Chapter 8
Then, a sharp whistle burst from between Patricia’s lips, and the white eagle swiftly descended at a low altitude.
As the large bird’s wings approached the window, a dark shadow swept across the room. Its wings flapped fiercely, as if it would fly right in, making a loud, aggressive noise.
Startled by the gust, the maids rushed into the back of the drawing room.
The white eagle landed on the window ledge.
Patricia stroked the eagle’s head and offered it a piece of roasted chicken. She attached the rolled-up note she’d wrapped in her palm to the string tied around the eagle’s leg, then lowered its feathers.
The maids remained frozen inside the drawing room, terrified, until the eagle, with gleaming eyes, finished the plate of chicken and flew away.
Even after the eagle left, Patricia casually perched on the window ledge in boredom.
She had imagined jumping from the window into the moat and swimming across it to climb the castle walls dozens of times. Now, she told the maids that it was uncomfortable not wearing underpants.
“If there’s spare fabric, it’d be nice to have a pair of pants made.”
She promised to keep it a secret from the emperor and not to wear them in front of him. The maids had her stand while they roughly measured her with their hands.
In less than an hour, they had sewn together a simple pair of pants.
Because of the shackle, the left leg couldn’t be pulled on fully, so they opened the side seam and attached ties instead. Patricia put on the pants right in front of them.
As a thank-you, she performed an impromptu dance called the ‘Pants Dance.’ It was a silly little dance where she raised her arms and legs exaggeratedly in the air.
“Hohoho.”
“Princess, you’re adorable like this too.”
The maids, who had pitied her as she sat barefoot on the window ledge like a waif, felt their hearts melt at the sight of the playful princess.
Above all, the princess glowed like the golden sun, radiant and beautiful.
***
“Harzen, Harzen, Harzen, Harzen!”
Voices calling the emperor echoed from the front gate. Patricia placed her hands on the window ledge and looked down.
The emperor of Karsik entered the arched gate atop a massive black warhorse.
He removed his gauntlets and Ahme. Running a hand through his forward-falling black hair, he lifted his head.
Patricia, forgetting her own situation, was captivated as she gazed down at the dazzlingly handsome man from afar.
She had once wanted to witness for herself the impressive swordsmanship of that man Patrick never stopped praising. At the time, Patrick was suffering from intense pain, so Patricia had disguised herself as him and gone to the Tane Academy.
It was a fencing class. Due to his frail health, Patrick’s attendance was counted even if he only observed the class. It was to be her last time attending in his place, and all she had to do was sit in the shade.
The crown prince’s swordsmanship was refined. Swift and precise, his restrained movements caught the eye. The calculated position of his arm and blade suppressed his opponent’s sword and even dominated the space. Not a single opening.
Harzen would disarm his opponent or stab a pig’s bladder filled with blood tied at their waist, then turn to Patrick—or rather, Patricia disguised as Patrick—and smirk arrogantly.
Did she fall for him?
She did.
His lean, muscular waist, the vitality of his physique, and his handsome face captivated her.
At the same time, she despised him. No—perhaps it was jealousy.
Is there a god? If so, she wanted to ask: Are you fair?
On what grounds, by what principle, did you place upon us the unwanted shackle of twinhood?
Had she been able to perceive it from within their mother’s womb, she would never have stolen Patrick’s share.
The one who possessed all the vitality Patrick lacked, and all the freedom and light she herself had never known. With a cold expression, she stared at the crown prince of Karsik, who arrogantly smiled as though the world were already in his grasp.
Radiant like the sun god Apollo, he was loathsome to her.
Harzen walked toward the canopy, drinking from a canteen wrapped in a handkerchief handed to him by a lady holding a lace parasol. He sat down beside Patricia and gave her a firm pat on the shoulder. The strength in his hand caused her to jolt sideways.
Despite having just defeated thirteen opponents, his breath was steady.
“Patrick, did you watch? There’s just one left now.”
A sudden surge of heat and his intense, masculine scent made Patricia feel an unplaceable emotion, followed by a wave of irritation.
‘This is probably how he acted toward Patrick too. That vitality and brilliance must’ve shown without him even meaning to.’
“Tane’s swordsmanship is still pathetic. Patrick, take down one more and let’s go to the Poeni tavern.”
“Isn’t using pig bladders filled with blood a bit barbaric?”
“What’s new about that? Huh? Patrick, your face looks even paler.”
When Harzen removed his gauntlet and reached to touch her cheek with his bare hand, Patricia abruptly stood from her seat. The wave of heat and his heavy scent flustered her, and she pushed him away.
Without a word of farewell, she turned and walked out of the outdoor fencing arena.
*
The emperor galloped across the drawbridge. He stopped in front of the castle’s main building and didn’t dismount, simply raised his head.
From the third-floor window, he locked eyes with Patricia, who was looking down at him. He raised his index and middle fingers diagonally between his eyebrows in greeting.
Patricia quickly turned away.
Debating where she should meet the emperor, she chose to sit on the drawing room sofa as straight and composed as possible.
‘Pull yourself together, Patricia.’
