10. The Mark
“Why on earth didn’t you say anything?”
As soon as the emperor left, the ladies-in-waiting poured into the room.
After finishing her bath and changing clothes, Rasilia turned to Marchioness Pashad, trying hard to hide her expression of utter mortification.
“I… I believed Your Majesty the Empress would know that it was the ceremonial nightgown.”
The marchioness’s voice trailed off, barely audible.
“I even asked multiple times, but you insisted you liked the ceremonial nightgown…”
“That’s enough. I understand.”
Rasilia sighed softly.
This was the price of the Empress’s long-standing habit of telling obvious lies. No one believed a word she said anymore.
“As everyone knows, I’ve lost my memory. I don’t even recall small details like which nightgown is for which occasion. If I ever make such a mistake again, you must stop me immediately.”
“Yes… I understand, Your Majesty.”
Though the answer was respectful, Rasilia didn’t feel very reassured.
Even now, the maids were probably wavering, unsure whether the Empress was lying again or not.
‘There’s no helping it. I’ll just have to be more cautious.’
No matter how she looked at it, she had to leave this place as soon as possible. She recalled the shadow knights who drew their swords the moment she uttered the word “imposter.” Riyane’s warning hadn’t been for nothing.
‘I must return to Dellarta as soon as possible. I need a natural excuse to bring up the prayer for healing…’
Just then—
Knock, knock.
“Your Majesty.”
The opportunity came to her of its own accord.
“Lord Ternaden Pielion requests an audience.”
* * *
The young lord of Pielion was the Empress’s younger brother by adoption.
“I greet Your Majesty the Empress.”
He didn’t seem much younger than her. With his black hair and cold blue eyes, the handsome man had a sharp presence. They said he was a distant relative adopted to inherit the title, but it was uncanny how much he resembled the Empress.
He knelt respectfully before Rasilia and gently kissed the back of her hand.
“May the Divine bless Your Majesty’s unchanging beauty.”
“…Thank you, Lord Pielion. Please rise.”
“As you wish.”
Ternaden stood.
No one ordered them, yet the maids quietly exited the room.
“…?”
Rasilia found that odd. While she was thinking it over, Ternaden stepped closer and took a handful of her still damp hair, sniffing it.
“Hm. Lemon today? Even though you know I don’t like it. Citrus doesn’t suit you.”
Tap!
Startled, Rasilia slapped his hand away.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“What are you doing? That hurt.”
Ternaden clicked his tongue, rubbing his reddened hand. His tone and movements were so casual, it suggested a close relationship.
“You must not have heard—I’ve lost my memory. I’ve heard of you, but I don’t remember spending any time with you. Please don’t be offended if I treat you like a stranger.”
“…Huh? Are you seriously pretending to have amnesia with me too?”
Judging by his reaction, he had heard about the memory loss.
“Even if we’re siblings, I would prefer a bit of decorum.”
“Decorum…? Unbelievable.”
Ternaden shook his head in disbelief.
Rasilia felt the same.
Even her own household didn’t believe her. It made the path back to Dellarta seem all the longer.
Then, suddenly, Ternaden dropped himself onto the seat beside her.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m serious. Stop this nonsense, it’s boring. Just tell me—are you mad at me? Was the spell ineffective?”
“…Spell?”
Ternaden Pielion knew about the Empress’s secret.
Now Rasilia understood why the maids had left without being told. The Empress must’ve been used to sharing secrets with him—to the point where the maids automatically left whenever the two were together.
‘She used a spell? Why?’
Rasilia abandoned the idea of sending him away. Ternaden Pielion might know things about the Empress no one else did.
“If you’re angry at me, it must be that. The spell didn’t work yet, so now you’re punishing me?”
“…”
When Rasilia didn’t answer, Ternaden took her hand and pressed it to his cheek, his expression twisting in pain.
“Please, Sister… Don’t treat me like this. I did everything I could for you. You know I went all the way to Trinidad to bring back the most powerful shaman.”
The days when spellcraft was common were long past. Over time, it came to be seen as unstable and unreliable compared to divine or magical powers.
The vast knowledge required made it even more inaccessible. Half-baked spells attempted with insufficient knowledge often ended in disaster.
Eventually, the number of shamans dwindled, and spellcraft became nearly forgotten.
Trinidad was one of the few remaining cities where shamans still upheld the old ways.
“It’s only been a week since the shaman left. The spell needs time to take effect. The shaman said so herself—it wouldn’t be something we could see right away.”
“…And how long am I supposed to believe that?”
Rasilia pulled her hand away, her tone growing cold.
Judging by his demeanor, treating him like a stranger wouldn’t work.
“Until the emperor’s thirtieth birthday.”
Ternaden hesitated before answering.
“The effect will definitely show before then.”
That was a full year away. Far too long to wait—and Rasilia had no intention of staying in the Empire that long.
Ternaden clutched her hand again.
“Please trust me. And forgive me. We hardly see each other as it is.”
His voice was sincere.
