The Actress and the Emperor

When Franz dragged his exhausted body into his bedchamber, he was greeted by an absurd sight.

Absurd enough that he wondered for a moment whether his eyes were playing tricks on him.

Arisa sat on the bed, great eyes brimming with tears.

Not on the sofa. Not standing. Sitting. On. The. Bed.

Only then did he recall Michael Amesis slapping her cheek earlier.

Franz sighed inwardly.

It had been a wearying day of sparring with the nobles. As far as he could tell, those so-called leaders of society had not a shred of self-awareness—only an endless appetite for scheming how to gorge themselves further and fatten their bellies.

The worst of it was that he couldn't simply cut them down like demonic beasts; he had to persuade them, resolve things through civilized discourse however he could. That was the single greatest source of his exhaustion.

And now, having entered his chambers looking forward to a moment's rest and a report on Daisy's affairs, he had come face to face with the last person he ever wanted to see.

He briefly considered how best to flay the servant who had let this woman in, then concluded it couldn't be helped. Verdi himself had been the one forced to announce mid-meeting that the Empress was waiting outside. No mere servant could have held his ground against an Empress who was also the Archduke's daughter.

"Your Majesty."

In a voice thick with tears, Arisa let a single drop fall, rose from the bed, and sank to her knees on the floor. Her left cheek, flushed red, was unmistakably visible.

"Whatever brings you here? To see you walk into a room without its master and take a seat so boldly—the Empress truly takes after the Archduke."

It was an insult.

Objectively speaking, Arisa's beauty was more than enough to shake the hearts of any number of men with ease. It simply wasn't to Franz's taste.

He preferred someone a little bolder. More spirited. True to her emotions, hiding nothing, skilled with a sword, valiant—

He stopped there. It was far too clear whom that description pointed to.

I'm losing my mind.

Franz muttered it inwardly and turned his attention back to Arisa.

"I beg your pardon. I came only because I felt I must see Your Majesty, but then my father appeared so suddenly, and…."

Arisa let the words trail off and shed another tear.

"Did you have some business with me?"

Franz asked without telling her to rise. He simply wanted this situation over with as quickly as possible.

"Please forgive my father. He struck the cheek of the Empress in Your Majesty's own residence. He knew it was an act of disrespect—I'm certain there was some reason that left him no other choice."

Arisa pleaded for Michael Amesis's forgiveness with a heartbroken face.

"How many more times must I tell you that I don't care whether your father strikes your cheek or your neck?"

Franz settled onto the sofa and ran his long, slender fingers along the bone of his brow. It was a signal: I'm tired, get out.

"I came to beg Your Majesty's forgiveness."

Arisa suddenly bowed her head and struck her forehead against the floor.

"Forgiveness?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. When the matter of our marriage was first raised, I came to the palace and told you—we should make a contract."

"That remains the most pleasant thing the Empress has ever said to me."

Yet even at that icy remark, Arisa did not waver. She seemed like a woman who had plugged her ears and resolved to see her rehearsed performance through to the end.

"I've come to realize what a tremendous mistake that was. Your Majesty—somewhere along the way, living here, I came to love you truly."

"Pfft… HAHAHAHA!"

The moment the words left her mouth, Franz burst out laughing.

Arisa lost control of her expression, lifted her head, and shot him a cold glare for a moment before dropping it again.

"Forgive me. It's simply the funniest thing I've heard in some time."

"How can you dismiss my true feelings so lightly?"

Arisa raised her head again, her voice brimming with resentment.

"True feelings? What true feelings? Were you in love with me when you were carrying another man's child? Or did this love sprout only after you lost it?"

Franz had never once spent a night with Arisa. No—since their marriage, the number of times the two of them had even been alone in the same room could be counted on one hand.

So he knew exactly how shameless the words spilling from this woman were—this woman with the face of an angel who had so plainly inherited her father's blood.

"So you've been misunderstanding all along."

Arisa cast her eyes down pitifully, her voice trembling.

"Misunderstanding?"

"Yes. You may not care, Your Majesty, but the thought of being misunderstood by you is so distressing that I must tell you the truth."

"However little interest I may have, you clearly don't intend to leave until you've had your say. So speak. As briefly as possible."

Franz crossed his legs.

"I proposed the contract to you in the first place out of guilt. I knew my father meant to use me to grasp for power. And the other reason—I was already a defiled woman."

"…"

"The man who had been my tutor fell in love with my beauty and confessed to me again and again. And when I refused him, he forced…"

Arisa broke off there, wiping her tears, leaving the sentence unfinished.

