Captured into the Bedroom of the Enemy Emperor (1 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 2
The blind lutenist pursed her lips, then finally asked. After a short pause, she spoke in a low voice.
“Treat him with honor.”
“What is your name?”
“It has been long since I erased my name. Simply call me ‘crone.’”
“Very well, crone. As for tonight…”
Where light vanished, darkness settled—night had come. Night had begun, and this day was drawing to its end.
“Are you of the Hoon Tribe? Tonight is nearly over already.”
The Emperor drained the remaining green Favian in his pewter cup in one gulp.
“If your words prove true, I shall grant you gold; if nothing happens, leave the palace before dawn. Should I see you again, I’ll cut out that lying tongue of yours.”
“I’ll decline the gold and depart the palace immediately after finishing my song.”
“You’ve made a wise choice. Play one more tune before you go.”
The blind crone lifted her closed eyes toward the empty air and plucked the lute strings with her bony fingers.
The Emperor submerged himself deeply into water of a comfortable temperature and closed his eyes.
Had he truly returned to the palace merely to listen to the lute performance? Or was it simply out of courtesy toward a foreign crown prince that he’d brought Patrick all the way to the palace instead of leaving him in the military prison barracks? Or perhaps out of friendship for a junior from the academy?
Thinking of Patrick, a suffocating emotion surged within him.
“In the end, excessive greed brings only calamity and ruin.”
You stated that with such decisive arrogance, Patrick.
“History only records tales of overwhelming power and authority. Yet minor royal houses, minority peoples—for instance, our continent’s Hoon Tribe—also deserve protection and preservation in history.”
It was a noble thought, and he respected him for it.
Above all, he was deeply satisfied with the phrase “our continent.”
He had firmly believed they could transform Arcan Continent into a peaceful land—not through hostility, but through friendship—a land where sunlight fell evenly upon all.
And yet, he could hardly believe that same man had taken command of the war that initiated the invasion. Of course, it must have been by the order of Emperor Tane, that warmonger who had swallowed most of the Arcan Continent’s kingdoms over thirty years.
It had to be the Emperor’s command, Patrick.
If this war arose from your own will, I will never forgive your hypocrisy.
The Emperor recalled last year’s graduation celebration banquet at Tane Academy.
The dim terrace—he’d gone there to smoke with Patrick, who’d declared disinterest in the festivities and refused to attend. There, he’d encountered a lady who strikingly resembled Patrick—a vision both illusory and haunting.
It made him dizzy; his head spun.
With a wistful expression, he roughly grabbed the pewter cup resting on the bath tray. As he drank the strong liquor, a fierce heat spread through his body.
At that moment, Kalip rushed into the bathing chamber with urgent steps.
“Your Majesty.”
The lute performance hadn’t even concluded yet.
“What is it?”
Kalip knelt on one knee, lowered his posture, and looked up at the Emperor.
“The prisoner does not appear to be Crown Prince Tane.”
*
“Haah.”
After Kalip had removed all his silver armor, he looked at the Emperor. The prisoner wore black trousers and a white shirt.
The Emperor pressed the tip of his blade against the prisoner’s pale, slender neck.
“I’ll ask one last time—who are you?”
Through the open collar of the shirt, cloth tightly wrapped around the chest was visible. Clearly, to anyone’s eyes, the prisoner was a woman. The prisoner remained silent, lips firmly shut.
As if holding poison in her mouth.
Poison…!
The Emperor stepped close, seized her jaw, and forced her mouth open.
He inserted his index finger and swept it through her damp mouth. Her soft tongue curled inward, blocking her throat.
Leaning forward to peer inside, he pulled her tongue out with his finger. Between his finger pressing down on her pink tongue, a clear liquid glistened. The Emperor, catching her breath and scent, suddenly froze.
She was no illusion. It was truly her.
In that instant, gripped by a strange shudder, he shoved the prisoner toward Kalip—or rather, he stepped back, fearing the loud thudding of his own heartbeat might be heard by her.
“There’s no poison in your mouth.”
With a hand trembling slightly, the Emperor raised his sword and aimed it again at the prisoner’s neck.
So you were the lady I met on the terrace in that violet dress. Then why—why are you now clad in armor instead of Patrick?
“Reveal your identity. Who are you?”
“Kill me.”
“She might still be hiding poison—search her body.”
