32. The Nightmare That Night
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Rescal spoke toward Pipi.
His voice was low, almost a whisper, but somehow chilling. Maybe it was because the moonlight was too blue. That golden eye of his stood out even more starkly against the backdrop of the pale moonlight.
“Piiiii.”
Even Rasillia was slightly frightened, but Pipi remained calm. Almost smugly, he snuggled into her palm and declared that he was going to sleep there.
“Why you… Get lost.”
Rescal bared his white teeth. Pipi sharply turned his head and looked at Rasillia.
“Pii. Piii.”
Pipi whined sleepily, asking to have his head stroked until he could fall asleep.
‘He’s doing this on purpose…’
For some reason, Pipi hated the Emperor. The feeling was mutual.
“Didn’t you hear me? I said get lost.”
“Pii!”
Rescal reached out toward Pipi. Rasillia opened her mouth involuntarily.
“Your Majesty!”
“…?”
Rescal stopped, taken aback.
“You’re going too far over a little bird.”
“……”
Rescal frowned.
“That’s not going too far.”
“It certainly looks like it.”
“Why?”
Rescal looked deadly serious.
“Because Pipi is small. He doesn’t take up much space, so there’s no reason to kick him out. Even with three people, the bed is spacious.”
“It’s not about space.”
“Then what is the problem?”
Rescal’s lips twitched.
“If he stays like that…”
“If he does…?”
Rescal’s golden eye glanced at Rasillia’s hand, where Pipi was snuggling.
“…I can’t hold your hand.”
“Oh…”
…Why would you hold hands while sleeping?
Rasillia involuntarily wrinkled her nose.
“You held my hand during the day. Was there a quota you hadn’t met yet?”
“…No. That’s not it.”
“Then it’s not a problem.”
“……”
The golden eye slowly rolled once. Rasillia didn’t know, but that meant Rescal was desperately trying to come up with a reason to hold her hand.
“No, maybe it is a problem.”
If it is, it is. What do you mean, ‘maybe’?
Rasillia gave him a blank stare, as if urging him to go on.
“So if I do you a favor… I mean, I called in the imperial tailor.”
“What? I never asked you to call a tailor.”
“I heard your closet was half empty.”
She hadn’t realized such trivial things made it to the emperor’s ears.
“That may be true, but I still have more than enough clothes.”
“Then I can’t hold your hand?”
Once again, despite saying the weirdest things, the Emperor was completely serious.
At first it was a little funny, but now it wasn’t even that. Seriousness, it seemed, was contagious.
“…Sigh. No, you may.”
In the end, she gave in.
Giving away clothes she couldn’t even wear to Yvette wasn’t a big deal, but the fact that the emperor had found out and called a tailor made her heart feel a bit fluttery.
…Though he always demands something in return.
But if the price of refilling her wardrobe was just holding hands for a night, it felt almost stingy to say no.
“Then let’s do this. You can hold this hand, and Pipi can hold the other.”
“Pipi?”
“Pii!”
Both of them reacted—but to entirely different things—startling Rasillia instead.
“You gave him a name? Pipi?”
“Pii! Pipipit!”
Neither of them looked happy. Pipi insisted several times that his name was longer and fancier, and that Rasillia was the only one allowed to call him “Pipi.”
As for why the Emperor was upset, Rasillia had no idea.
“A name… you gave him a name.”
Rescal rubbed his temple and muttered,
“Then call me by my name, too.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Piiit!”
Whether it was the Emperor demanding to be treated like a bird just because the bird got a name, or the bird throwing a tantrum at the mere suggestion, Rasillia didn’t understand either of them.
“Is there anyone who calls Your Majesty by name?”
“Not right now.”
“Exactly. Because no one should.”
“But you can.”
“No. I can’t.”
“You can do anything.”
“……”
It felt strange.
Her heart, which had only been tickled before, now felt heavy.
She didn’t even understand what everything meant, but her heart weighed itself down anyway.
Why do I feel like this… It’s uncomfortable.
Rasillia subtly averted her gaze.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m still not used to you. I don’t think we’re close enough for me to call you by name.”
“So you might later?”
“I can’t say that. I don’t know myself.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? You even named the bird.”
“Because it’s a bird.”
“How’s that different?”
“How could a bird and Your Majesty be the same? And anyway, I’d like to sleep now. I’m worried we’re being too loud and disturbing others.”
“Pii! Pii!”
Pipi flapped his wings noisily, telling them to quit talking nonsense and go to sleep.
“…Fine, I’ll compromise with just holding hands for tonight.”
Compromise what, exactly?
Rescal pulled her hand over and grasped it. Pipi fluffed up like a ball of dandelion feathers in protest.
