Chapter 10: To You Who Have Forgotten Me (7)
“She’s not a guest. She’s my fiancée, Your Majesty.”
Caius’s level tone cut into their exchange. The sudden assertion caught Lea off guard, and she looked at him in surprise. The Emperor raised an eyebrow, but Caius didn’t stop.
“She is mine. I ask that she be treated accordingly.”
“Are you trying to make a point the moment you return?”
The Emperor’s voice thundered through the hall. Caius didn’t flinch and merely offered a faint smile.
“Of course not.”
Turning slightly, Caius glanced down at Lea. Their eyes met briefly without warmth or emotion and parted just as quickly.
“I only wanted to make things clear.”
The Emperor’s sharp gaze swept over him, but Caius did not look away. Only Lea, seated on pins and needles, could hardly breathe.
After a brief silence, the Emperor broke it with a sardonic chuckle.
“Look at that. It seems the Empress was mistaken.”
Relaxing his formal posture, he leaned back on his throne and looked at Marguerite.
“As if he would ever change his mind. He’s the same boy who once demanded I approve the engagement without so much as blinking.”
Marguerite’s green eyes briefly softened at his words, then sharpened again.
Not long ago, she had casually suggested to the Emperor that perhaps it was time to break off Caius’s engagement. She hadn’t been entirely serious. Half was to gauge Caius’s reaction; the other half, to prepare in case the need arose.
If Caius intended to cast Lea aside, it would be easier to replace her with another puppet.
At first, the Emperor hadn’t seemed interested. But once he heard that Caius had been acting distant toward Lea, he appeared to reconsider. Apparently, he had sent word to Caius soon after.
Marguerite hadn’t expected him to respond so swiftly and assertively.
While she watched them with cool detachment, the Emperor continued, his voice now softened.
“Did I bring up your engagement just to have you parade her in front of me?”
Caius curved his lips into a calm, polite smile.
“I can’t say that’s not the case.”
His seemingly courteous answer brushed past the Emperor and landed on Marguerite. For a brief moment, his gaze turned cold.
“That’s why I wanted to make it absolutely clear. I have no intention of breaking off the engagement.”
Marguerite’s expression shifted subtly as she looked at Caius, then turned to Lea.
Lea had stood silently like a statue ever since entering the hall. When their eyes met, Lea dropped her gaze with no change in expression.
Marguerite tapped her knee lightly, then withdrew her sharp gaze and smiled warmly.
“Oh dear, what shall I do, Your Majesty? It seems I was mistaken after all.”
She leaned toward the Emperor with an apologetic tone.
“I thought they were growing distant and spoke too hastily. I suppose such things are hard for the couple themselves to address directly…”
“It happens. You were only thinking of our son. I admire your attentiveness.”
The Emperor brushed it off with affectionate ease. Encouraged by his tone, Marguerite smiled back at him demurely.
Lea watched them in silence, then glanced at Caius.
In the past, he would have shown visible distaste at such a display but now, his face was eerily unreadable. Not a hint of emotion. That unfamiliar expression felt strangely foreign.
“Well, I’ve kept you standing long enough.”
At last, the Emperor moved to wrap up the exchange. Marguerite, as if waiting for the cue, offered a gentle suggestion.
“Shall we move to the drawing room, Your Majesty?”
“Yes, this formality has gone on long enough.”
With his agreement, the Emperor ordered a servant to prepare the drawing room. As he rose from the throne, Lea let out a quiet sigh through tightly sealed lips.
The audience had not lasted long.
Lea did exactly as Caius asked. She held her tongue and endured the moment. When Marguerite asked her anything, she answered with no more than a yes or no.
In the carriage ride back to the separate palace, Lea kept stealing glances at Caius, who sat across from her.
He said nothing, his arms folded as he looked out the window.
Lea opened her mouth several times to speak, only to hesitate and fall silent again. In the end, she said nothing at all.
* * *
“Your Highness, allow us to attend to you…”
“That won’t be necessary. Everyone, leave.”