At the Emperor’s command, Kalip and the knights exhaled quietly.
The prisoner, who had kept her head bowed, lifted it proudly. Her blue eyes rippled like surging waves.
‘Patrick.’
“I am Patricia Kaliyan Ebas, Crown Princess of the Tane Empire.”
“Oh!”
Kalip, who had been gripping the front of the prisoner’s shirt, halted his hand and stepped back a pace.
“A princess of Tane? I was under the impression Tane Empire had only two princes—how suddenly a princess appears.”
‘Patrick… are you all right?’
Patricia reached for her chest, but the knights standing on either side seized her arms, immobilizing her.
‘Patrick… suddenly… my chest hurts so badly—as if my heart’s been gouged out with a knife… as if salt’s been poured into an open wound.’
“Indeed, you resemble Patrick—no, you’re identical. Are you his sister?”
“Patrick and I are twins.”
“Twins?”
“We dwelled together in our mother’s womb and were born on the same day.”
“Is that even possible?”
In the Karsik Empire—or indeed, across the entire Arcan Continent—no living twins existed.
It wasn’t that twin pregnancies never occurred, but few mothers survived until term. Even if they endured until childbirth, difficult labor usually endangered the mother’s life, and most twins were stillborn.
On the rare occasion two infants were born from one womb, it was deemed an ill omen, and one was eliminated.
Empress Aldisha of Tane Empire barely reached full term, aided by palace physicians and herbal remedies from the Hoon Tribe. After three days of agonizing labor, she delivered twins.
Emperor Kazan immediately executed the midwife who assisted the Empress, the Hoon tribeswoman Amir, and eighteen maidservants right after the birth.
Amir, who had delivered the prophecy—“Until adulthood, the sun shall guide the moon”—was cast out with her eyes and tongue removed.
Even without the prophecy, the male infant was distressingly small. Had their genders been reversed, the Emperor would have eliminated the girl—but instead, he ordered her confined to the West Tower until adulthood.
Thus, Empress Aldisha’s twin birth was concealed.
‘Patrick… are you okay? You’re not dead, are you? Empress Pamila—that wicked, venomous woman behind all this scheming.’
Patricia lifted her head and stared straight at the Emperor of Karsik.
“Kill me.”
Tears welled in her blue eyes. Her damp lashes trembled, then overflowed like crashing waves. Watching the tears stream down her pale cheeks, the Emperor was flustered.
“When did I ever say I’d kill you?”
Seeing her weep soundlessly, the Emperor felt as though a knife had gouged deep into his own chest. It was definitely her—beyond doubt. Back then, on the terrace, she had also wept silently just like this.
“Don’t touch me—just kill me.”
“Your Highness… why do you keep asking to be killed?”
Meeting the gaze of the princess—who held her head high yet wept proudly—the Emperor grew flustered and spoke respectfully.
Remembering the blind lutenist’s words as he looked at the golden curls spilling like captured sunlight, he dismissed them as lies.
Unconsciously, he blurted out words he hadn’t intended.
“Take her to my chambers.”
His face flushed instantly. The scent of the strong liquor Favian rose in his throat. Irritably, he swept back the wet black strands clinging to his forehead.
[This is the timeline separator]Patricia, the hidden princess of Tane Empire, was Patrick’s twin.
As foretold by Hoon tribeswoman Amir, twin siblings symbolizing sun and moon were born.
Normally, the sun represented a boy and the moon a girl—but with them, it was reversed. Especially, the boy who symbolized the moon was only about half the size of his sister.
Immediately after birth, the girl’s existence was hidden. She was confined to the West Tower of the secondary palace with her nursemaid Eva. Emperor Kazan, the warmonger, ordered the Crown Prince to observe battles starting from the age of nine.
Aldisha pleaded for more time, hoping the frail prince could grow stronger in physique and stamina. The Emperor was dissatisfied with his weak heir.
Patrick lagged behind in anything physical. After seeing Empress Pamila’s son Chris wield a sword, Aldisha made a firm, desperate decision.
Empress Aldisha, originally a princess of Torun Kingdom, stood Patricia before a mirror and said,
“Lisha, my child—listen carefully to what I say. In this palace lives a boy who looks exactly like you.”
‘Mother… why can’t I leave the West Tower?’
Patricia never asked that. She couldn’t.
“That boy is Crown Prince Patrick.”