After giving Pipi a sharp glare, Rescal pressed a kiss to the back of Rasillia’s hand.
“If it’s not time yet, I’ll wait. Until the day you call my name.”
“……”
Feeling the soft touch of lips on the back of her hand, Rasillia bit her lower lip.
Ah, please… I wish he wouldn’t do this.
If he’d just grabbed and kissed her on impulse, she could’ve pushed him away and ended it.
But when the Emperor came at her like this—gentle and considerate—Rasillia found it much harder to respond.
It’s just… I didn’t expect this. That’s all.
She forced herself to remember the brief dream she had the day she died. The pain of a sword driven into her chest, the blood flowing, and the Emperor’s cold golden eye, devoid of any pity.
Don’t forget.
If I fall in love with this man… I’ll die.
Rasillia forced her voice to stay calm.
“I’d like to sleep now. I’m tired.”
“As you wish.”
The Emperor, who she thought would never let go, released her hand. While she blinked in surprise, he placed a pillow under her head.
“…Ah. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He tucked the blanket up to her chin and lay down straight beside her.
“Pii. Piipi.”
Pipi kept whining and fidgeting.
Rasillia gently stroked his soft head, counting the seconds.
Under the blanket, the Emperor pulled her hand back and held it tightly.
Lying side by side, holding hands, trying to sleep—it felt very strange.
That night, Rasillia had a nightmare.
But it didn’t feel very different from reality. In the dream, she stood in the middle while a demon and a red-feathered bird argued on either side of her.
The difference was that in the dream, it wasn’t just a verbal fight.
When the red bird screeched, everything caught fire. When the demon waved his hand, blade-like winds rose and slashed through the flames.
She, in the middle, didn’t get hurt for some reason. But it was an intense dream, and Rasillia moaned and tossed through the night.
“Good morning, Empress. Did you sleep well?”
The morning began with Yvette’s bright greeting.
Rasillia, looking oddly weary, faced her as the maid drew back the bed curtains.
“No. I had a very long dream.”
“Oh my. What kind of dream?”
“…Not a pleasant one.”
Still feeling like she was standing between flames and a storm, Rasillia shivered slightly.
Then she realized—she was alone in the bed.
“Where’s Pipi?”
“Oh, Lady Ren is with the Duke.”
“With Duke Shuraiden? This early?”
“Yes. They had business together, apparently.”
Pipi and the Emperor had woken up at dawn. Pipi had started making noise, and the Emperor took him out of the room.
They’d bickered for a while, and then Pipi had gone off to find Duke Shuraiden.
The Emperor received a message and returned to the palace. Shadow Knight Rian Sigres had escorted him back with a grave expression.
“All that happened and I didn’t notice?”
Rasillia couldn’t hide her confusion.
The Prophet’s Room was stiflingly dark and quiet. Having spent her life in such an environment, Rasillia had naturally developed sharp hearing.
Prophets had a knack for falling asleep anywhere when divine revelations came, so waking up easily was part of her nature too.
It was hard to believe that two people had left her side and she hadn’t noticed at all.
“The bedchamber was quiet. And if you had a long nightmare, it’s no surprise you didn’t wake.”
Quiet, huh?
Somehow she imagined the Emperor yanking Pipi away and carrying him out as she slept.
“…Let’s go with that.”
Rasillia decided not to dwell on what might’ve happened while she was asleep. Even if the Emperor had acted as she imagined, it didn’t really matter.
“The Emperor said he wouldn’t be joining breakfast today. He was quite regretful.”
Good. That was actually a relief.
Rasillia threw off the blanket and sat up.
“What time is it? Did I oversleep?”
“No, Your Majesty. You woke at your usual hour.”
“That’s good. I’d like to wash up.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. The water is ready, this way.”
Yvette placed her slippers gently at her feet.
“Another message just arrived.”
Serven, looking grim, handed Rescal a secret letter.
It was the second message—unusual to receive two within hours. Something serious must be going on.
The letter came from the Secret Intelligence Knights under the Imperial Guard. Though technically under the Guard, few knew of their existence.
Their job was to gather intelligence across the Empire—whether helpful or threatening to the throne.
Just as the Emperor’s personal knight was called the Shadow Knight, this unit was known as the Silver Shield.
“What does it say this time?”
Rian, who was lounging on the window sill rather than the office floor as usual, jumped down quickly.
The first letter had informed them that a priest from the Harios Temple had secretly visited the House of Marquis Pashard.
The second message described what happened next.
“The marquis and his wife boarded a carriage. It appears they are headed to the Harios Temple.”
Rescal furrowed his brow. Rian clenched his temple, veins bulging.
“What the hell…? So right after the Marquis started spouting nonsense about the Empress’s secret, the temple snatched them up?”
