The pale sunlight shrouded the ruined Empire.
A silver-haired girl stood atop the Emperor’s high platform, her crimson eyes reflecting the desolate cityscape below.
The marketplace was empty, planks nailed crookedly across shop windows, cold wind tumbling scraps of waste paper down the streets.
A few ragged children crouched in a corner, sharing half a moldy piece of bread.
Their eyes had long since lost all light, waiting only for Emilia’s return.
After all, compared to distant, illusory gods, Emilia seemed a bit more reliable.
Her slender fingers clung tightly to the railing, knuckles pale from strain, yet she did nothing.
A flash of pain flickered deep within those red eyes before swiftly sinking back into silence.
It was clear that after being killed, she had, in some ways, become a little more human—truly knocked awake by the experience.
“Sorry, it’s all my fault, sorry, truly… I’m sorry.”
She murmured softly, so low it was almost inaudible. She knew that if she hadn’t acted so stubbornly, driving away… and even killing the nobles on the spot, maybe things wouldn’t have come to this. In the end, she could only turn away in silence, her silver hair drawing a feeble arc in the wind.
Just then, she saw Duke Olay creeping quietly up. His gaze stuck to the girl like glue, as if he saw the shadow of Emilia.
In that moment, the two kept overlapping in his mind, more and more alike, closer and closer, naked longing churning in his eyes, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, his hands clenching and unclenching, joints cracking softly, his breathing noticeably heavier.
But before he could enjoy a moment’s peace, he realized she had noticed him after all—perhaps not quite composed yet—and pulled an ill-timed, awkward smile.
“Your Majesty Gerard, I wonder what you’re looking at? Do you need my help? I would be very happy to be of service to you, of course, if you’re willing to cooperate.”
“I need you to leave. Right now. Is that alright?”
The moment she glanced back, she saw that annoying guy. Of course she was in a foul mood; it would be strange if she wasn’t. Her brows knit tightly, a look of undisguised irritation flashing in her red eyes.
Her fingertips tapped impatiently on the railing, the rhythm fast and heavy, as if counting down the limits of her patience.
She was forcing Duke Olay to respond. He answered with calm indifference, putting away his earlier loss of composure, not pressing or defying her further, acting with utter obedience—
As if his earlier insubordination had simply vanished like smoke.
“Of course…”
“Enough, enough, cut it out. I’m tired of your act. If you’ve got something to say, just say it, and then leave. Let’s both keep a little dignity for ourselves.”
She coldly interrupted the man, not even bothering to glance up at him, a mocking curve tugging at her lips.
“And don’t bother with useless chatter. I have no intention of idly talking with you.”
With those words, the air atop the platform seemed ready to freeze. The two faced off, their auras colliding so strongly that even the wind, stinking of corpses, couldn’t blow it away.
In the end, Olay yielded, a faint, meaningful smile on his lips—just like before, confident of victory, certain it was only a matter of time. Let Gerard jump around for a while longer.
“Understood, Your Majesty Gerard.”
No more wasting time; he moved on to the matter at hand.
“The stage is ready for you. It starts this afternoon. It’ll probably be a sea of people. Although I’m only informing you now, you don’t need to be nervous. All you need to do is disguise yourself as Emilia and reassure the people. Be a good mascot, say a few lines, and leave the rest to me. I’ll wrap things up nicely. Hopefully it’ll help ease the Empire’s crisis.”
Having finished, he didn’t immediately leave. Instead, he curiously watched Gerard’s reaction, as if waiting for something, the corners of his mouth lifted, eyes tinged with old memories.
He seemed to recall Lady Emilia again—that perfect woman, strong and noble, without a single flaw, the very ideal in his heart.
He was so deeply captivated, he couldn’t see any other woman as worthy.
Gerard could only respond indifferently. Since it was already arranged, what else could she say? So be it.
“I understand, do as you like. I’m not good at this sort of thing anyway, I can’t even fake it.”
Unfortunately, Gerard’s reaction left him quite disappointed; he instantly lost all interest. Looks alone weren’t the same as being the same person. He turned away without hesitation, never intending to look back—yet, as if remembering something—
Without turning, he spoke in a low voice, his expression hidden, perhaps gloating.
He was deeply vengeful; even if he couldn’t take revenge openly, he would certainly do so behind the scenes.
“By the way, Your Majesty Gerard, I found your woman in the village—the survivor, Dely. Luckily, she wasn’t in the Empire at the time… I digress. Anyway, I brought her back, which took quite some effort. Mainly, I was worried you’d be too lonely in the palace. After all, I know you’re surely left wanting, and I truly neglected this point before. I owe you a proper apology. But I suppose it’s not too late to make amends.”
He paused.
“I hope you can enjoy yourself, Your Majesty Gerard. Don’t waste my good intentions. I sincerely wish you well.”
Gerard froze for a moment, glaring at the man’s back, eyes brimming with a murderous rage—if looks could kill, he’d be dead already. Her lips trembled, opening and closing, unable to squeeze out a single word, until finally, a furious hiss escaped between her clenched teeth.
After all, she was truly unhappy about this, but had no grounds to refute him. Olay—ahhhh, that bastard really likes to play dirty, doesn’t he? Damn it! Forcing the woman who once betrayed me to see me like this… more womanly than any woman.
In an instant, she felt her mind tremble, her delicate hands clutching her cheeks as she tried to calm down, telling herself it was nothing, just a little hardship.
Besides, she’d never had much fondness for that Dely anyway. Maybe she once loved her—loved her even in bed—but during those days of humiliation, she’d thought Dely was steadfast, only to be struck the final blow by her. All those years of friendship had been for nothing.
After endless rounds of self-reassurance and inner fortification, Gerard slowly gathered the courage to face everything, gradually accepting her new body’s realities.
There was nothing left to fear. Yes, nothing.
And she finally understood all that Emilia had endured and suffered. As the saying goes, “If you haven’t tasted someone else’s suffering, don’t urge them to be kind.”
Now she truly understood, in every sense. That’s why she so desperately needed to make up with Emilia—otherwise, everything would be meaningless.
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