The Empress cut Patricia’s golden hair, which had curled down past her waist.
“In the womb, you consumed his nourishment as well. At birth, he was only half your size—in body and in every organ.”
“…”
“His lungs are weak; he’d suffocate if he rode a horse at speed. So Lisha, you must wear this instead of Patrick.”
The Empress dressed Patricia in armor. She enforced an even stricter diet to control her weight and tightly bound her torso with cloth to conceal her figure.
Patricia gripped a sword far too large and heavy for her. Blisters burst and festered on her hands, cheeks, limbs, and shoulders.
When fresh wounds layered densely over dried blood and knotted scars, she could finally wield the blade with such speed it sliced through wind itself.
Patricia was naturally strong-willed. Bright and cheerful by nature, yet whenever sadness welled up with blood from injuries during sword practice, she’d fling her sword aside and stand defiantly before Eva.
“Eva, tell me—why must I do this for some boy whose face I’ve never even seen?”
“Your Highness… Princess Lisha.”
Eva, like a willow branch swaying in the breeze, wrapped Patricia tightly in her arms. Her embrace always smelled of butter—making Patricia forever feel hungry.
“Your Highness, courage is needed to reveal the truth. If you miss that moment, it will take even greater courage to turn things back.”
“Patricia is a valiant princess.”
“Yes, I know. But if your existence becomes known to the outside world now, Her Majesty the Empress will suffer greatly. The moment has passed. Just wait a little longer—until His Highness the Crown Prince comes of age.”
Eva was Patricia’s window to the world. As Patricia grew from a child to a maiden to a lady, Eva gently explained her questions, and sometimes taught her the art of silence by answering only with silence.
She provided the education a young girl needed—something her mother, worn thin by nerves and anxiety, could not—and was the only one who held and comforted Patricia.
Eva, daughter of Tane’s esteemed Tennesy noble house, had served Aldisha as a handmaiden since Aldisha was Crown Princess.
She was an exceptional talent—possessing scholarship, virtue, and artistic skill. If one insisted on finding fault, it was only that she dared offer frank counsel no other maid would utter.
Eva, upon Aldisha’s orders after hearing Amir’s prophecy, prepared a nursery in the West Tower. She advised Aldisha that although twins were rare, their existence deserved respect and should be revealed naturally.
“You speak carelessly of matters that aren’t your concern.”
Male lead is reincarnated to save his wife
I’ve also read this one twice already. The female lead is kinda soft and gets embarrassed easily—not really my type, but the plot is definitely worth reading. Hurry up and read it, y’all!
Intro
When Shen Yuan encountered Su Jin again in his previous life, she had already become the Prime Minister of the current dynasty. As for him, the former top young master of the capital, he had long since fallen into the abyss, becoming a singer on a pleasure boat.
After a song ended, he was redeemed and sent to the Su Residence.
Su Jin respected and cherished him, gave him a roof over his head, and bestowed him with warmth. Shen Yuan fell deeper and deeper, but before he could express his feelings, Su Jin passed away.
Shen Yuan died to follow her in death, but instead, he returned to when he was fifteen years old.
At that time, he was not yet engaged, and Su Jin was just a poor scholar.
Shen Yuan gritted his teeth, casting aside all his pride, and thought of ways to coax and entice her every day.
The colder and more indifferent Su Jin was towards him, the more proactive Shen Yuan became.
He was not afraid of being mocked by the world, only wanting to marry his Wife-master early, to hold her hand and never let go for a lifetime.
[Note: This story will not specifically point out the male lead’s reincarnation time point; it’s all in the details. Whenever you feel that the male lead is acting strangely, he has most likely been reincarnated.]
[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]
MANGA DISCUSSION
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Chapter Comments (10)
Wow, what a complicated family—they’re exhausting.
Re-reading this chapter, it made realize how little Patricia regarding her life compared to Patrick, all because of her guilt over her twin’s sickness which she assumed caused by her taking away his nutrition during pregnancy (in my opinion, it’s an entirely absurd superstition and baseless theory at best). Glad Patricia has come far by started relying in Harchen until she can trust him and vice versa.
Oh! Harcen made a surf board and have Patricia surfing at the sea? That’s so nice of him! If I were her, I too would be thrilled as I riding the waves.
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Lili lady
Nah, the story is incredibly infuriating—it makes you want to smack the characters.