She heard the low murmur of men, reports being given, and questions asked. Then came the loud thuds of footsteps rapidly climbing the stairs.
Soon after, the drawing room door burst open.
“Presenting His Majesty the Emperor of the Empire, the eternal flame, the golden sun!”
The two maids clapped their hands together in sync and spoke the greeting clearly and precisely. Patricia silently gave a slight bow of her upper body and head.
“Princess, I see you haven’t run away.”
“Pardon? Ah, yes.”
“I’ll be out after a wash.”
“…Sorry?”
‘Wait—who announces they’re going to wash?’
Patricia had been tense, expecting the emperor to interrogate her immediately, but his unexpected statement left her dumbfounded. She tried to respond, but the emperor, possibly not hearing her, strode straight through the drawing room.
He waved off his attendants and went into the dressing room alone.
Once the butler and maids had left, Patricia carefully folded the pants the maids had made for her and hid them under the bed sheets.
She perched on the window ledge, watching the soldiers stationed at the castle wall and gate gather in the front courtyard for the guard shift.
She timed how long it took the changing soldiers to descend from each turret, cross the drawbridge, and arrive at the gate.
‘It’s enough. I can do it.’
She clenched her fists as she calculated the route to descend to the moat, the width of the moat itself, and the distance to the yew tree beyond. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the sky.
The early summer sky was bathed in a red sunset. The lake’s surface turned crimson, and soon the light spilled down to the earth below.
Clink.
The door connected to the dressing room opened. The emperor stepped out, droplets of water falling from his hair, which he hadn’t properly dried.
He was patting his hair with a towel when his eyes met Patricia’s, who was glancing at the water dripping onto the floor. His brows furrowed, and his expression turned cold.
“I thought the princess might be waiting.”
‘What is that supposed to mean? Who said I was waiting?’
Patricia was about to argue but tensed at his cold expression, biting the inside of her lip instead. He hadn’t tied the belt of his black silk robe.
When her gaze landed on the symmetrical muscles rising on either side of the deep V-shaped opening down his chest, her face flushed red and she quickly turned her head away.
Noticing her reaction, the emperor looked down at himself. Only then did he realize he wasn’t fully dressed and clenched his teeth in frustration.
Harzen, you’ve lost your mind.
There was a knock from outside the drawing room, and the butler and attendants entered. As they began to take dishes off the service tray, the emperor stopped them.
“Move the table over by the window.”
She seems to like the window. He didn’t say the rest aloud, wiping his hair with the towel as he returned to the dressing room.
While giving orders regarding Tane’s second expeditionary force and attending to imperial affairs at the Tamil Valley camp, the emperor had felt an inexplicable hostility that kept his nerves on edge. Anger had been simmering inside him.
It seemed to subside when he mounted his horse toward Pana Castle. But as the castle walls came into view, his heart began to pound, and he felt excited.
When their eyes met as she looked out the window, his heart sank.
But then, the way she turned away so coldly—an unfamiliar rage surged within him.
She dared to turn her back on me.
The indifferent back of the princess, like cold water poured over his burning chest, agitated him.
The attendants moved the table by the window and laid out the food. Dressed in new clothes, the emperor came to the window and sat in the chair the attendant had pulled out for him.
The butler then pulled out the chair for Patricia across from him.
Patricia turned to the butler and gave him a slight nod of gratitude.
“Not knowing Your Highness’s preferences, I had a variety of dishes prepared. I hope one of them suits your taste.”
“Butler, remember—she may be a princess, but she is still a prisoner.”
The emperor, who had been staring intently at Patricia’s faint smile toward the butler, said this in an icy tone.
“…Pardon? Y-yes, Your Majesty.”
“Everyone, leave.”
The emperor dismissed not only the butler and maids but also the knights who were standing by to serve.
Patricia fastened the top button of her collar, her body tensing at the cold voice that seemed to freeze the loosened air around them.
She was wearing the emperor’s shirt, the same one he had worn. But though it was the same shirt, it looked completely different.
On the emperor, whose shoulders were broad, the shirt fit perfectly. The fabric stretched tightly across his chest, outlining his muscles. On Patricia, however, it was far too big and hung loosely, the shoulder seams falling all the way to her forearms.
“Princess, you seem relaxed.”
Flashing smiles at the butler, are we?
“Excuse me?”
The emperor subtly furrowed his brows. Patricia started to say something but chose silence instead.
‘Relaxed, he says. Does he have any idea what I’m feeling right now? I just want time to pass quickly… Right, once I get out of here, I’ll never have to see him again.’
She clenched her hands on her lap so tightly that her nails dug into her palms.
“Let’s eat.”
Patricia looked at the overly elaborate meal with a hint of discomfort, then tore off a piece of buttery white bread and dipped it into the clear soup. She didn’t touch any of the other dishes. It was simply how she usually ate.
The emperor watched her with clear disapproval, then pulled the foie gras plate from in front of her to himself, cut off a piece, and put it in his mouth.
“Tane is known for its poisons, isn’t it? There’s no poison in my empire, so eat without worry.”
