The Empress Of Ashes
The Empress Of Ashes Chapter 6

Episode 6: Another Name for Love

As soon as they returned to the annex, Aristide claimed she was tired and disappeared into her bedroom. Loras, on the other hand, couldn’t stop crying even after stepping out of the carriage. He sobbed, calling out, “Mom… Mom…”

“Shh—our little prince, now it’s time to stop crying, okay? Brave princes don’t cry. What if Julianna sees and teases you?”

“W-where is Julianna, really?”

Loras, still sniffling as he entered the annex, suddenly perked up and began looking for Julianna. Julianna was the eldest daughter of Viscount Guillere, whom Loras had married at the age of twenty. As befitting a noblewoman, she was prim and pretty, four years younger than Loras. After the marriage, her father, Viscount Guillere, was granted a small estate—a man with no real connections at court, all ambition and greed.

Still, such a person seemed acceptable. Considering Loras current state, it was enough for him not to be lonely. Producing heirs wasn’t necessary. A seven-year age difference made it impossible for Loras to view her as a proper partner, so it wouldn’t matter if Julianna found a lover and pursued her own happiness. Truthfully, even now, it seemed that was the case. Her decision to remain in the main palace and return slowly spoke volumes—it was clear she harbored feelings for the second prince. There was an innocent love in the way she looked at him.

“She’ll come later, later,” Afrosa assured him.

“But… I want to see Julianna…”

Afrosa gently stroked Loras tousled hair as she led him to his bedroom. Once inside, Loras tears quickly stopped, and he began to chatter about Julianna—how beautiful, kind, and sweet she was.

“I miss Julianna.”

“You’ll see her tomorrow morning.”

“Hmm… but I want to see her now. Oh, right! Mom, Julianna said her favorite dance is the Polonaise.”

“Did she?”

Afrosa concealed her exhaustion and listened to her son’s chatter. She understood how dull life in the annex must be for Julianna. She must have arrived full of anticipation, dreaming of a grand life at the palace after marrying into the royal family, only to find herself stuck in a shabby annex far from the emperor’s residence. And her new husband was… incomplete.

How bitter and humiliating it must have been. Afrosa understood Julianna. She understood so well that she couldn’t even resent her for openly dismissing Loras. After all, who could endure Loras? Only she, his mother, could love and embrace him unconditionally. The same applied to Alec. That’s why she chose to retreat to the annex. She had no regrets—not about that decision, at least.

“Yawn—”

“You’re tired, aren’t you?”

After removing Loras formal attire herself rather than relying on the servants, Afrosa dressed him in his pajamas. As she gently combed his hair with her fingers, she asked, “Are you tired?” Loras, seemingly worn out from all his chatter, simply nodded. Afrosa called a maid to prepare water for him to wash.

“Come here.”

A servant brought a basin of water, and Afrosa softly washed her son’s face before rinsing his hands and feet. Although Loras was capable of washing himself, tonight, Afrosa felt the urge to care for him personally.

“Go to sleep now, my little one. Tomorrow will be full of exciting things.”

“Okay. You too, Mom.”

Loras flashed a smile, his way of addressing her having shifted from “Mother” to the more intimate “Mom.” When they were alone, he called her “Mom,” and it made her eyes sting with emotion.

“Close your eyes now,” she whispered quickly, her voice tight with emotion. Loras obediently closed his eyes, and before long, his breathing slowed as he drifted into sleep. Listening to the soft sounds of his slumber, Afrosa pressed a kiss to his forehead and quietly left the room.

She walked to her own desolate bedroom, weighed down by the heavy jewelry she had worn for her husband’s birthday. The ornate pieces felt out of place on her. Crossing the dark room, she approached her dressing table. Just as she lit the wick of a candle, a gasp escaped her lips.

“Ah!”

Someone was reflected in the mirror—a tall figure. Startled, Afrosa shrank back, her shoulders tensing. The man stood silently, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. She turned to face him, staring wordlessly before murmuring faintly,

“…Your Majesty.”


Her husband looked at her with wary eyes. The way she had hesitated, whispering “Your Majesty,” betrayed her unease. On her pale face was an expression of quiet detachment. Since his departure, her features reflected nothing, like a blank slate. She was serene, cold, his wife, his lover…

“The boy?”

Breaking the oppressive silence, he asked about their son. Afrosa didn’t respond, simply looking at him. He took small solace in that—at least he was permitted her gaze. Touching her, however, was another matter entirely; she wouldn’t even stand near him. Wrapping his arm around her earlier must have been, to her, the most intolerable accident in recent memory.

“What brings you here?”

After a long silence, she finally spoke, her gaze falling away from his as though discarding it. The way she shifted her eyes felt like a blow to his chest.

“The banquet seems to be in full swing….”

“Come back.”

The emperor’s birthday celebration usually lasted until dawn, with nobles exchanging sly glances and lingering touches in the flickering candlelight. He couldn’t care less about such tedious displays. From the gaudy queens who flaunted their entitlement to the bold young women clinging to him in hopes of advancement, he loathed it all.

He had endured much in his life, from severing his brothers’ heads to leading the slaughter of hundreds of thousands. Most of his so-called accomplishments involved bloodshed. What once seemed like a mission now felt hollow when he reflected on it.

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Rose.”

“Go back.”

“Rose.”

“Stop….”

“Everything I did, I did for you.”

Afrosa swallowed dryly, her face twitching as she tried to suppress her emotions. She worked hard not to let his words anger or sadden her—there was no point. What they had was long gone, their history so faded it was barely a memory. She was no longer young or beautiful, and he no longer needed her.

She thought of the countless young, lovely girls in his court, always waiting to be noticed. Kings and emperors could always have their pick of the freshest beauties, and his power, eternal in this life, ensured that he could live out his days surrounded by them.

“Do you hate me? Am I so repulsive that you turn me away every day…!”

“Go back.”

“Rose.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Please.”

“I did it for you. For our children.”

She was tired of it. Yet she didn’t shout. Even though she wanted to scream that his efforts had destroyed everything, she held it in.

“I know.”

She replied flatly. Alec glared at her. While he was slowly being consumed by anger and despair, Afrosa remained endlessly calm. Was it a mask of calm? Or was it that she truly felt no trace of emotion? He couldn’t tell. Alec kept his gaze fixed on his wife.

She was the one woman he had never stopped loving, not for a single moment. When she had declared her intent to leave the palace, to leave him, to end things between them… Since then, love had become another name for loneliness to him. In the dark, silent halls of the palace, devoid of light or hope, he had waited for her, slowly withering away.

He needed nothing else. She could ignore him if she wanted. As long as Afrosa stayed by his side. Even if she hated him endlessly, even if she dug a bottomless pit of contempt into his heart—he could bear it. He already understood her. And yet…

“I know,” she said.

Afrosa, who had been averting her gaze, now lifted her head to look at him. Her indifferent eyes were like thorns forged from iron. Her expression wasn’t one of devastation, nor was it what he hoped for. She had no expectations, leaving her face marked only by emptiness. A look of complete resignation, as if there was nothing left within her. A rigid, icy wall. The cruel face of someone who had pushed him over the edge of a cliff and watched him fall.

It was impossible for his blood not to boil. Impossible not to resent her.

“…If I could, I would leave the palace this very moment.”

After a long silence, she finally spoke. Her words were devastating beyond measure.

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