The Empress' Scandalous Paramour (5 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 5

“Are you comfortable?”

“Hmm, not there… a bit higher up.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Splash, splash.

Water rippled in the silver basin. Perfumed oil, made by crushing magnolia and pomegranate in palm oil, wafted its subtle fragrance throughout the bedroom.

I was idly eating ripe red grapes, my smooth, callus-free feet entrusted entirely to Derek.

Even by my own reckoning, my adaptability was truly extraordinary.

‘Aside from the inconvenience of lacking magic, being Empress isn’t bad at all.’

After all, I was merely a figurehead empress who didn’t even need to do any work.

With servants who loyally provided both power and backing, there was nothing for me to worry or trouble myself over.

At this point, being human was quite tolerable.

“Your Majesty…”

“Hmm?”

“I have… something I wish to ask.”

And the greatest pillar of my comfortable life was none other than this knight, Derek Noert.

He was truly sensitive to the slightest gesture or glance from me, always striving to fulfill my every desire.

Take today, for example.

It was absurd—utterly unthinkable—for a royal guard to wash and massage his mistress’s feet. If word got out that a noble household treated their knight this way, the whole world would be thrown into an uproar.

Knights, by nature, possessed immense pride; no matter how deeply they revered their liege, they would never kneel so easily.

Let alone wash someone’s feet.

Yet Derek immediately prepared warm water and scented oil at my single word. Moreover, he served me with eyes full of gratitude, handling everything with utmost care.

Since I was thoroughly pleased, there was no question I wouldn’t answer for him.

“You may ask me anything.”

“Previously… you refused His Imperial Majesty’s visit, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Does it still weigh on your heart?”

On the surface, his tone sounded genuinely concerned. But at my age, how could I possibly miss the hidden meaning beneath his words?

Derek hoped I truly didn’t care at all.

It was rather endearing how he asked, wishing with all his heart that I held not even a teaspoon’s worth of lingering affection for the Emperor.

I tilted my head slightly and gave him a playful smile.

“I am accustomed to being served.”

“…”

“I no longer wish to serve anyone. And affection, to me, is just another form of servitude.”

I had always been a rather arrogant youngest sister to my elder sisters.

The only one I truly respected was my eldest sister.

Aside from her, there was no one in this world worthy of my bow.

Whether I grew weak, became human, lost my magic, or stood mere moments from annihilation by a blade forged of holy power—

I was born one who never knew how to kneel.

Enrique was the sole, singular exception to that rule.

“Therefore, the answer is simple. No matter what the Emperor does, I am utterly indifferent—and I’d be perfectly content never seeing his face again for the rest of my life.”

At my clear reply, Derek’s hands paused briefly before resuming their work.

‘He truly is like a winter bear.’

His build, his height, his muscles—

But above all, I adored his ash-gray hair and eyes, like a snow-filled sky on a winter day.

Glancing over at Derek, I reached for the bowl of grapes and popped a few more into my mouth.

“Ah.”

Just then—

Biting into a plump grape, juice spilled onto my lips. Hearing my soft exclamation, Derek lifted his head, puzzled—only for me to catch sight of the desire he desperately tried to conceal in his eyes, sparking a mischievous urge in me.

“!”

Still wiggling my toes, I stuck out my red tongue and swiftly licked away the grape juice. Apparently, watching me trace my own lips proved too stimulating; a vein throbbed visibly in Derek’s neck.

I giggled and pressed the tip of my foot firmly against his solid thigh as he knelt before me.

“My lord, would you fetch me the diary over there?”

“…Yes, Your Majesty.”

A metallic rasp escaped the stoic knight’s throat.

Teasing him was quite enjoyable. Every time I played with him, his arousal grew fiercer—perfect for me to greedily devour and convert into lifespan.

But he was pitiful; I shouldn’t push him too far.

Taking the diary he respectfully offered, I flipped to the page I’d left off reading yesterday.

Bound in red calfskin and filled with nothing but exquisite script, this diary chronicled the events surrounding “Leonarda Achilo” becoming “Leonarda Nyx.”

I’d found it a few days ago while redecorating the bedroom to suit my taste and had begun reading it, thinking it might prove useful.

But why hadn’t I finished such an important thing yet?

‘Because it’s infuriatingly frustrating!’

I had no right to talk, given my own failed love—but honestly, reading about someone else’s ruined romance made my blood boil.

I had to take several deep breaths just to keep reading Leonara’s scrawled entries. Her words made my temper flare uncontrollably.

