Chapter 2
Cotton lingered in the now-empty office, idly fidgeting with her hands for a while before making her way to the marital bedroom. Since the day of her wedding, she had been the only one to use it, so no one in the imperial palace regarded it as a couple’s chamber—but she stubbornly continued to call it one.
“Honestly, I knew this would happen. Why would you just go in there like that? We’re the ones who got scolded for it.”
As Cotton handed over the shawl draped around her shoulders and sank wearily onto the sofa, her personal maid, Sheldy, muttered as she tidied up. With her husband, Rickton, ascending the throne as emperor, Cotton had officially become empress. Ordinarily, one would be cautious in both speech and behavior before the empress, but Sheldy deliberately shook out the shawl roughly, making no effort to hide her irritation.
“Could you leave now? I’d like to rest.”
Yet Cotton did not reprimand her rudeness. It wasn’t in her nature to scold others, and she had neither the strength nor the energy left to do so. More than anything, she still didn’t fully understand what it meant to hold the position of empress. At her words, Sheldy’s expression brightened slightly, as if relieved to be rid of an annoyance, and after offering a perfunctory farewell, she left.
“You’ll be staying in your room, right? If you need to go out, call for me.”
It was something she always heard whenever she was left alone. She had once been grateful, thinking it was out of care—but only now did she realize it was meant to keep her from wandering.
“…I was such a fool.”
Not long after their wedding, the former emperor succumbed to illness and passed away. By his final decree, Prince Rickton immediately ascended the throne. Cotton had believed that was why she couldn’t see her husband. His father had just died—he must have been overwhelmed—and now he had to take on the burden of ruling the empire. How busy and exhausted he must be.
The incomprehensible words her husband had spoken to her the day after their wedding—she had decided she would ask him about them once things settled down. Even if she waited alone in an empty dining hall and ate cold food… even if she stayed up all night hoping he might come see her, only to fall asleep from exhaustion… even if she went to his office and turned back in disappointment at the endless silence beyond the closed door—it was all right. She believed that one day, when the misunderstanding was cleared, things would return to how they once were.
“So… you never intended to see me at all.”
Cotton lowered her heavy gaze. Though she spoke as if she had only just realized it, perhaps she had known all along. That must be why she had barged into his office without thinking.
Now that she faced the truth she had tried to ignore, a vivid pain pierced her, and her closed eyelids trembled. Where had everything gone wrong? The only answer she could think of was their wedding a year ago. That was when she first felt that the once-gentle Rickton had changed.
Did I make some kind of mistake that day?
It was a question that had never left her mind since then. But no matter how much she agonized over it, it was meaningless—Rickton refused to speak with her.
Forcing herself to push aside the crushing despair she had felt that day, Cotton struggled to her feet. As she stepped out and opened the door, she saw Sheldy and the other maids gathered in the corridor. They had been laughing together, clearly in the middle of an amusing conversation, but when Sheldy spotted Cotton, her brows subtly furrowed.
“Your Majesty, why did you come out without saying anything? I told you to call me if you were going somewhere.”
A maid scolding the empress—it was unthinkable. Yet Cotton, accustomed to it, simply apologized.
“I’m sorry. I was just going to head down to the first floor.”
“To the reception room again?”
Having already guessed where and why she was going, Sheldy tilted her head slightly out of Cotton’s line of sight and let out a quiet scoff before giving a careless nod. The emperor wasn’t in the palace anyway, so whether Cotton wandered around or not wouldn’t bring trouble upon her.
“If you see His Majesty returning, please call me.”
After answering that she would, Cotton moved on. She headed to the first-floor reception room, where the private entrance used by the emperor was most visible. She didn’t know when he would return—it could be an endless wait—but this way, she might at least catch a fleeting glimpse of his face.
Curious gazes followed the empress as she descended the central staircase. Once her figure disappeared from view, one of the maids glanced around to make sure no one else was nearby before speaking cautiously.
“She’s still the empress… What if we get in trouble for this?”
“Oh, you must be new. The empress would never report us to His Majesty.”
“No, it’s not that she won’t—she can’t. She’s already been abandoned.”
“And even if he knew, I doubt His Majesty would care enough to scold us.”
The maids laughed as they exchanged remarks. To them, the empress was nothing more than a title. A woman abandoned on her wedding night, ignored by the emperor—someone with no real power. The youngest maid, who had voiced her concern, looked bewildered at their reactions.
“I don’t understand. Then why did His Majesty marry her in the first place?”
“Probably because she’s Rhenedia Alphret.”
“Rhenedia Alphret?”
Her eyes widened in shock. The name ‘Rhenedia Alphret’ was one that no citizen of the Asven Empire would fail to recognize.
Ten years ago, not only the imperial palace but the entire empire had been shaken by a single topic.
The disappearance of Rhenedia Alphret.
She was the only daughter of a family so prestigious and powerful that even the imperial family could not treat them lightly. That woman was Rhenedia Alphret. Both the Alphret family and the imperial household had mobilized every possible resource, scouring the empire from top to bottom—but in the end, they never found her.
