Night covered the imperial palace in silence.

The lanterns along the palace corridors flickered softly beneath the cold wind, their golden glow stretching across the stone paths like fading memories.

The Emperor walked slowly through the quiet corridor leading back from the shrine.

Behind him followed only two guards at a distance.

No ministers. Uu

No servants.

No noise.

Only silence.

But inside his mind—

There was chaos.

—

Earlier at the shrine, while offering incense for peace and protection after the recent attack on the Empress, he had unintentionally overheard something that shattered his calm completely.

Two palace maids had been whispering quietly near the outer corridor.

They didn’t know he was there.

Didn’t know he could hear every word.

—

"...The Empress truly wants a divorce?"

"...I heard she said she doesn’t trust His Majesty anymore."

"...After everything that happened, who would?"

"...Still... His Majesty seems to care for her now."

"...Too late perhaps."

—

At that moment—

He stopped walking.

And for the first time in years—

The Emperor felt something close to fear.

Real fear.

—

Now, returning through the dark palace corridors, those words kept repeating in his mind.

She wants to divorce him.

The thought alone made his chest tighten painfully.

—

"How..."

He whispered softly to himself.

"How could I divorce her..."

—

His hand clenched slowly behind his back.

Impossible.

Absolutely impossible.

—

Because somewhere along the way—

Without realizing it—

She had become more important to him than anything else.

More than power.

More than pride.

More than the throne itself.

—

He loved her.

Far more deeply than he ever intended.

—

But the thing that tormented him most—

Was that he finally understood it too late.

—

The Emperor entered his study slowly.

The room was dimly lit.

Cold.

Empty.

He stood there for a long moment without moving.

Then finally sat down heavily.

His eyes drifted toward the unfinished scrolls on the table.

But he couldn’t focus.

Not tonight.

—

His thoughts were filled only with her.

—

The Empress laughing with her family.

The Empress helping servants prepare sweets.

The Empress smiling softly under lantern light.

The Empress looking at him carefully—

As if still uncertain whether to trust him.

—

That expression hurt him more than hatred ever could.

Because hatred meant emotion.

But uncertainty—

Meant distance.

—

He leaned back slowly and closed his eyes.

And memories began surfacing one after another.

Memories he once ignored.

Now impossible to escape.

—

The beginning of their marriage.

Cold.

Forced.

Filled with misunderstanding.

—

He remembered how furious he had been back then.

How convinced he was that the marriage was political manipulation.

How he treated her with suspicion from the very first day.

—

And she—

Never explained herself.

Never begged.

Never defended herself desperately like others would.

—

Instead—

She endured quietly.

—

That only angered him more back then.

Now—

It haunted him.

—

He remembered the punishments.

The cold words.

The nights he ignored her existence completely.

The moments he chose others over her.

Especially Lady Chen.

—

At that time—

He truly believed his feelings toward Lady Chen were love.

Now he realized—

It wasn’t.

—

Comfort perhaps.

Friendship.

Familiarity.

—

But not love.

Never love.

—

Because love—

Was this unbearable ache in his chest whenever he imagined losing someone.

Love—

Was the panic he felt seeing the Empress unconscious beside the lake.

Love—

Was spending nights unable to sleep because her breathing weakened.

Love—

Was realizing the palace felt empty whenever she wasn’t there.

—

And now—

Love was hearing she wanted to leave him.

And feeling like his world was collapsing.

—

The Emperor lowered his head slowly.

A bitter smile appearing on his lips.

"...I deserve it."

—

He really did.

—

If someone treated him the way he once treated her—

Would he trust them again?

No.

Never.

—

Yet somehow—

A selfish part of him still hoped.

Still wanted her to look at him differently.

Still wanted her to choose him.

—

His fingers pressed lightly against his forehead.

He felt exhausted.

More exhausted than any battlefield or political struggle had ever made him feel.

Because this—

He didn’t know how to fix.

—

Wars could be defeated.

Enemies could be executed.

Politics could be controlled.

—

But hearts—

Were different.

—

Especially hers.

—

The Emperor remembered that night at the Duke residence.

The moment inside her chamber.

How tense she became when he approached.

How instinctively she expected something forceful.

—

That memory stabbed into him sharply.

Because it showed clearly—

Even now—

She feared him a little.

Or perhaps not fear.

But caution.

Distance.

Lack of trust.

—

And he understood why.

—

Still—

When he kissed her forehead gently...

When he told her he would wait...

