16.
When Philomel returned to her room, Countess Deles greeted her.
“Your Imperial Highness, welcome back.”
“Was there anything of note while I was away?”
“Nothing at all. I have prepared your bathwater.”
“Thank you. I’ll just remove my gown and go straight in.”
The maids helped her out of the stifling dress.
“Do you intend to go to bed after your bath?”
“I plan to look at these before I sleep.”
She pointed to the stack of papers on her desk—documents regarding the imperial internal budget for the coming month.
“Please don’t push yourself too hard.” The Countess looked at her with concern.
“I’m fine. It’s just a mountain of numbers; nothing too difficult.”
“……Are you sleeping well these days?”
“Of course.” Philomel offered a flawless smile.
The Countess looked as though she wanted to say something more, but when Philomel signaled for her to rest, she withdrew. Philomel dismissed the remaining maids, washed up alone, dried off, and changed into her nightgown.
Being alone—where she didn’t have to wear a mask—was a relief. Her body felt leaden, yet she sat at the desk to review the documents. The seat beside the Emperor remained vacant to this day. There were many women who targeted Eustis, still a man in his prime, but no one had succeeded in seducing him.
Some time ago, Philomel had taken over a portion of the Empress’s duties that the Emperor had been handling personally. After wrestling with dense rows of figures for an hour, her eyes began to burn.
“Have I been living too diligently?”
Philomel muttered, leaning back against the chair and letting her body go limp.
As the Emperor’s successor, her duties were already immense; adding the Empress’s workload on top of that was agony. In the novel, the original Philomel lived without doing a lick of work, simply burning through the Imperial treasury. Because she was such a degenerate, the Emperor and the Imperial family had essentially given up on her. In contrast, the current Philomel, who shouldered such heavy responsibilities, was the model princess everyone expected her to be.
*Living like a mouse. Making sure no one has to pay attention to me, making sure they don’t even know I’m there.*
Whenever she was alone, the words she had overheard six years ago, while spying to confirm the Emperor’s true feelings, would resurface. When she first heard those words, she had intended to live exactly as he wished—to be buried in a corner of the Imperial Palace and forgotten.
However, as she executed one facet of her escape plan after another, she found herself forced into this life of constant diligence. She had only intended to put in enough effort to avoid being hated, but as it turned out, “enough” for a successor was a rather high bar.
Philomel stretched her arms high above her head.
“I’ve lived this kindly and diligently, so if it’s revealed that I’m a fake, surely they wouldn’t kill me? Maybe they’ll let me off with a few years of rotting in a cell.”
The best-case scenario would be to succeed in her escape and live forever in the shadows, but she had to prepare for any contingency. Regardless, there wasn’t much time left now.
“I just need to hold on a little longer.”
Philomel took out the key she kept hidden and opened the safe. Inside were a jewelry box, cash, and a book. She pulled out the latter. The cover was a mundane foreign language dictionary, but as she opened it, the pages of *Princess Ellensia* came into view. It was a perfect disguise.
The pages, yellowed from repeated readings, fluttered as she flipped through them. She stopped at the most familiar scene: the description of Philomel’s execution.
*I don’t want to die……!*
Whenever she felt like giving up, she would open this passage to steady her resolve. Lately, however, her heart was in turmoil. When she thought of the future where she would leave this place and become free, joy and loneliness warred within her. It was a truly contradictory state.
Survival. That was the first, second, and third priority. Let her focus only on that for now.
Philomel sat in the dark room, gently stroking the paper.
***
One day before her birthday, Philomel’s party arrived in Utina, leading a long line of attendants.
Having been a cherished vacation spot for the Imperial family for generations, Utina boasted breathtaking scenery. If one had to name the highlight, it was undoubtedly Lake Utina, and the detached palace had been built near its banks.
Philomel was crouched by the shore, watching the water. Just as she reached out toward the clear, deep surface, a soft, low-pitched voice reached her ears.
“It is dangerous to go too close.”
Philomel dusted off her skirt and rose to her feet.
“Are you worried I might fall in?”
“If it was an unnecessary worry, I apologize.”
Though he was only seventeen—just a year older than Philomel—Nasar bowed his head with the maturity of a full-grown adult. Standing tall, with platinum blond hair that had deepened in color and sculpted features, Nasar had almost completely shed his boyish appearance. He was near the perfect male lead described in the novel. Moreover, as a young Duke now assisting his father in leading the Duchy, he was a fixture on the political council.
“It’s fine. I’ll accept the young Duke’s concern and stop my lake viewing here. More than that, do you have something to say to me?”
“Would you grant me the honor of sharing a cup of tea with Your Highness?”
“Coincidentally, I already had tea with His Majesty the Emperor a while ago. You’d better find another partner, young Duke.”
