll come back just because you regret it now?’
Cecilia’s face twisted in rage. She had believed that once the empress died, the emperor would be hers. But things kept going wrong.
‘Fine. I’ll make him look at me again. No matter what it takes.’
She screamed in frustration. She had to get pregnant. Once she had a child, everything would change. He wouldn’t be able to ignore her anymore.
If he couldn’t let go of the past, then she would force him to.
‘Once I remove the last piece of that past… he’ll have no choice but to come to me.’
Cecilia grinned wickedly.
‘I’ll get rid of the empress’s son!’
Don’t blame me, she thought.
It’s your fault for holding on to his heart even in death.