[ I hate him so much for never looking at me. I wish he would just die. Better yet, vanish from my sight forever… or maybe I… Ah, I can’t take it anymore……. ]

Though the phrase “or maybe I” was hastily blacked out with ink, I could still roughly decipher the hidden words from the ends of the alphabet strokes. At the end of that sentence were a couple of tear stains.

Reading the rest of yesterday’s page with blurred eyes, I thumped my chest once in exasperation and turned to the next page. Meanwhile, Charlotte, the maid who had just entered, gently dried my feet with a soft towel.

[ I’m so lonely I want to keep a pet. A puppy would be nice, or a kitten. But why do I start sneezing the moment I get near animal fur? Am I truly not even allowed to keep a pet? Then where am I supposed to find comfort? Why was I born like this? ]

‘So Leonara had a fur allergy.’

[ I felt well enough after a long time to attend the banquet with the ministers. The servant serving meals ladled food first into his dish. Then, quite naturally, moved toward that woman. When she apologized in an embarrassed tone, the servant finally seemed startled, as if only then realizing his mistake. What on earth am I in this palace…? ]

It was only natural that a legal wife should take precedence over a concubine.

No matter how cherished a mistress might be, she could never be shown greater favor than the legitimate wife in a joint gathering—that was only proper.

‘Honestly, just the fact that a concubine was even seated at a banquet with ministers is incomprehensible to me.’

Given how negligible the Empress’s influence was within the palace these days, I’d let that slide for now.

‘But was that servant spared?’

If it were me, I’d have gouged out those useless eyes.

Since there was no mention of punishment, it seemed his arrogant head remained firmly attached to his shoulders. No wonder discipline in this palace was slipping.

Leonara truly must have been far kinder than I’d assumed.

“Tch.”

I irritably snatched two grapes and popped them both into my mouth at once.

Cheeks bulging as I chewed, reading all these suffocating stories made me want to either hurl the diary across the room or burn it to ashes immediately.

“Huu…”

Forcing myself to endure, I trembled as I turned the next page after several long minutes.

‘In short, the concubine is doing all the Empress’s duties, using the Empress’s frail health as an excuse.’

And because of that, I’m supposed to call her not a concubine but “Holy Lady”?

‘How ridiculous. So what if she’s a holy lady? What do I care? She’s just a childhood friend—so what of it?’

The Emperor clearly placed Leonara on the throne as Empress deliberately.

If a healthy woman became Empress, he wouldn’t be able to grant power to his beloved woman—so this was his solution!

‘Wait—does that mean he’s still just waiting for me to die as soon as possible?’

He’s utterly mad.

After finishing the diary, I thought of Enrique, and my mood turned thoroughly foul.

“It’s your fault. You made me kill you…”

Even with my eyes closed, I could vividly recall the scene where Enrique blamed me.

He hadn’t been mind-controlled, nor ensnared by anyone’s magic. In full, clear consciousness, he’d decided to kill me.

What, then, was his love?

If Enrique’s feelings hadn’t been love, perhaps it would have been better. If he’d never loved me even for a single moment, maybe I’d feel less wretched.

But he did love me—somewhat.

‘Just enough to love me less than he loved himself. Precisely that much.’

Though born and raised as a demon, never taught what love truly was, I still understood loyalty, honor, and aesthetics. And even knowing he was a holy knight, I never would have killed Enrique.

That much was certain.

‘Did Enrique believe I’d kill him the moment his true nature was exposed?’

Is that why he attacked without hesitation?

I had no intention of attacking him.

‘He clearly said it himself—“Why did you come down here?” He resented me. He resented that he had to kill me with his own hands…’

Which meant Enrique had originally intended for someone else to kill me.

Our marital home must have been a trap.

But because I escaped it, his plan went awry.

‘Ugh, no matter how many times I chew on it, it still stinks like a dog.’

Suddenly, I recalled the unfamiliar woman with pink hair. The man who’d avoided physical contact with me stood perfectly still when she ran up and embraced him.

“Oh, my poor Enri! My love. You’ve suffered so much lately, haven’t you?”

That single line revealed plenty.

She was close enough to call Enrique “Enri”—likely the woman he truly loved.

Since he was a prince, she must be of noble birth.

Everything she wore and carried when I saw her in my dying moments was of the finest quality, so my guess was reasonable.

‘Moreover, it was probably her plan from the start to send Enrique to that region to meet me.’

Quite the ambitious schemer—to endure an entire year just to make Enrique crown prince.

I’ll give her applause for that patience alone.

‘If it were me, I could never bear to watch my man stick to another woman for a whole year—not with my own two eyes open.’