Philomel turned her gaze toward the young ladies on the bridge in the distance. The eyes that had been watching her immediately busied themselves looking elsewhere. They were the daughters of ministers who had accompanied them on the outing, all hoping their daughters would form close ties with the Princess. The goal was, almost certainly, the position of Philomel’s lady-in-waiting.
Philomel had not taken in any ladies-in-waiting yet, with the exception of Countess Deles. A position as an attendant to a princess who might one day become Emperor was certainly worth coveting. However, the young ladies seemed far more interested in the handsome young Duke.
“No. If Your Highness has already had some, then I am fine as well.”
The corners of Nasar’s eyebrows dipped downward—a beautifully sorrowful expression. Had it been when she still harbored a crush on him, she wouldn’t have been able to refuse, but to the current Philomel, it stirred nothing. He was merely feeling regretful for failing to properly perform his role as the Princess’s fiancé. Since Nasar had always brilliantly accomplished what others expected of him, he must find this one flaw deeply irritating.
If she could, Philomel would have told him not to worry.
*When Ellensia appears, you will become the perfect partner for the Princess.*
But she couldn’t say that.
“Then I’ll be going. Young Duke, please continue to enjoy the scenery.”
“……The lake is truly beautiful.” His voice pulled at her departing footsteps. “I see why Your Highness visited this place so often. I think I, too, shall come to love this place deeply starting today.”
Philomel walked on without looking back.
In the novel, there wasn’t much information to pinpoint where Ellensia lived. There was only a passing mention that she often played by Lake Utina, indicating the village was in the vicinity. But were there only one or two rural settlements nearby? It had been years since Philomel began searching for that village, using these outings as a cover. Thanks to that, those around her assumed the Princess simply had a special affection for the lake.
That misunderstanding would end tomorrow. Because she had finally found Ellensia during her last visit.
“Your Majesty, did you call for me?”
It was after dinner when she was summoned by the Emperor. It was rare for him to call for her at this hour, so Philomel headed to his quarters with a sense of bewilderment.
“Sit here.”
Eustis, in comfortable attire, pointed to the seat across from him. A chocolate cake was placed on the table.
*I already ate the dessert that came with the meal, so why cake?*
Moreover, it was a whole cake. They had often had sweets during tea time, but this was the first time an entire cake had been served. As Eustis picked up the cake knife himself, Philomel reached out.
“I will do it.”
“It’s fine. Here, take it.”
“Yes, thank you for the meal.”
Philomel took the portion of cake placed on her plate. Why would the servant bring a whole cake that was so inconvenient to slice?
He remained silent until Philomel sipped her tea and finished half the piece. An awkward silence stretched between them as they avoided each other’s gazes.
*It’s uncomfortable!*
She could read nothing from his expressionless face. Philomel desperately searched for a topic of conversation. Through years of experience, she had acquired the ability to draw out smooth, sterile conversation from this man: politics, social matters, diplomacy, the state of the world. Topics that meant nothing, allowing them to talk without touching on their true feelings.
*Good. Let’s go with the smuggling of fabric woven from fairy wings through Shuvan.*
But before Philomel could speak, he pushed something toward her. It was an ebony box the size of an adult’s palm.
“It’s your birthday present.”
“Ah…….”
Only then did Philomel realize why the Emperor had called her.
“I originally intended to give it to you tomorrow……. but tomorrow might be busy, so just take it now.”
“Thank you.”
She received the box in a daze. When she opened it, a golden object was revealed.
“A model ship…… is it?”
Philomel placed the golden ship onto her palm. The detail was as intricate as the real thing, sleek and luxurious. Equipped even with an awning to block the sunlight, it looked like a pleasure boat for aristocrats.
“That is the miniature version; the real one is still under construction. The build time turned out to be longer than expected.”
“If it were the real one……?”
“I mean a boat you can ride. Once it is completed, I intend to launch it on Lake Utina, so come and ride it whenever you like.”
“……I see. Thank you.”
Philomel mindlessly repeated the words of thanks. It was the first time. Receiving a gift directly from the Emperor, and…… being congratulated on her actual birthday.
“That is merely a model, but unlike the real one, you can display it in your room. I heard a report that the boat wouldn’t be finished by the time of the outing, and Polan recommended this. And…….”
Today, strangely, Eustis spoke more than Philomel. Usually, it was always the opposite.
“Your birthday is tomorrow, but I will say it in advance. Happy sixteenth birthday, Philomel.”
The profile of the Emperor as he spoke looked gentle for some reason. It even seemed, just a little, as if he were shy.
The feeling was strange. Her stomach was churning.
*Tomorrow is your daughter’s birthday, not mine! My real birthday is today!*
She was dying to shout it out loud. The words that couldn’t escape her lips scattered like bubbles, and Philomel simply brought the birthday cake to her mouth.
The chocolate taste spreading over her tongue was agonizingly sweet.