19. Dream and Reality
“If Your Majesty wishes to bathe, you’ll need an attendant. Shall I summon the head maid?”
“No. I don’t need one. You can just pick out some clothes for me… No, that won’t do. Call Persson.”
There was one misunderstanding Rasillia had: Rescal was the person in the Imperial Palace who cared the least about appearances. The reason he’d been dressing like a man from a painting the past few days was entirely because of Rasillia.
Normally, he would’ve just thrown on whatever clothes Rian brought over. But now, things were different.
On top of that, Rescal was feeling extremely withdrawn after what had happened the night before.
He couldn’t just wear any clothes.
He had to appear at least a little better in front of the Empress.
It was probably already too late, but still—just in case.
“…Understood.”
Rian opened the bathroom door.
It was a completely natural motion, but it didn’t escape Rescal’s eyes.
“You’re using your left hand. Is your right arm bothering you?”
There was blood on his right shoulder. A wound he’d claimed was just a scratch from Serven.
“I thought I should be careful for a day or so.”
“…Was it something you couldn’t block?”
“It’s just… last night wasn’t normal.”
The transformations Rescal experienced during the Blue Moon and the pain that came with them were familiar to the shadow knights.
But last night had been different. Rescal had never before burst out of his bedroom, breaking through three thick iron bars on the door, simply due to a transformation.
He experienced pain, yes, but never lost reason like a blank slate. Normally, he would just suffer in silence inside his room.
“It wasn’t just that I couldn’t block him… He was simply beyond my ability to stop. I didn’t even have time to draw my sword—His Highness just passed me by.”
The sword broke before he could even swing it. He still didn’t fully understand how his shoulder had been injured.
Last night, Rescal had just been… terrifying.
“And the transformation was the most complete I’ve ever seen. The bones that protruded from his back almost looked like fully formed wings. In my opinion, with His Highness’s thirtieth birthday approaching, the transformation is accelerating.”
“…”
Rescal clenched his teeth.
Rian understood how he felt. He, too, would have fallen into utter despair—if not for the Empress.
If he hadn’t seen the way His Highness reverted to human form the instant her hand touched him.
“That’s why, Your Majesty, you should simply share a bedroom with the Empress. Blue Moon or not. Actually, just consider yourselves one body. Think of Her Majesty as a grand accessory—keep her attached to your person at all times.”
“…?”
“This is the second time the transformation has stopped because of Her Majesty. The first time could be dismissed as coincidence, but not the second. Her Majesty is truly your fated mate.”
“…Would she even want to stay with me?”
Rescal asked hesitantly.
“She saw me transformed. It would be natural for her to run away in fear.”
“Ah, about that—”
Rian suddenly grinned.
Not a mischievous smirk or a self-mocking one, but a genuine smile. Rian was truly pleased.
“She said you were handsome.”
“…What? Who?”
“Her Majesty.”
“Who did she say that about?”
“You, Your Majesty.”
Rescal frowned in confusion.
“She didn’t say that last night, did she? She saw me transformed.”
“She said it didn’t look that strange. That your features were still the same.”
“…?”
The confusion deepened. His golden eyes trembled as though rocked by an earthquake.
“…Is the Empress insane?”
“That’s probably what it means to be a destined mate, isn’t it?”
Rian’s expression grew serious.
“She has to be able to suppress the demon blood. The original demon who started the Eliaeden line wouldn’t have bound himself to an ordinary human.”
“Still, the Empress…”
Rescal was still hesitant. Rian shook his head, frustrated.
“You can’t say that, Your Majesty. The transformation is accelerating, which means time is running out. It no longer matters why the Empress rejected you before, or what feelings she holds toward you. There’s no room for such concerns anymore.”
“…”
“And just my opinion, but I don’t think the Empress’s feelings toward you are entirely negative.”
Rescal’s golden eyes narrowed—sharp and sensitive.
“Why do you think that?”
“She said you were handsome.”
“What does that have to do with feelings? I thought the Empress was beautiful too when I first saw her.”
“Trust me, Your Majesty. If someone truly hates and fears you, the word ‘handsome’ never comes out of their mouth.”
“…”
Rescal still found it hard to believe.
Rian, thinking the road ahead was long, gently pushed him into the bathroom.
“I’ll go fetch the head maid now.”
“Ah… But hasn’t the Blue Moon ended already?”
While Rescal bathed, Rasillia had also washed her face and changed clothes.
She hadn’t particularly stopped Rescal from returning—but looking out the window, the sun was shining brightly.
The Blue Moon was over. The next one wouldn’t come for another three months. With luck, the priest from Dellarta would arrive before then and help her find a way out of the Empire.
In any case, the Blue Moon was over. The Emperor would now go back to his usual indifferent self.
He should, anyway.