Franz was now watching the scene with unfocused eyes.

With talent like that, she should have gone on the stage.

So Franz was thinking to himself.

"But even after I became Empress, that man never stopped blackmailing me. I had no choice but to see him. If the truth had been exposed, Your Majesty's position would have grown only more precarious. That is how the child came to be. When I learned of it, I meant to die with it. I didn't want to burden Your Majesty any further."

Arisa began to sob outright.

Franz said nothing at all and simply waited for the tears to run dry.

"So."

"Pardon?"

Arisa, dabbing at her subsiding tears, echoed the question in surprise.

"So what is the reason you suddenly developed feelings for me?"

His tone was one of utter indifference.

"It's not as though that man suddenly reformed. If he's still blackmailing you, wouldn't it have been better, by your own conscience, to simply leave as agreed three years from now?"

As if she couldn't believe his reaction after she had poured out tears, Arisa bit her lower lip and spoke.

"…That man is dead. When Father learned the truth, he dealt with him. After he vanished, I was finally able to think in peace—and then I understood. That I had loved Your Majesty from the very first moment I laid eyes on you."

It was, frankly, an astonishingly banal story.

Franz rose from his seat.

"I understand the Empress's position perfectly. But a contract cannot be broken simply because one party's heart has changed. Ours stands as it always was. It ends when the three years are up. There is no forgiveness to beg, and no need to beg it."

"But Your Majesty—does Your Majesty feel no pity for me at all? Am I not pitiable? A life spent under blackmail, forced to do exactly as I was told."

At her words, Franz's eyes turned cold.

"When I was with child, Your Majesty said nothing. I felt consideration in that. I realized that, contrary to the rumors, you were a flexible and generous-hearted man."

Without answering, Franz drew close to Arisa and lowered himself down.

Her long lashes were wet with tears.

"You are mistaken."

Franz said quietly.

"I said nothing when the Empress was pregnant because I had no interest whatsoever. Whose child it was, whether you would bear it, what would become of it after—not one of those questions interested me. So long as you filled out the term of our contract."

There was something chilling in that voice, and gooseflesh rose along the back of Arisa's neck.

"So I sincerely hope you never speak to me this way again. I don't know what has prompted this sudden change, and I have no wish to know. Gather everything you can lay hands on, amass a tidy fortune, and find your own path three years from now—that is the kindest thing I can say to you. And though this hardly needs saying, there is one thing you seem to have misunderstood."

Franz said as he rose to his feet.

"That something happened with another man does not, in my eyes, make a body defiled. If it were someone I wanted, I would gladly marry her even if she'd gone through three husbands and had four children besides."

With that, Franz walked unhurriedly to the door. Before stepping out, he glanced back.

"When I return to this room, I trust the Empress's shadow will be gone from it as well."

Then he opened the door and left.

Arisa collapsed where she sat, settling onto the floor. Only now that the tension drained away did her legs begin to throb.

She had expected it, but truly—this was no easy man.

Other men would have offered her their very lives at the merest flicker of a smile from her, but this one was utterly impossible to read.

When she had secretly ordered an investigation into whether any woman from his past connections might appear, not a single name had surfaced.

Shortly after, the door opened and the head maid came scurrying in.

"Your Majesty, how many times did I tell you this would not end well?"

The head maid helped Arisa to her feet and dabbed away her tears. All she knew was that Arisa was begging forgiveness for the carelessness of losing the child.

Arisa had already stopped crying, and was staring at the door through which Franz had departed with eyes gone cold.

"Where has His Majesty gone?"

She asked the head maid.

"Well… it seems he's gone to Sir Daisy's quarters. From what I hear, every evening he receives reports on how the search for the Magician's Heart is progressing."

The head maid answered while smoothing out the folds of Arisa's skirt with quick, practiced strokes.

"At this hour of night? He brushes off my words like water off a horse's back, yet he goes to that knight's room—all for a search for the Magician's Heart that can't possibly be bearing fruit?"

Only moments ago, the Emperor had not so much as twitched an eyebrow at the shocking story she herself had just told. There was no way the tale of some knight digging in the dirt day after day could matter more to him.

Unless there was another reason.

"Perhaps…"

Arisa began, and stopped.

"Perhaps what?"

The head maid pressed quickly, but Arisa did not answer.

Perhaps the Emperor has feelings for his knight.

Arisa barely swallowed the words.

And if such a variable truly existed—then she would have to prepare a different plan.