Chapter 26. Between Instinct and Emotion
“……Mmm.”
Rasilia had slept unusually deeply that day.
She woke feeling refreshed for the first time in a while. The sun was bright, and the room was cozy.
In warmer seasons like now, they didn’t light the fireplace, so it usually felt a bit chilly at dawn—but not today.
It was an oddly pleasant morning.
Rasilia stretched with a content sigh—then spotted something shimmering beside the bed.
“Hm? What’s that?”
She pushed aside the blanket that had blocked her view and clearly saw the source of the glint.
It was the emperor’s golden hair.
“……Hm?”
In other words, the emperor had fallen asleep while sitting on the floor, his head resting against the edge of her bed.
“Why is he— Oh, right. The Blue Moon.”
They had to sleep in the same room because of it. Rasilia had expected, like the night before, that she would watch over the emperor with the shadow knights as he suffered through another transformation.
But apparently, she had fallen asleep first while waiting for him…
‘…So he just slept next to me?’
It was hard to understand. The Blue Moon had certainly risen last night.
Rasilia carefully moved closer to the emperor without making a sound.
There were no signs of bone mutations or blood.
Instead, he was dressed impeccably—looking flawless. Why he was sitting on the floor like that in such an uncomfortable posture was beyond her.
‘This is strange…’
She tilted her head.
‘What happened while I was asleep?’
His sleeping face, however, looked simply beautiful.
At first, she was trying to check for traces of transformation, but now she found herself just staring without a purpose.
‘…Humans, really.’
She found it amusing, even ironic, that someone called a prophet could be so affected by beauty. She gave a bitter smile.
‘At this rate, I’ll forget why prophets are forbidden to have mirrors in their rooms.’
It was to remind them not to trust what the eyes see. Vision can easily deceive. Prophets must look beyond appearances to perceive truth.
“…Anyway, I should wake him.”
The emperor was still fast asleep. Who knew how long he had been like that? But staying in such a position would surely hurt his body.
Rasilia got off the bed and tried to push him up by the shoulder. Lifting someone of his size into bed was out of the question, so pushing was the best option.
“Ugh—”
Despite using all her strength, it was impossible to lift him onto the bed.
Accepting defeat quickly, Rasilia laid him down on the floor instead.
She brought over a pillow and placed it under his head, then covered him with a blanket.
That was all she could reasonably do.
Just as she turned to change from her nightgown into her underdress before the maids arrived—
“You didn’t cover me properly. Over here.”
“…?”
He was staring straight at her with alert golden eyes, as if he’d never been asleep.
Tap—he tapped the floor beside him with the tip of his finger.
“…So?”
“I thought you might want to cover me properly again.”
Her expression darkened.
“So?”
“I mean, I don’t want you to leave.”
“……”
“…I guess you didn’t like that.”
The emperor sat up.
A moment ago, he had been so deeply asleep that he wouldn’t have stirred even if nudged—but now he looked completely alert.
“Were you pretending to be asleep?”
Rasilia asked, her tone suddenly cold. The emperor’s golden eyes wavered faintly.
“…Partly.”
“For what reason? Were you watching to see if I’d do something?”
“No, it wasn’t like that.”
Rasilia gave him a flat, unbelieving look. Lescal hurriedly explained.
“I was asleep. But I woke up when you did. And then…”
“And then?”
“You kept looking at me.”
“That’s why you pretended to sleep?”
“You didn’t seem to dislike it.”
“…?”
His answer was so unexpected that Rasilia was momentarily stunned.
“You’ve never looked at me like that when I was awake. You’ve never tucked me in either. So…”
“So?”
“I liked it.”
“……”
Rasilia involuntarily frowned. Not because she disliked what he said—but because she was flustered.
‘Such a small thing…’
The idea that he pretended to be asleep just because he liked something so minor—it was unfamiliar.
She understood that under the Blue Moon, a demon’s blood made them crave a mate. That instinct was primal, desperate.
‘But this is… different.’
That instinct wasn’t supposed to involve emotion or will. It was pure, uncontrollable need.
But now, what the emperor said—liking something small and ordinary—felt… different. She didn’t know exactly how or why, but it made her uncomfortable.
“…I see.”
“Do you stop liking me when I talk with my eyes open?”
His face stiffened slightly as he asked.
Now that she was aware of it, she realized his expression showed a cautious concern for her reaction.
“…Not necessarily.”
Rasilia tried to calm the strange stirring inside her.
Whatever it was, getting emotionally involved with the emperor wasn’t a good idea.
“What I dislike, Your Majesty, is when you say strange or difficult things. When you’re asleep, at least you don’t do that.”
“Give me an example.”