“No, Your Majesty.”
One of the palace attendants, helping Rasillia dress in place of Marchioness Pashard, spoke cautiously.
“No?”
“The Blue Moon doesn’t set for three days. It remains in the sky even during the day. It’s just not easily visible because of the sunlight.”
“Oh… I see.”
In southern Dellarta, the Blue Moon didn’t appear. It was most visible in the Eliaeden Empire and a few surrounding nations.
“Three days. So there are still two left.”
Would the next two nights be a repeat of last night?
As long as no one got hurt, it wouldn’t be unbearable. After all, the man who had lost his mind had done nothing but tightly hug her.
But he didn’t lose his mind from the start… The transformation process would still be painful.
Just thinking about that weighed heavily on her chest.
It wasn’t her fault. She had just happened to end up with the body of the Empress. But why did it feel like she was the one doing something wrong?
Rasillia let out a small sigh.
The heavier these feelings got, the clearer it became—she needed to leave quickly. Only then would the Emperor find his true mate.
Her aversion to the two remaining days was now mixed with guilt, making it even more complicated.
‘Right. Two days.’
She could endure two more days.
If he bled, she’d clean it. If he held her, she’d let him. If he was in pain, she’d stay by his side. Refusing even that would be too heartless.
Tap. Tap tap.
Clatter, tap. Tap tap.
Then a small sound came from the vanity drawer.
“…? What is that?”
Rasillia opened the drawer where the sound came from.
Among bottles of perfume, a red stone was rolling around, knocking against them.
It was the stone the black bird had dropped off yesterday.
It looked a lot like the egg from her dream—but surely it was just a stone.
A dream is just a dream.
“Why is this here?”
“Ah—!”
As Rasillia picked up the stone, the attendant who had been smoothing her skirt suddenly prostrated herself.
“I—I put it there, Your Majesty! While cleaning the bedchamber, I found it sitting carefully on the window sill, so I thought you had left it there intentionally. I meant to keep it safe… I’ve committed a grave sin! I didn’t even ask for Your Majesty’s permission! Please forgive me!”
“…? Why would that be a sin? You merely put my belonging somewhere safe. That’s no wrongdoing. Get up. You did nothing wrong.”
“A… Ah? R-Really?”
“You may rise.”
“Oh… Ohh… I-I am forever grateful, Your Majesty!”
It hadn’t been anything serious, but the girl’s reaction was extreme.
In that brief moment, she had genuinely feared punishment. Her face had gone pale. Likely because of how Rasillia had treated the maids in the past.
With the stone in hand, Rasillia continued speaking, glancing at the girl.
“In the future, for such small things, you don’t have to—”
She suddenly trailed off, looking at her hand.
Tap tap. Szzzt.
It should have been a stone—but she felt a faint movement from it.
“…Hm?”
Tap… szzzt!
That wasn’t all. A crack began to form and spread across one side of it.
“This is…”
“Peep!”
And then, from the cracked part, a tiny head suddenly popped out.
“Gasp!”
The maid who had just been trembling gasped loudly.
“S-Something came out of the stone…! No, no! It—it was an egg, Your Majesty!”
It wasn’t a stone. It was an egg.
She thought it had been a dream—but the egg from that dream was now resting in her palm.
“Peep!”
A tiny creature, not even able to open its eyes, cried out.
Strangely, Rasillia felt like she could understand what it was saying.
“Oh, do you want to come out?”
“Peep!”
“Alright. Just a moment.”
She gently placed the half-broken egg on the vanity table.
“I think I need to help crack the rest of it…”
The maid—quick-witted and deft with her hands—sprang into action.
Seeing the little creature already squirming impatiently inside the shell, the maid hurriedly opened a drawer and took out a thin glass stick.
“Would this work, Your Majesty? It’s a fresh wand we use to mix perfumes.”
“This is perfect. Thank you.”
“I—I’m honored!”
Tap, tap.
Rasillia gently tapped the remaining shell with the end of the glass stick.
Her effort paid off—the egg broke cleanly.
“Peep!”
The creature that emerged was a small bird. Tiny, yet it already had a beak and wing-like shapes.
It was still mostly pink, downy fluff instead of feathers—but Rasillia had a feeling it would grow to be a vivid, flame-like red.
After all, a single red feather already sprouted from the back of its head.
“Peep.”
The bird, upon opening its eyes, immediately hopped into Rasillia’s palm and began nuzzling its tiny head against her skin.
“Hello there. Where did you come from?”
“Peep.”
“…Huh?”
“Peep.”
Its answer shocked her.
“You… came from my heart?”
“Pardon? From your heart?”
Rasillia’s expression froze in surprise—and the maid also looked puzzled.
“Your Majesty… Can you understand what the bird is saying?”
