In this empire, no one could outmatch Bee. Even the Emperor was firmly under her sway, so what chance did anyone else have?
“Your Majesty,” Madame Miela greeted, bowing.
“Welcome, Miela,” Bee replied warmly.
As if she’d been waiting for this moment, Madame Miela appeared shortly after, trailed by palace staff carrying stacks of vibrant fabrics.
At the sight of the piled textiles, Sasha and Lant’s faces darkened instantly.
“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting,” Bee said.
“Oh, no trouble at all! The wait gave me time to dream up designs perfect for Her Highness,” Madame Miela replied, waving off the apology with a carefree smile.
Sasha’s moonlit platinum hair and charming resemblance to Bee sparked Miela’s creative fervor. Dressing the princess was worth any wait.
“Good. I entrust Her Highness’s attire entirely to you,” Bee said.
“I’m honored, Your Majesty,” Miela replied, beaming and bowing deeply.
Being entrusted with Sasha’s wardrobe meant complete control over her appearance, from head to toe. As Miela reveled in the thought of styling Sasha to her taste, Bee brought her back to reality.
“I know you’re busy, but could you also manage a gentleman’s formal attire before the festival?”
“Gentleman’s attire?” Miela asked, confused.
Bee’s gaze shifted to Lant, who held Sasha. Miela’s eyes widened, finally noticing him.
“Young Lord Elient!”
“It’s been a while, Madame Miela,” Lant greeted.
“Oh my, I heard you’d returned! And what a dashing man you’ve become!”
Though clothed, Lant’s toned physique was evident to Miela’s designer eye. Her gleaming stare sent a chill down his spine.
“You mean attire for Young Lord Elient?” she clarified.
“Yes, is it possible?” Bee asked.
“Absolutely! Possible, of course!” Miela answered eagerly, adding, “Even if it weren’t, I’d make it so. Leave it to me, Your Majesty.”
While Miela’s face lit up with delight, Sasha and Lant’s expressions crumpled in despair.
Click, clack.
The sound of heels on marble echoed through the silent corridor. Bee, having dismissed her attendants, walked alone toward Erharak Hall.
She’d passed this way countless times, but it was the first time since that day she’d walked this corridor alone.
Unlike that night, when cold silence and dim moonlight barely lit the path, the corridor now glowed brightly, alive with preparations for tomorrow’s founding festival.
“Your Majesty,” the knights guarding Erharak Hall greeted, kneeling as they spotted her. Their eyes held deep respect and awe.
Since absorbing the Canaan Kingdom, the empire had flourished under Sys’s reign. He’d fostered culture and commerce while prioritizing education for commoners.
Naturally, nobles resisted, fearing educated commoners might threaten their status. But Sys, insisting that a prosperous people strengthened the empire, pushed back fiercely.
Though his policies were ambitious, they strengthened imperial authority, and Bee’s subtle maneuvering helped them take root.
By fragmenting the aristocracy’s hold on high society, Bee shifted power toward military officials, opening paths for knights to rise.
Everyone in the empire knew the Empress stood behind Sys’s reforms. Commoners and knights alike revered her.
“Open the door,” Bee commanded.
“Your Majesty?”
The knights, caught off guard, exchanged uneasy glances.
During major events, it couldn’t be helped, but Sys forbade Bee from even nearing Erharak Hall, reacting with near-hysteria. Even Sasha, free to roam the palace, avoided this area—Sys’s rare sternness ensured it.
Though Sasha, with her platinum hair instead of Bee’s golden-brown, wasn’t the key to the Inayari barrier, Sys remained cautious. He’d confirmed this with Kassan and Rai multiple times, yet his unease persisted.
To prevent any risk, he stationed knights at the hall’s entrance and along the corridor. By now, word of Bee’s approach would’ve reached him.
“Open it,” she repeated firmly.
The hesitant knights complied. Though Sys had ordered the door never to be opened for anyone, the Empress held equal authority. Without the Emperor present, none could defy her.
The massive door opened silently. Glancing at a knight rushing to report to Sys, Bee stepped inside.
The hall, bathed in bright light for tomorrow’s event, was a far cry from the bleak scene of that day.
Her steps carried her toward the center, then stopped abruptly.
“Regret, and regret again, and think only of me for the rest of your life, my Emperor.”
Here, Bee had cursed Sys and the world before taking her own life. Today was the anniversary of that choice.
Bijonne had died here.
“Bee!”
Sys’s voice, strained and pale, called out. His hair was disheveled from running.
“Sys…”
“What are you doing?!”
He grabbed her shoulders, yanking her close. Bee nearly bit her tongue from the force.
“Don’t you know what this place is?”
He was furious. The moment he heard that Bee was heading to Erharak Hall, his mind went blank.
Knowing his fears, Bee was usually cautious, never entering the hall without him. Her sudden move left him reeling.
Racing from his office, he’d imagined every worst-case scenario—Inayari traps, coercion. The short distance felt like a thousand miles.
“Damn it, if you want to stop my heart, just stab me with a sword. It’d hurt less,” he said, pulling her into a tight embrace.
His racing heartbeat pulsed against her, palpable even to Bee. She gently stroked his back.
On that day, she’d ended her life here. Immersed in her happy life, she’d nearly forgotten. Amid the festival chaos, the memory struck like a bell, urging her here.
Though she knew Sys would come running, she couldn’t stop her feet. The memory, long buried, overwhelmed her today.
“I just came to check the festival preparations,” she lied smoothly.
“Check one more time, and I won’t survive it,” Sys grumbled, burying his face in her neck, inhaling her scent.
She’s alive.
He repeated it to himself, his racing heart calming with her fragrance.
“You never let me rest easy,” he said, tightening his hold.
Though it was almost painful, Bee didn’t push him away, wrapping her arms around his waist.
She felt his constant vigilance for her safety—not her fault, but she was sorry for it.
After Duke Daysha’s death, Inayari attacks had quieted, but they’d recently resumed. No infiltrators had reached the palace, but the Western borders suffered from their raids.
Sys, with Marquis Retan, formed an Inayari Task Force to hunt them. Publicly, it was to protect citizens, but in truth, it was to eliminate threats to Bee.
The task force accepted anyone with skill, noble or commoner, judged solely on ability. For commoners, knighthood was a rare opportunity, and the task force, under Sys’s direct command, offered better treatment than noble houses’ knights.
It also held Sys’s trust and attention, ensuring a clear path to success. Not just commoners but low-ranking nobles and highborn bastards showed keen interest.
“Where’s Viscount Louis?” Sys asked.
Evan, always at Bee’s side, was absent. Had he been present, Bee wouldn’t have entered the hall.
As Sys mentally berated Evan for neglecting his duty, Bee answered, “He’s with Sasha.”
“With Sasha? Isn’t it past her bedtime?”
Sys frowned. Busy with festival preparations, he’d only seen his daughter asleep for days.
“She was fussy tonight, so I asked Evan to handle her.”