The way her cheeks flushed.

The way she turned away quickly.

—

That memory softened something inside him.

—

Maybe—

Just maybe—

There was still hope.

—

He stood slowly and walked toward the window.

Outside, the palace grounds stretched beneath moonlight.

Quiet.

Beautiful.

Lonely.

—

"She doesn’t trust me..."

He murmured softly.

"...Because I broke that trust myself."

—

No one else was responsible.

Not the Dowager.

Not palace politics.

Not misunderstandings.

—

Him.

Only him.

—

And now—

He had to live with the consequences.

—

The Emperor closed his eyes briefly.

Then exhaled slowly.

"...Forcing her will only push her further away."

—

He understood that clearly now.

—

She was already tired.

Confused.

Wounded by too many things.

The lake incident.

The assassination attempt.

The strange dangers surrounding her.

—

And on top of all that—

His feelings.

His sudden change.

—

Of course she wouldn’t trust it easily.

—

If he pressed harder—

She would retreat further.

—

No.

That would only make things worse.

—

The Emperor opened his eyes again.

A quieter determination settling inside him.

—

"...Then I’ll wait."

—

He would give her space.

Stop chasing so desperately.

Stop cornering her emotionally.

—

Let her breathe.

Let her calm down.

—

And when the time was right—

He would apologize properly.

Not as an Emperor demanding forgiveness.

But as a man who truly regretted what he had done.

—

And then—

He would try again.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Until she could trust him.

Until she could believe him.

—

Because he refused to lose her.

—

Not now.

Not after finally understanding his own heart.

—

The Emperor looked toward the distant direction of the Duke residence beyond the palace walls.

And for the first time in his life—

He made a promise not to the empire.

Not to heaven.

But to himself.

—

"...No matter how long it takes..."

"...I’ll bring her back to me willingly."

—

Not through power.

Not through obligation.

—

But through love.

Real love.

The kind he was only now beginning to understand

Night had fully settled over the imperial palace.

The cold wind brushed against the tiled roofs, carrying with it the faint scent of incense and winter plum blossoms.

Inside the Emperor’s courtyard, lanterns glowed softly beneath the dark sky.

But despite the peaceful appearance—

Someone inside was far from calm.

—

Lady Chen paced back and forth across the hall.

Her silk sleeves swayed sharply with every movement.

Her expression remained composed on the surface—

But underneath—

Irritation burned.

—

It was already late.

Dinner had long been prepared.

Yet the Emperor still had not returned.

—

The servants stood quietly at the side, lowering their heads.

No one dared speak.

—

Lady Chen finally stopped pacing.

"Has His Majesty returned yet?"

—

A guard immediately bowed.

"Not yet, My Lady."

—

Her brows furrowed slightly.

"...Where did he go?"

—

"No one knows."

—

Lady Chen pressed her lips together.

Recently—

The Emperor had changed.

—

Before, he would summon her frequently.

Spend time with her naturally.

Trust her.

Smile around her.

—

But now—

Everything felt distant.

Different.

—

Ever since the Empress nearly died—

The Emperor’s attention had shifted.

—

And Lady Chen hated it.

—

She turned again, pacing slowly.

Then suddenly—

Footsteps echoed outside.

—

The guards straightened immediately.

"His Majesty has returned!"

—

Lady Chen’s eyes brightened slightly.

Finally.

—

But before she could step outside—

The guard added,

"His Majesty has gone directly to the study."

—

She paused.

"...The study?"

—

"At this hour?"

—

The guard lowered his head.

"Yes."

—

Lady Chen’s fingers tightened slightly around her sleeve.

But she quickly calmed herself.

"...Prepare dinner."

—

The servants moved immediately.

—

"And send it to the study."

—

"Yes, My Lady."

—

A short while later—

Lady Chen personally carried the tray toward the study room.

The corridor was quiet.

Only the sound of her footsteps echoed softly.

—

When she reached the doors—

The guards bowed and opened them.

—

Inside—

The study was dimly lit.

Several scrolls lay open across the table.

Candles flickered softly.

And near the window—

The Emperor stood silently.

—

He wasn’t reading.

Wasn’t writing.

—

He was simply...

Lost in thought.

—

For a moment—

He didn’t even notice her entering.

—

Lady Chen’s eyes narrowed slightly.

That distant expression again.

—

The one she had begun seeing more and more often recently.

—

She stepped forward gently.

"Your Majesty."

