Episode 97

“Hilde.”

“Yes.”

“Your lips.”

Yvonne urged him as he hesitated, keeping his mouth firmly shut each time she drew closer.

The Emperor, meanwhile, found amusement in the scene, noticing that his audience, climbing the stairs earlier, had now stopped. He had expected Hildebrandt to strike him as he had the last time they kissed.

The Emperor bore an uncanny resemblance to Hildebrandt—close enough to be mistaken for twins. The only visible difference was the small tear-shaped beauty mark under the Emperor’s eye, absent from Hildebrandt’s.

There was another difference, too.

“My lady, what do you think of my body?”

“Hilde’s body? It’s firm, muscular… and hard.”

“…”

“But I like that it’s hard.”

Yvonne followed as the Emperor stepped back while speaking, her hand reaching for his shoulder as she moved closer, lips seeking his. The sight of her determination made him chuckle involuntarily.

Below, Hildebrandt remained unmoving—neither climbing the stairs nor retreating.

“My body, is that what you think?”

“Yes.”

The Emperor found it amusing. His appearance, concealed beneath his clothes, gave no hint of the truth. He no longer trained tirelessly like Hildebrandt, who had taken up rigorous practice in his bid to survive.

The Emperor knew why—Hilberandt’s obsessive diligence was likely for this woman.

“Do you want to touch it?”

“Yes, but can’t we kiss first? I’m nervous.”

“Touching comes first.”

The Emperor found her petulant response oddly delightful. He had intended to toy with her briefly before tossing her back to Hildebrandt.

But, to his surprise, Hildebrandt still hadn’t appeared.

“Huh…?”

Yvonne touched his neck and pressed her fingers against his chest as if by habit. Yet she froze at the unexpected softness beneath her hand, unlike the firm and perfectly defined chest she knew.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s… nothing…”

Something felt off to her. As she glanced up at him, a flicker of unease crossed her face.

Hildebrandt—her beloved.

Did he have a beauty mark under his eye? And could Hilde wear the Emperor’s clothes so freely? Especially here, in the Imperial Palace?

“Well, well.”

The Emperor placed his hand on her chest, noticing her hypnosis beginning to break, and quickly poured more magic into her mind.

“What’s so great about that fake?”

“Ah… Hilde. I…”

Once again, Yvonne believed the man before her to be Hildebrandt. She interpreted the “fake” as the Emperor himself and answered earnestly.

“I like him because he resembles you. But I prefer the real thing. A fake is just a substitute, after all.”

“Hahaha.”

The Emperor found her words entertaining. Her frantic attempts to explain, her desperate clinging as though he were Hildebrandt—it all felt deliciously ironic.

“Let’s head to the bedroom, my lady.”

“Yes. I really want to have a child—a child who looks like you.”

“You’re sharp in many ways, but bold when it comes to this, aren’t you?”

The Emperor was well aware that Yvonne only showed this side of herself to Hildebrandt. In society, she was bright and pure, yet far from naive. She carried herself with dignity, never allowing herself to be belittled—like a rose with sharp thorns.

Her foolishness was reserved for Hildebrandt alone. She had often challenged even the Emperor himself without hesitation.

“Then let’s go.”

“Alright.”

The Emperor led Yvonne to his chambers, fully aware of how the rumors would spread among the guards and palace staff.

* * *

“Hilde.”

Yvonne stood in front of Hildebrandt’s door at the annex.

“Hilde, it’s me, Yvonne. Won’t you open the door?”

Hildebrandt hadn’t opened the door for hours. Her persistent waiting had caused the knights and servants nearby to quietly withdraw, leaving the area empty.

“Hilde.”

Knock, knock, knock.

She kept knocking, speaking through the door, and waiting. Despite her efforts, he gave no sign of coming out. Inside, faint sounds of someone moving could be heard through the door.

“Hilde, why have you been like this lately? Are you upset about something?”

Yvonne continued to wait. Having arrived in the daytime, she stayed even after the time for her to return to the palace had long passed.

The lady who had been seen entering the Emperor’s chambers.

