[12] Chapter 2. The Desired Image (5)
“But that imperial illegitimate child you’re talking about—it’s most likely they don’t exist.”
Not long after Fernsiana came out of the bath, Ilias entered, carrying a tray piled high with food. It seemed like he was being considerate of Fernsiana, who still had minor injuries all over her body.
He set the food on the round table in the room and began buttering some bread. While drinking water, Ilias suddenly spoke up, and Fernsiana blinked as she shoved a piece of bread into her mouth.
“They don’t exist?”
“Yeah. Well, obviously, there’s no way there’d be an illegitimate child from Empress Arhid’s side. And from the Emperor’s side either…”
“There can’t be one from the Empress’s side?”
Fernsiana, who had just moved on to spreading jam on the remaining bread, tilted her head curiously. Ilias paused mid-sip, his eyes widening.
“Did you grow up on some remote island or something?”
He asked without hesitation, making Fernsiana’s eyebrow twitch again. Ilias rubbed the back of his head with both hands before continuing.
“She passed away 16 years ago. So naturally, there’s no way she had a child after that. And the two princes she had before that look exactly like the Emperor.”
“Oh, she died?”
“Yeah. …Wait, you didn’t know? Seriously, where did you grow up—never mind. Ahem. Anyway, the Emperor’s love for her was so deep that even now, he’s never taken another Empress. Of course, staying devoted to his first wife plays well with the public, but still, he hasn’t had a lover either. So the odds are low.”
“I see…”
Fernsiana stared at the rye bread in her hand, slowly processing what Ilias had said.
The chances of there being an illegitimate child were slim. The Emperor and Empress had a good relationship, and the Empress had died 16 years ago.
Then…
‘Could it just be someone who looks unbelievably similar?’
But what about Serlim’s dying wish that she retrieve the Emerald Tabula from the Emperor?
Could such a coincidence really happen? Serlim left instructions to go to the Imperial Palace, her mother disappeared, and then she saw a portrait in the palace that looked just like her mother…
‘If this wasn’t the past but just a dream…’
But Fernsiana already knew that was just wishful thinking. She blinked slowly, trying to hold back the tears welling up behind her eyes.
“I’ll look into it again once we get to the capital, but I’m telling you now not to get your hopes up too much.”
Saying that, Ilias took the squashed bread from her hand. She’d been gripping it so hard it was no longer edible.
“Ah, ugh…”
“Once you finish eating, we’ll reapply the ointment.”
“Ugh…”
Just as Fernsiana was replaying his earlier words in her mind, she snapped out of it to see Ilias smirking at her. Looking over, she saw ointments, bandages, and antiseptics all lined up proudly on the side table. She quickly shook her head.
“I’m already healed.”
“How could wounds from just this afternoon be healed already?”
“No, really! I mean it!”
“If you’re healed, then applying it one more time won’t hurt, right?”
“Come on, big bro will do it for you, so don’t worry and eat up!” Ilias cheerfully pushed more food in front of her—fresh bread, soup, chopped steak, and salad.
Fernsiana blinked up at the ceiling. Of course, saying she was healed had been a lie, and Ilias had firmly held her down when she tried to slip away.
There was no trace of his earlier joking demeanor. In the end, Fernsiana had to obediently stay still, tearfully muttering about the pain.
After draining all her energy, she had dozed off, only to wake up in the middle of the night.
Turning her head slowly, she looked to the side. Ilias was fast asleep in the bed next to hers, his breathing soft and steady.
‘Did Ilias move me here?’
She had been in the rocking chair across the room. Now she was in bed—and aside from Ilias, there was no one else who could’ve moved her. Fernsiana turned her head back to the ceiling.
A faint starlight slipped through the curtains, brushing over the chandelier before disappearing. She blinked slowly. She couldn’t tell whether it was her mood that was heavy or her body that felt off. Either explanation seemed plausible.
‘Empress Arhid died 16 years ago…’
But did she really die? What if that Empress was someone else? What if…
It should’ve been a ridiculous, far-fetched idea, but she couldn’t dismiss it. Her thoughts were swirling. She was seventeen this year. Counting the years, it matched up.
‘Maybe they said she died because she left the palace?’
That was a plausible theory. It could also explain how the Emerald Tabula, supposedly passed down only through the Imperial line, had ended up in her family’s hands. Perhaps it was entrusted for a reason.
And more than anything—what she saw in the future.
That massive portrait hanging in the palace, painted exactly like her mother Eiroide. The two people she met there had mistaken her for the Empress at first glance.
She knew how much she resembled her mother. That man who had called her “Mother” was probably one of the princes.
Since she didn’t recognize him, he was likely the second prince who had not yet appeared publicly. Even the future Ilias had called her Empress when he first saw her…
‘Ah?’
Her eyes widened as a realization struck.
‘Wait… now that I think about it…’
Ever since she’d met Ilias in Ronen, he had only ever brought up the Empress or the Imperial family when she brought up the topic herself. He never said she looked like anyone.
‘Huh?’
Her appearance hadn’t changed. Yet Ilias hadn’t made any connection between her and the Imperial family.
‘Does he not know what the Empress looked like? Or not yet?’
It was hard to accept. Even giving Ilias a generous age of early twenties, he should still know what the Empress looked like—especially considering he was going to become the Crown Prince’s closest informant in just a few years.
‘…What is going on…’
No matter how much she thought or tried to figure it out, it only became more confusing. Fernsiana sat up from bed, her body aching and exhausted. The pain from her injuries and her constant overthinking had completely chased away sleep.
With Ilias asleep, she decided to sneak off for a bath and clear her head.
Thanks to the nearby hot springs, warm water flowed freely at any time. She filled the tub and soaked in it for a long time before finally standing up. As the heated air brushed past her skin, her body relaxed.
Fernsiana looked down at herself. Though the worst of the injuries were on her sword hand, the rest of her body was covered in small cuts. But thanks to Ilias thoroughly applying ointment, the wounds had improved considerably.
“Just taking a bath made me sleepy…”
Her body ached—likely from muscle pain. After all, she had jumped into a brutal sparring match today without any warm-up. She was definitely going to feel it tomorrow. Muttering that, she dried off with a towel. Then, as she reached for the underwear she’d left folded nearby—
“Huh…?”
She lightly brushed her lower abdomen, frowning at a strange ache. Though she’d dried off, she suddenly felt something wet trickling down her legs. She blinked—and saw a red stain drop onto the floor.
Fernsiana froze, unmoving in shock. Then she quickly checked her body.
None of her wounds were bleeding.
It was menstruation.
And the dull pain in her abdomen—she had felt it many times before in the future. It was unmistakable.
“We’re almost at the capital too…”
She looked near tears. Everything felt bleak. The only small relief was that Ilias had already figured out her real gender.
Sure, he might be flustered—but at least he wouldn’t be as shocked as someone discovering their male travel companion was menstruating.
But as soon as Fernsiana stepped out of the bathroom with her clothes in hand, she realized her assumption was wrong.