—

The Emperor finally turned slightly.

"...You’re here."

—

His tone was calm.

But distracted.

—

Lady Chen placed the food carefully on the table.

"You still haven’t eaten."

—

"...I wasn’t hungry."

—

"You should still eat."

—

The Emperor nodded slightly but said nothing further.

—

Lady Chen studied him carefully.

Then asked softly,

"Where were you tonight?"

—

A brief silence followed.

—

Then the Emperor answered calmly—

"I went to the Duke residence."

—

Lady Chen froze slightly.

The Duke residence.

—

To see...

The Empress.

—

But her expression didn’t change.

Not even slightly.

—

Instead, she smiled gently.

"Is Her Majesty alright?"

—

The Emperor looked toward the candlelight.

"...She’s fine."

—

His voice softened slightly when he said it.

And Lady Chen noticed.

—

Every small detail.

—

Her nails pressed faintly into her palm beneath her sleeves.

But her smile remained graceful.

—

"That’s good."

—

The Emperor finally sat down.

Lady Chen poured tea for him quietly.

Then asked carefully,

"Did something happen?"

—

The Emperor’s gaze darkened slightly.

"...Someone targeted her outside the palace."

—

Lady Chen widened her eyes just enough.

"...Outside?"

—

"Yes."

—

He leaned back slightly.

"There was an ambush."

—

Lady Chen lowered her gaze instantly, hiding the flicker in her eyes.

"...How terrible."

—

But inside—

Her mind moved rapidly.

So the attack happened.

Good.

But...

Why was she still alive?

—

The Emperor spoke again, almost to himself.

"They knew exactly where she was."

—

Lady Chen looked up slowly.

"Do you believe someone is watching Her Majesty?"

—

The Emperor’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"...Perhaps."

—

He paused.

Then continued quietly—

"Or perhaps someone wants us to believe the danger is outside."

—

Lady Chen’s heartbeat skipped once.

But outwardly—

She remained calm.

—

"...What do you mean, Your Majesty?"

—

The Emperor looked toward the window again.

"The attack feels too deliberate."

"Too visible."

—

His voice lowered.

"Like someone is trying to redirect attention."

—

Lady Chen forced herself to stay relaxed.

"You suspect something else?"

—

The Emperor didn’t answer immediately.

—

Instead—

His thoughts drifted again.

To the lake.

To the strange incidents.

To the monk’s warnings.

To the Empress walking unconsciously into death.

—

Then finally—

"...I don’t know yet."

—

Lady Chen slowly exhaled internally.

Good.

He still had no proof.

—

She stepped closer gently.

"Your Majesty should rest."

"You’ve been thinking too much lately."

—

The Emperor glanced at her briefly.

Then nodded slightly.

"...Perhaps."

—

Lady Chen smiled softly.

"Eat first."

—

She carefully placed food into his bowl.

The same way she had countless times before.

But tonight—

Something felt different.

—

Because even while sitting beside her—

His thoughts were elsewhere.

—

With someone else.

—

The Emperor picked up his chopsticks slowly.

Then suddenly asked—

"...Do you think people can truly change?"

—

Lady Chen paused.

"...Change?"

—

"Yes."

—

His gaze lowered slightly.

"I used to think..."

"...the Empress only cared about status."

—

Lady Chen’s expression remained perfectly calm.

—

"But now?"

she asked softly.

—

The Emperor was silent for a moment.

Then answered quietly—

"...I was wrong."

—

The words struck her harder than she expected.

—

Her smile nearly stiffened.

But she controlled it instantly.

—

"...Your Majesty and Her Majesty are husband and wife."

"It’s natural to understand each other better over time."

—

The Emperor didn’t respond.

—

Because deep down—

He knew.

This wasn’t simple understanding anymore.

—

And Lady Chen knew it too.

—

That was what terrified her most.

—

The Emperor finally began eating quietly.

The room fell silent again.

—

Lady Chen sat beside him gracefully.

Looking calm.

Gentle.

Supportive.

—

But inside—

Her thoughts twisted violently.

—

The Empress survived death.

Survived the lake.

Survived the attack.

And now—

Even the Emperor’s heart was shifting toward her completely.

—

Lady Chen lowered her eyes slightly.

Hiding the darkness inside them.

—

"...No," she thought coldly.

"...I won’t lose."

—

Outside the study—

The cold night wind blew softly through the palace corridors.

And somewhere in the darkness—

Danger waited patiently.