“Like just now, asking me to re-cover you with the blanket. You were awake—you could’ve done that yourself. Asking me to do it sounded like you were trying to mess with me.”
“I absolutely wasn’t.”
Lescal suddenly rose and stood before her.
The gesture, made in haste, was difficult for a human to interpret.
He moved too quickly, soundlessly. His golden eyes were brilliant, but his face was expressionless. All Rasilia saw was his blank look suddenly close to hers.
“I would never want to hurt you. If I ever do, it means I made a mistake without realizing it. Please tell me when I do. So I can ask your forgiveness.”
“……”
And somehow, Rasilia felt as if she had just figured out how to read his expression.
He was anxious from being misunderstood.
“In that case…”
“Please tell me. Promise me you will.”
“…I will.”
Lescal exhaled softly. He was relieved.
“Thank you. In advance.”
‘…He really means it.’
Rasilia sighed quietly.
This wasn’t good.
It wasn’t enough that she found his sleeping face beautiful—now she was starting to read his expressions and accept his emotions.
‘I know I shouldn’t.’
The ending between herself and the emperor was already decided.
She was trying everything she could to avoid it.
But if she kept understanding and feeling like this… she would eventually fall in love with him—and the emperor would end up killing her.
“There was no transformation last night?”
Rasilia stepped back and changed the subject.
“Ah… Now that you mention it.”
He looked like he didn’t even know what had happened the night before.
Still, it was a good thing. No transformation likely meant the Blue Moon was waning.
“Then perhaps it’s time you returned to your room. I need to wash now.”
“……”
The emperor pursed his lips slightly, looking at her.
It looked like disappointment.
“…I suppose you’re right.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Rasilia quickly bowed and fled to the bathroom.
Now that she could understand the meaning behind the emperor’s expressions, the lingering impressions in her mind made everything much more complicated.
“Your Majesty the Empress. Today is your bathing day.”
The Marchioness of Pashard stood with seven handmaidens lined up behind her like a squadron of knights and spoke firmly.
Her expression was stern.
Ever since she began recognizing the emperor’s subtle expressions, Rasilia had also grown sensitive to others. The Marchioness’s openly hostile look was glaringly obvious.
It was the look of someone fully prepared for battle.
“Is that so?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Please stand this way. It’s best to enter the bath before the steam dissipates.”
The Marchioness gave a courteous bow and beckoned politely.
“I will assist with disrobing.”
But the true purpose was intimidation.
The Marchioness was clearly aware that the Empress was hiding the marks of her fading existence—and had deliberately brought all the maids to pressure her into revealing herself.
It was a direct challenge: Let’s see you keep your secret now.
“Ah, I forgot to mention something.”
Rasilia, unexpectedly, was already prepared.
“Mention what, Your Majesty?”
“From now on, Lady Shuraiden will be attending me during baths.”
“What? What do you mean?”
The Marchioness’s neck strained with shock.
They had never heard of any Lady Shuraiden in the Empress’s palace.
“I appointed her as my maid yesterday with His Majesty’s approval.”
“Yesterday? And you say nothing to us beforehand—!”
The Marchioness’s voice began to tremble.
Rasilia was not used to these power games, but she knew that the handmaidens of the Empress’s court were the pinnacle of courtly power, a mini version of high society. And among them, the First Handmaiden, Marchioness Pashard, held immense influence.
To have a complete stranger suddenly rolled into their ranks was a massive shock.
“Do I need to inform you every time I choose someone to serve me? I don’t think so.”
“Your Majesty, the palace has its customs and precedents. That kind of decision—”
“You’re lecturing me about customs now?”
Rasilia frowned.
Though it was a habit from her time as a prophet, it suited the Empress’s authority just as well.
“Do you not know who the Empress is?”
The Marchioness’s face turned pale. But backing down meant losing everything. And she knew the former Empress Cartagena far too well.
“Still… the bath is an important matter. It should be handled by the First Handmaiden, as always.”
Unfortunately for her, Rasilia was not Cartagena.
“Then Lady Shuraiden shall become the First Handmaiden.”
“What…? Your Majesty, how can you say such things so lightly?”
“Even by rank, it makes sense. She is the daughter of a Duke.”
The Marchioness involuntarily raised her voice.
“That’s absurd! There is no Shuraiden ducal house in the Empire!”
Rasilia simply smiled sweetly.
At that moment, a cheerful voice rang out from beyond the bathroom door.
“Coming in, my lady!”
“Oh—uh? Did you already know I had arrived, Your Majesty? Then I shall enter!”
Slightly flustered, Ivette opened the door and stepped inside.
“I greet Your Majesty the Empress! What a wonderful morning it is!”
“Pii!”
The maids were struck speechless.
“You’re…!”
