Episode 7: A Moment to Turn Back

She had ultimately turned her back on him and walked away. He had been left alone, enduring everything. For his family’s sake, he had lived like a beast. If there were humans born to imitate animals, he was one of them.

“I don’t need to live as the Empress. I could be content in a more modest home than this. I want to leave before Aristide’s wedding.”

Her eyes were devoid of emotion. Alec’s face twisted in pain. For a long time, his only goal had been to protect his wife and son. He had used every means necessary, even dehumanizing himself in the process. To protect her, he became the Imperial stud, siring unwanted children. Did she understand how repulsive that was? Could she comprehend the nausea of swallowing aphrodisiacs and pulling down his trousers in front of those vile women? Did she realize how revolting it was to be called “Your Majesty” while performing such acts? And now, after all that…

“It’s me.”

His unrestrained breath escaped in a harsh, ragged gasp. His eyes, brimming with unshed tears, turned red and stung like fire. Clenching his trembling jaw, he raised his gaze to hers.

“Do you think I was okay with this?”

She said nothing. As if there was nothing left for her to say. He felt like he was losing his mind. Like he wanted to die. Countless times, as he felt the emptiness of her absence, as he revoltingly spread the legs of other women… He had mutilated himself until his flesh bled raw.

“Do you think I was okay with this!”

He grabbed her shoulders with both hands, gripping them tightly as if they might shatter. Her delicate shoulders swayed helplessly under his rough hold. He wanted to crush her completely, to devour her until not a single strand of hair remained. To kill her and preserve her forever. To take her breath away so she could never escape, never flee….

“I love you, Alec.”

But what he wanted was her smile. The moment he wanted to turn back to was the time they had been in love. The time when her love had been his. A time when there had only been her—just Afrosa. With her, he thought he could endure anything.

“Do you think this is okay because it’s me? Afrosa, Rose, please. Don’t do this. Don’t you dare do this to me. Don’t leave me too…! You can’t do this to me.”

His voice, soaked in resentment, trembled with desperation.

He had killed his brothers, desecrated his sister’s grave, slaughtered tens of thousands. He had burned cities to ash and poisoned rivers to isolate them. How many had he starved with his own hands? Severed heads piled high, damming rivers. Killing had become as natural as breathing. He had cut down everything opposed to him, crushing it underfoot with ease.

“Ah, Your Majesty…”

Her voice trembled weakly, breaking the suffocating silence.

His grip on her shoulders was so tight it ached, and Afrosa let out a small groan of pain. Alec’s gaze lingered on her pale, slender neck. The delicate curve of her chest and the sharp lines of her collarbone ignited a spark of lust within him. Blood surged downward, his body betraying him as he reacted. The man who had been glaring at her with trembling intensity lowered his head and claimed her lips without warning.

“Ah…!”

Caught off guard by the sudden kiss, Afrosa gasped and pushed against his chest. His rough hand clamped down on her struggling arms, holding her still. With her eyes tightly shut, she could only feel his lips pressing against hers, clinging persistently.

“Mm…!”

The sensation of his lips rubbing against hers was revolting. Yet, perhaps spurred on by her muffled protests, his kiss grew even more invasive, damp and suffocating. Afrosa, who had been pushing against his chest, balled her hands into fists and began to strike him weakly. But Alec didn’t budge. Instead, his tongue pressed forward, attempting to part her lips.

It was disgusting. That this man still desired her—still viewed her as a woman—was beyond comprehension. What was he even looking at to rouse himself? She couldn’t understand it, especially with the firm bulge pressing against her abdomen. To Afrosa, Alec was no longer a man. Regardless of age, at some point, he had ceased to be her husband, ceased to be a man in her eyes.

That change had happened long ago. Even the night they conceived Aristide had felt the same. When had they last shared a bed as husband and wife? She couldn’t recall. Was that night the last? Perhaps. She didn’t know, nor did she care to remember.

Sharing a bed with him had long since lost all meaning for her. In Laurent, the act had once been joyful and exhilarating. But somewhere along the way, it had turned into a chore. Perhaps noticing her shift in feelings, Alec had stopped seeking her out. And so, for a long time, they ceased to face each other as husband and wife.

After all, he had more than enough other wives to keep him occupied. She felt no guilt about failing to fulfill her duties as a wife or satisfy his needs. Those burdens simply didn’t exist for Afrosa anymore. Over time, even the thought of touching him had grown repulsive.

“Ugh, stop!”