Word would soon spread of an imperial decree from the Emperor. He had never before taken a woman into his confidence or chambers, making the offer of concubinage to Yvonne an extraordinary event. If anyone had seen her leaving the Emperor’s chambers, they would assume her as good as the Empress in all but title.

Even so, the Emperor had intentionally sent all the servants of the annex back to their quarters, leaving her alone there.

The reason was simple: he was curious about how Hildebrandt would react.

“Hilde…”

Yvonne, no longer able to stand, rested her head against the door, softly sobbing.

By the time dawn approached, and the song of birds turned to the growls of predatory creatures—

Clang.

“Hilde?”

The door suddenly opened. Yvonne, her tears still streaming, looked inside.

“Hilde…”

The man who opened the door was unrecognizable. He had grown gaunt, his complexion pale and his dark circles heavy under sleepless eyes. Even his lips looked chapped and cracked.

“What happened to your lips?”

“Don’t touch me.”

“Hilde… Why are you angry again? What did I do wrong? Tell me, and I’ll fix it.”

“Hah.”

“How can I live without you… Please, don’t push me away like this. Please?”

Her desperate pleas seemed laughable to him. He grabbed her by the collar and dragged her inside the room.

“What do you want? Should I act like your bedroom slave again?”

“What?”

“Is it because the Emperor didn’t satisfy you that you’re coming to me? Is that what you want?”

“Hilde…?”

He assumed that’s what she wanted from him. The Emperor’s impotence was an open secret, known only to those within the imperial bloodline but unspoken aloud.

“Fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“Hilde… Ah!”

He forced a hollow laugh as he recalled the image of her leaving the Emperor’s chambers. His lips smiled, but his eyes, glistening with unshed tears, betrayed him. He hoped she wouldn’t notice.

“That hurts!”

“Shut up. If you don’t stay quiet, I’ll throw you out.”

He held her from behind, wrapping his arms around her. He moved to touch her as though it was second nature.

“Why did you come here so recklessly? What if I accidentally imprint on you?”

“Ah… H-Hilde…”

Yvonne was startled by his uncharacteristic roughness. But if this was how he chose to release his anger, she would endure it.

It was a long, grueling night.

He tormented her relentlessly, his actions harsh and unyielding. Yvonne bore it all, believing that enduring his cruelty would eventually bring him back to her.

* * *

Mornings were no longer tender.

When Yvonne opened her eyes, all she saw was an empty bed. It was still dawn outside, and there was no trace of him anywhere.

He had always stayed by her side after their nights together, holding her until morning. But now, there wasn’t even a single strand of his hair left behind.

Her body ached from the events of the previous night, every inch feeling as though it had been bruised. Marks left by his bites and the red impressions of his rough hands dotted her skin. Her thighs felt overstretched, and the tingling in her fingers and toes wouldn’t fade.

Yet, the pain from his rough treatment wasn’t what broke her heart.

What truly devastated her was how, unlike before—when he would handle her gently, as if he truly loved her—he had treated her with nothing but disdain.

She had always loved waking up with him in the morning. Though he never spoke the words “I love you,” his actions always said them for him.

Even Yvonne, a woman known for her calculating nature, found herself unable to think rationally in his presence.

Looking back, she realized something was wrong with her lately. She had surely done something to upset him again, but she had never felt so unloved by him before.

Her love for him was steadfast. And in his eyes, she had always seen the same certainty in his love.

But last night, he hadn’t once met her gaze. That was what made her feel utterly wretched.

“Huuk…”

Once her tears started, they wouldn’t stop. She clutched at the clothes he had left behind, holding them to her chest. The familiar scent lingering in the fabric filled her lungs and momentarily comforted her.

“Huuaah…”

The more she sobbed aloud, the harder it became to hold back her cries.

“Hic, hic…”

Yvonne, still unable to wipe away her tears, suddenly heard the door creak open. She lifted her head to see—

“Well, well.”

Hildebrandt stood there, staring at her with an expression that seemed to mock her misery.

And under his eye, there was a tear-shaped beauty mark.

 

 

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