If nothing else, it was clear he was firmly on the Empress’s side.
Rasilia pulled her hand away once more. Ternaden looked at her retreating hand with regret.
“Before forgiveness, there’s something you need to know.”
“What is it? Tell me. I’ll do anything.”
“My amnesia… it’s real.”
“…What?”
“So tell me—what was that spell supposed to do?”
“This is ridiculous… Don’t tell me this is a side effect of the spell.”
Ternaden finally seemed to believe her after repeatedly questioning.
“I heard powerful spells can have side effects or rebound… but memory loss? Damn it.”
He paced the room, grabbing his jaw in distress.
“Stop pacing. Sit and finish your explanation.”
Rasilia gestured to the couch. After staring at her for a while, Ternaden returned and sat down.
“So… you really don’t remember anything? Not even what we did together?”
“No. Is there something I absolutely must know?”
“Hell yes, all of it! How can you say that?!”
Ternaden exploded. Though honestly, it looked more like fear than anger.
He grabbed his dark hair—so like the Empress’s—and tugged at it.
“This is insane… Of all times to lose your memory, why now?”
Raking his hair back anxiously, he looked up at her again—his expression earnest.
“Listen carefully, Sister.”
“I’m listening.”
“You’ve lost the mark.”
That was a shocking revelation.
The mark was proof of a bonded pair. If she had lost it, the Empress would have done anything to recover it.
“You can lose the mark? Is it like an object?”
“…What?”
Ternaden gave a bitter laugh.
“You really know nothing now. You summoned the shaman to recover the mark, yet forgot what the mark even is?”
He pointed to a part of his own body.
Of all places, it was between his buttocks—a deeply awkward area. Yet his face was dead serious.
“Your mark is here. A place only your true bond could ever see.”
“….”
The mark was located deep within the body.
Even the Empress couldn’t see it herself—it was in a spot only the most intimate partner could see.
The only exception was a bath maid.
One day, while carefully washing her, the maid noticed the mark had changed—just a month before the wedding with Lescal.
In that one month, more than half the mark had disappeared.
By the wedding day, it was clear to anyone that the mark was incomplete.
There was no way she could consummate the marriage. The Emperor must not find out.
“So that’s why she kept avoiding it… Not because she disliked the Emperor.”
“Disliked?”
Ternaden scoffed.
“She loved Lescal so much, if love were food, she would have devoured him down to the last hair—even if it killed her.”
It made no sense.
“If she loved him… then she couldn’t have hidden it forever. Yet she went through with the wedding?”
“You think I didn’t try to stop her?”
Ternaden’s expression twisted.
“I warned her over and over. Said it was too dangerous. Told her to at least delay the wedding until she found a solution.”
But it was no use.
“Didn’t the Emperor suspect anything? If she kept avoiding intimacy, he must’ve wondered.”
“That’s the problem.”
Ternaden let out a ragged sigh.
“Anyone could see it was Lescal who should have been begging for affection, but he was always so indifferent.”
There was a reason they were called bonded. Just as the Empress loved the Emperor with every fiber of her being, he should’ve done the same.
But Lescal didn’t. He never sought her out, never expressed any need or desire. To him, Cartagena was no different from any other person—evoking no feeling at all.
The more he remained cold, the more she feared she wasn’t his true match.
Desperate, she reached out to a shaman and performed the spell. The Duke of Pielion paid a fortune from his family’s estate.
No one yet knew the result.
Running his hand through his hair, Ternaden made a suggestion.
“Let’s check the mark now. The spell might have worked.”
This wasn’t just the Empress’s problem anymore. If the mark hadn’t returned, the entire Pielion family might be condemned for placing a false mate on the throne.
“The blood of Elialden can’t survive past thirty without a mate. That’s what the first contract says. Lescal will try to initiate contact before then. He’s let it go until now, but not anymore. Do you understand what that means? You must have the bond mark before that happens.”
“I understand. But…”
“Damn it, we should’ve confirmed the mark was back before letting the shaman leave. I thought it worked since we hadn’t heard otherwise. Who would’ve guessed you’d lose your memory? Anyway, we need to check it now.”
Ternaden was speaking so casually that Rasilia momentarily forgot where the mark was located.
“Hurry, Sister. Turn around and take off your clothes.”
“…What?”
“That’s the only way to see it.”
It was impossible to forget where it was. Rasilia waved her hands, trying to compose herself.
“Wait. I’ll check it myself.”
“You can’t see it. …Don’t tell me you forgot that too?”
Ternaden stared at her with a deeply pained expression.
“I’ve already seen it many times. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“What do you mean? Why would you…”
“Don’t you remember?”
He stepped forward—so close his lips were nearly touching hers.
Just then—
Clack! Slam!
Without warning, the door burst open.
And the person who entered was the Emperor—holding an impossibly massive bouquet of roses.
that one hell of situation to be misunderstood girl 🤦🏻♀️
Why did he see it several times???? What’s their relationship?!!