When his tongue finally grazed hers, nausea welled up within her. The realization that her body could still function as a woman made her want to vomit. Summoning her last shred of defiance, Afrosa bit down hard on the invading tongue. Alec didn’t even groan in pain, though blood began to seep from the corner of his mouth as he pulled away.

Afrosa raised her hand and struck him across the face. The slap rang out sharply, his head snapping to the side. But instead of reacting with anger, the man merely curled his lips into a faint, twisted smile.

“Haa… Haa…”

Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes, trailing down her cheeks. Afrosa bent forward, catching her breath before lifting her head. Alec laughed like a madman, his lips curling into a twisted smile as his steel-gray eyes, glistening like they were wet with tears, gleamed with fury. His face bore the scars of pain, and Afrosa quickly averted her gaze. She didn’t want to look at him. She never wanted to see him again. She wished she could disappear entirely, taking only Loras and Aristide to a place where Alec could never find them.

“…I’ll send word to Lady Lupen in the garden,” she murmured.

It was as though she could hear the sound of his teeth grinding. With an impassive expression, Afrosa thought of Lady Lupen, the head maid who managed the imperial harem. The garden was a place where young maidens bathed their thighs in warm water and massaged their breasts with rose-scented oils, preparing themselves for a single night with the emperor. If she sent the word tonight, they’d ensure a woman was ready for him immediately. Whether it was for one night or one hour, they’d desperately strive to bear the emperor’s seed. Soon, another concubine might shed tears of joy, announcing the presence of a new imperial child in her womb.

“So… please, stop this now…”

“…I’ve already ordered the belongings from the detached palace to be moved back to the main palace.”

Startled, Afrosa raised her head to look at him. Alec’s damp, steel-gray eyes now looked dry, more brittle than she had ever seen them. She bit her lips, glaring at him.

“I’ll be waiting,” he said as he turned and walked away.

Afrosa clenched her fists, her entire body trembling.

---

His breathing was ragged. He hadn’t climbed a single flight of stairs, yet heat roiled through him, leaving everything in disarray. Returning to the palace, Alec stormed into his study. Piles of documents awaiting review by morning or requiring his attention tomorrow were stacked high on his desk. Scowling, he swept them all off in a single motion.

“Your Majesty.”

The captain of the guard addressed him cautiously, concern evident in his voice. Alec’s shoulders heaved as he trembled with rage. What was the point of all this? The endless work, the burdens of a life he never wanted—why did he persist?

The crown he had never desired. The weight he hadn’t chosen to bear. Even as he consumed aphrodisiacs and used his body to satiate the ambitions of two relentless women who only sought power, he had never once stopped thinking about her. He endured humiliation and degradation, but never—not for a single moment—had he forgotten her.

‘Afrosa… How could you? How could you do this to me? To me…?’

His teeth chattered uncontrollably. He slammed his fist down onto the desk repeatedly. Blood soon began to drip from his knuckles as the captain of the guard furrowed his brow.

“Your Majesty, please restrain yourself,” the captain murmured softly.

Alec did not listen. The sound of his self-inflicted violence drowned out the captain’s futile plea. The man made no further attempt to stop him, nor did he summon anyone to intervene. The emperor’s self-harm was all too familiar. His clothes concealed countless scars from such acts. No one in the palace could stop him.

No one, except his wife.

“Captain!”

Panting heavily, someone called out to him. Alec turned at the familiar voice—it was the young page who served him.

“Your Majesty’s quarters…”

“It’s an emergency!”

The man, who had been about to admonish the page for causing a commotion, froze. The boy was pale as a sheet, trembling uncontrollably.

“What is it?”

“The detached palace’s… the conservatory…”

“What happened in the conservatory?”

“There’s… there’s a fire. A fire has broken out! Hic… Hic…”

“What about the palace fire brigade?”

“They’ve all gone there. But… but, Your Majesty… it’s worse than that…”

Worse than a fire? Elec frowned, but the page hesitated, trembling even more violently.

“Speak quickly!”

“The Crown Prince is trapped inside the conservatory, and… and the Empress went in to save him…”

Tears spilled from the boy’s eyes. Though young, he had been serving as a page in the imperial court for over five years. He understood the weight of his words. He knew what the Crown Prince meant to the Emperor. He knew what the Empress and the children born of her womb represented.

The woman who had bound herself to the Emperor with the name “wife”… her son…

Tonight, the Emperor’s world would not remain intact.