Caius dismissed the palace attendants in charge of the bath without hesitation, then immediately began undoing his collar.
With slow but rough movements, his clothes slipped off one by one. Soon, his bare, muscular body sank into the hot water, parting the surface as he entered. Leaning back against the tub, he tilted his head, letting the rising steam blur his vision.
His obsession with bathing was a lingering effect of the war.
Even after it ended, there were times when he swore he could still smell the stench of blood clinging to him. It was the same whenever he had to face those he found repulsive. Just seeing the Emperor and Empress gaze fondly at one another made him feel tainted all over.
Caius swept back his damp, ebony hair, revealing his well-shaped forehead beneath slightly tousled strands. His heavy-lidded eyes, shadowed beneath sharply carved brows, stared blankly into space.
[“So, are you really thinking of marrying the princess?”]
He recalled the Emperor’s casual question after a private audience. His lips twisted faintly.
[“If you’re determined to go through with it, I won’t stop you. I’d hoped perhaps your feelings had changed, but a promise is a promise. I’ll support your decision. Just know that it won’t be easy to suppress the backlash, from within or outside.”]
Only then, when the Emperor mentioned the promise, did he truly realize it: the reason he’d so willingly led the charge into war was because of her. And only then did he grasp that his memories had gaping holes.
He could’ve refused to fight. Even if the Empress pressured the Emperor, there had been ways out, excuses he could have used. And the Emperor had granted him the choice first.
But he didn’t hesitate. He had drawn his sword because he needed the justification to marry her.
If he led them to victory, he’d gain power. With power came legitimacy. And with legitimacy came the grounds for marriage.
That was why, three years ago, he had proposed to the Emperor: that he would conquer the South and bring prosperity to the Empire. That he would prove his worth and claim the position of heir.
In return, he asked for permission to marry the Princess of Ainel upon his return. After the death of his mother, stripped of what little power remained to him, it had seemed like his only way forward.
The only valid path to the throne and the only way he could make her his.
“…Ha.”
A soft, bitter laugh escaped Caius’ lips. Beyond the rising steam, an image of a woman with silvery-white hair appeared.
Eyes the color of amethyst, lowered gently as she looked up at him. Pale lashes trembling faintly. Lips parted in hesitation.
There was no denying she was a striking woman.
Uncommon features, an ethereal presence – she was the kind of beauty that turned heads wherever she went. But that alone was never enough to justify choosing her.
What he needed wasn’t a beautiful, enchanting woman, but someone who could align with his goals, someone with whom he could form a strategic partnership.
In that regard, the Princess of Ainel held no value.
Caius now wanted to ask his past self: What exactly was so special about her? Why had he chosen a woman who had nothing, over himself, who had at least something?
But no answer came. Only a hollow sense of ridicule.
Half-lidding his eyes, he exhaled, the heat of his breath echoing the simmering unrest within him.
Trying to clear his thoughts, he splashed water on his face. Then, abruptly, he raised his hand.
A faint burn scar marked the back of it, hidden beneath the skin and bone.
Another blank spot in his memory. Though the scar was faint, it was real and he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten it. But when she had gently caressed the back of his hand, something strange and indescribable had surged through him.
The moment her soft touch met his skin, all his senses heightened unbearably. A searing heat tightened in his chest. It was a sensation entirely foreign to him.
His lips twitched slightly as his sharp gaze fixed on the empty air. One by one, the principles he had lived by were starting to unravel.
It was not a pleasant feeling.
The past no longer mattered. What mattered was the present. She wanted his memories to return but to Caius, she was merely a temporary shield, a means to buy time.
Once the Empress and the rest of his political enemies were fully distracted, he would remove her from his side.
Once he became Crown Prince, he’d gain diplomatic power. With that, he could finally break the long-standing alliance with Ainel.
If he sent her back to her kingdom, everything would return to its rightful place. As if that foolish, childish infatuation from long ago had never existed.
Yes, once that happened, he wouldn’t have to deal with this maddening feeling anymore.
Without realizing it, Caius clenched his hand against the edge of the tub.
