A soft sigh accompanied Father’s warm touch as he wiped the tears from my cheeks.
“You’ll ruin your pretty face.”
His low voice was filled with affection. Tears welled up again. Through my blurred vision, I saw his troubled expression.
“Bijonne, don’t cry.”
I nodded, but the tears wouldn’t stop. With no other choice, Father stretched out his arms and pulled me into his embrace.
The front of his deep blue uniform became stained with tears and makeup, but he didn’t care; he focused only on soothing me.
I steadied my heart, taking slow, deep breaths until the tears finally ceased. The maids, who had been anxiously waiting, rushed forward to quickly touch up my makeup.
Though my eyes were slightly red, my face was restored to its pristine state. Father reached out to me again.
I grasped his outstretched hand firmly, and his hand enveloped mine with equal strength in response.
Escorted by Father, I headed toward Erharak Hall. As we passed through the corridor, palace attendants bowed respectfully upon seeing us.
I’d walked this path holding Father’s hand before.
Back then, my mind was consumed with standing by his side, blind to everything else.
I’d believed that crossing this corridor would lead to nothing but happiness. I never imagined I’d walk it alone, choosing death.
And now?
I stopped, gazing at the heavy doors of Erharak Hall blocking my path.
The imposing doors seemed to demand an answer, as if their opening hinged on my response.
“Bijonne?”
Father called cautiously, concern flickering across his stoic face. The subtle shift was imperceptible to others, but to me, his care was vivid.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, filling my lungs.
It’ll be alright.
Unlike then, I now knew that beyond these doors, happiness wasn’t guaranteed.
Life would bring trials, pain, and sorrow. But I wouldn’t make the same foolish choice as the old Bijonne.
My hand, enveloped in Father’s large, warm grip, filled my vision. Despite his cool demeanor, his hand radiated warmth. As long as I had this, I’d never curse the world or wail in despair again.
I smiled softly at Father. He returned an awkward smile.
Beyond his shoulder, my knights awaited my command. I nodded, and they promptly pulled the door handles with force.
The heavy doors opened silently, and a flood of radiant light engulfed me.
Across a pristine silk path, the empire’s nobles watched me.
In an ordinary wedding, I’d have walked this path with Father. But at the end of this Silk Road, Sys awaited, along with the empire’s highest throne.
This was as far as Father could go.
Just before his hand left mine, he squeezed it tightly. I looked up to see him smiling warmly—a smile anyone could recognize.
Our hands parted, and Father stepped back. I turned my gaze forward, standing tall.
At the end of the silk path, Sys, crowned as Emperor, waited for me. I stepped onto the white silk, meeting his eyes.
The nobles, watching in silence, bowed in unison. It was the highest courtesy offered to the Emperor or Empress, yet no words broke the heavy quiet.
I moved slowly, the rustle of my dress and the chime of jewels the only sounds in the hall.
Reaching the end of the path, Sys extended his hand. It was as white as the silk, calloused and strong.
He gave me a radiant smile. I returned it, placing my hand in his.
His grip was firm, a reassuring strength different from Father’s yet equally steady.
The bell announcing the imperial wedding rang loudly, and the solemn, lengthy ceremony began. The ornate regalia, adhering to imperial protocol, grew heavy over time, pressing down on me.
Sys, sensing my strain, supported my back with his steady arm. He must have been as exhausted as I was, but he showed no sign of it, only smiling at me.
With this man, I’ll be secure for life.
The thought struck me powerfully as I saw his smile. It was a new feeling, but not unwelcome.
He’d support me like this forever—his embrace, his warmth, his strength, all for me.
“…Do you swear to embrace and love all the subjects of the empire as the Mother of the Empire?”
The ceremony’s final moment arrived. The officiating priest presented an ornate crown.
The Empress’s crown.
Paired with the Emperor’s, it gleamed brilliantly under the light.
I’d faced this same question before. Back then, I didn’t grasp the crown’s weight. Enchanted by its splendor, I’d sworn the oath lightly, unaware of its burden.
That unbearable weight had crushed me, driving me to ruin.
As I gazed at the crown, Sys’s arm tightened around me, his anxiety palpable, fearing I might refuse.
I had no intention of rejecting the crown’s weight now. I’d merely been lost in old memories. If I couldn’t bear it, I wouldn’t be standing here.
With the man I loved, I could carry it.
“Yes, I swear.”
I spoke before Sys’s lips could move. Relief flooded his eyes.
I knelt before the priest as he raised the crown. Its heavy weight settled on my head. Feeling secure, I slowly rose.
The priest bowed deeply.
“I greet the new Moon of the Empire.”
I turned, facing the nobles filling Erharak Hall.
“We greet the new Moon of the Empire.”
Their resounding voices echoed through the hall as they bowed again. The oppressive silence was gone, replaced by fervent excitement.
Sys, now beside me, gently held my shoulders. His lips curved with satisfaction. Leaning down, he whispered in my ear, his husky voice laced with heat.
“Finally, you’re mine, my Bee.”
His soft lips brushed my earlobe, sending a flush of warmth through me.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment, my Moon.”
Today, I became Empress again.
A soft, warm sensation enveloped me, stirring me awake.
Opening my eyes, I saw Sys’s face, breathing evenly in sleep. Afraid to wake him, I traced his features with my eyes instead of my fingers—his smooth forehead, long lashes casting shadows, sharp nose, and slightly parted red lips.
Those lips had explored my body last night, leaving countless petal-like marks.
Recalling the night filled with ecstasy and joy, my face flushed. I wasn’t ignorant of intimacy, but last night was different.
The connection with someone I loved was extraordinary. Giving myself fully and receiving him in return filled me with a completeness I’d never known.
Did he feel the same?
I wondered if he shared my feelings.
Part of me wanted to let him sleep, while another urged me to wake him and ask. As if sensing my thoughts, his lashes fluttered.
“Like my face?”
His lashes lifted, revealing playful golden eyes.
Startled, I tried to pull back, but he swiftly grabbed my waist, pulling me into his chest.
“Go ahead, admire it.”
He tilted his face toward me, closing his eyes. Annoyed by his nonchalance while my heart raced, I swatted his arm.
“When did you wake up?”
“Before you.”
His eyes curved softly.
“I was watching your face all night.”
His lips neared mine.
“I couldn’t sleep, afraid this might be a dream.”
His long fingers wove through my hair, tilting my head as his soft lips parted mine.
Feeling him fully, I wrapped my arms around his neck. He rolled, pulling me atop him.
“Seeing your face from above is nice, but looking up like this is a thrill too.”
His eyes, now burning with desire, gazed up at me.
His hands roamed my body with familiar ease, a skill I hadn’t noticed last night.
“What do you think? Doing it while looking down at my face… Bee?”
I grazed his neck with my nails, a subtle threat. He froze, meeting my sharp gaze.
“You seem very skilled at handling women.”
His wide eyes softened as he caught my meaning, his lips curling into a grin.
