I Will Live for Your Death (20 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 68

Nothing was better than target practice for clearing a cluttered mind and calming the heart.

But today, she wanted to forget everything else. Ilyd ordered her maids to fetch two rifles stored in the imperial armory.

Soon, a heavy rifle lay in Ilyd’s hands. The cold metallic feel—something she hadn’t touched in a long time—felt strange at first but quickly grew familiar.

Of course, not a single bullet was loaded. Removing ammunition from the armory required the Emperor’s final approval, and he would never grant Ilyd permission to carry live rounds.

A pistol and a long rifle. They had been hidden among her bridal trousseau when she entered the palace. What mother in the world would send her daughter off with guns as wedding gifts? But Keira Rowen Melphiram was precisely the sort of woman who would—and more.

How wonderful it would have been if she could at least practice shooting whenever she felt stifled. Yet Ilyd had never once attended the imperial hunting parties hosted by the palace.

The Empress Dowager insisted that the sight of the Empress holding a gun would shock everyone and damage the dignity of the imperial family.

Thus, during hunting parties, she simply sat idly beneath an open parasol, bored to tears.

After the massacre, she stopped attending altogether. Though Claudius consistently sent invitations, she remained holed up in the Empress’s quarters, feigning poor health.

Only when Claudius took his loyalist nobles on hunting trips lasting several days would Ilyd finally take her guns to the shooting range and pull the trigger.

In truth, shooting was easier for calming the mind than calligraphy—just aim and fire at the designated spot. How simple, yet how difficult.

But if she were seen shooting too often, people might grow suspicious. Until the moment her plan began, she had to keep playing the role of a quiet, obedient Empress. It was the most exhausting performance of all.

Sometimes the targets were moving objects, sometimes fixed bullseyes. And occasionally, they became Claudius himself in her imagination.

“Your Imperial Majesty the Empress, shall I prepare the shooting range for you?”

“No. I’ll just clean them today; I’ll shoot another time.”

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