“Wasn’t she declared dead?”
“They assumed so since she couldn’t be found, but His Majesty brought her back a year ago.”
“And it was really Rhenedia Alphret?”
“The Alphret couple visited every single day back then. They came to see their daughter.”
“Oh, please.”
Sheldy suddenly inserted herself into the conversation, clicking her tongue. The youngest maid blinked in surprise, and Sheldy prompted her to think carefully.
“Have you seen the Alphret couple visit recently?”
“…Now that you mention it, I haven’t.”
“No one has. And why do you think that is?”
“Then…?”
“It’s because she’s not their daughter. That’s why they stopped coming.”
As if enjoying the younger maid’s astonishment, Sheldy waved her finger dismissively.
“That’s why people secretly call her the fake empress. Even now, if you ask her name, she doesn’t say Rhenedia—she says Cotton. She knows it herself.”
She covered her mouth as she laughed, as though the very idea was absurd. The other maids, already aware of the rumors, joined in.
“Does His Majesty know she isn’t the real Alphret lady?”
“Of course he does. He’s the one deceiving everyone. Didn’t he appear only after the marriage had already taken place, instead of holding a grand wedding blessed by all? And he brought someone who looked exactly like her, claiming she was Rhenedia Alphret. Why do you think that is?”
“But why?”
“Think about it. Why do you think the Second Prince became emperor instead of the First?”
“…Ah.”
A small exclamation slipped from the youngest maid as she began to piece it together—then she tilted her head again, recalling something else.
Though overshadowed by the massive scandal of the duke’s daughter’s disappearance, there had been another rumor whispered among the people during those ten years.
Wasn’t it said that the Second Prince was searching for his lost lover? And that the woman was supposed to be Lady Rhenedia?
She wanted to ask if it was true, but the others had already moved on, eagerly tearing into the empress once more. Their words flowed endlessly—“abandoned empress,” “empty shell,” “amnesiac impostor”—the names servants used behind her back.
Listening quietly, the youngest maid eventually waved her hand dismissively.
No way.
If the empress truly were the rumored lover, the emperor would never allow her to be treated like this. Even she, who had only recently begun working at the palace, could clearly see how the empress was treated—there was no way the emperor was unaware.
After all, he even ordered that she be watched and reported if she left her room.
Then the empress truly must not be Rhenedia Alphret.
Besides, there was that other rumor…
That Rhenedia hadn’t been kidnapped at all, but had fallen in love with another man and eloped—an outrageous claim that would have driven the Alphret family into a frenzy if they heard it. The youngest maid let out a small laugh.
Rumors really can’t be trusted.
Cotton sat on the sofa, gazing at the distant window. She had waited until the sun, which had climbed high above, began to sink and finally disappeared—but Rickton did not return.
“Perhaps he has many engagements outside…”
Even after everything that had happened yesterday, she still told herself he wasn’t avoiding her—just busy. The thought made her let out a bitter, crooked smile.
As she left the reception room to return to her chamber, she remembered that she hadn’t eaten lunch. Though she wasn’t particularly hungry, her physician had warned her not to skip meals, so she turned toward the dining hall, intending to at least have dinner.
Just then, a servant was leaving the hall, apparently having finished his meal. Cotton lightly tapped him on the shoulder as he adjusted his clothes.
“Excuse me.”
The man turned, and upon realizing it was the empress, a flicker of discomfort crossed his face before quickly disappearing. Having noticed that fleeting expression, Cotton simply stated her request.
“Could you… ask the head chef to prepare a small dish for me? It doesn’t need to be anything elaborate—just something light.”
The kitchen was always stocked with ingredients and simple foods, so it wasn’t an unreasonable request. The servant was about to head in to relay it when another person, who had been watching from the dining hall, grabbed his arm and spoke instead.
“We were the last ones. Everything’s already been cleared away.”
“…I see. Thank you for letting me know.”
Cotton nodded lightly and turned away. If there was nothing left, there was nothing to be done. At least she now had an excuse—the physician wouldn’t scold her too harshly.
She had just turned the corner toward the stairs when—
“Isn’t there at least something simple left?”
“Forget it. Don’t give her anything. We always serve meals on time, but she doesn’t eat and lets it all go to waste—now she wants more? It’s annoying.”
“Even if she’s fake, I guess an empress is still an empress.”
“A noble lady who eats only when she feels like it?”
Snickers followed. Their hushed voices, not nearly quiet enough, reached her ears.
But Cotton did not stop. She silently climbed the stairs.
No matter how much people tried to hide their true feelings, they always showed in subtle ways—the slight furrow of brows, the faint curl of lips, the irritation in their tone, the whispers carried from afar. There was no way she wouldn’t notice.
And yet, she remained silent.
After enduring their veiled mockery and scorn for an entire year, she had grown used to it. More than anything, she feared that even if she spoke up, nothing would change—that her husband’s cold indifference would remain exactly the same.
