IWAPUF 26

“Oh, there wasn’t any particular reason,” the First Imperial Consort said with a dismissive wave of
her fan. “Her Majesty often feels quite lonely, you see, with no one her age in the palace. It would
be wonderful if you could visit her more frequently. Wouldn’t it, Your Majesty?”
“Yes, that’s right,” the Empress murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
I barely suppressed a scoff. The notion that the Empress had no peers in the palace was patently
absurd. The inner court was filled with concubines and princesses; it was impossible for her to
lack companions her age. Furthermore, the First Imperial Consort’s tone was unmistakably
condescending toward the Empress. Anyone observing them would struggle to believe this was a
conversation between the Empress and the First Imperial Consort. The First Imperial Consort was
acting as though she were the Empress Dowager herself.
“I have not been as attentive as I should have been,” I said, my voice laced with formality. “Please
accept my apologies, Your Majesty.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine, my lady,” the Empress stammered, clearly flustered. She forced an awkward
smile before continuing, “I have heard the news about Count Pison.”
“I am honored by your concern, Your Majesty,” I replied, bowing my head slightly.
“Speaking of which,” the First Imperial Consort interjected, cutting into the conversation between
the Empress and me, “I heard there was quite a commotion about that matter.” Through the
delicate folds of her fan, I could see her red lips curving upward in a sly smile.
“Rumors have reached me that you cast out your own kin,” she added, her voice dripping with
feigned concern.
The First Imperial Consort was the same as ever. Even back then, she would smile sweetly while
twisting the knife. I, with my short temper and poor judgment, had fallen for her tricks time and
again. She was a woman like a serpent—her beauty concealing deadly poison.
As the eldest daughter of a count’s family, she had voluntarily entered the Emperor’s harem. By
giving birth to the Emperor’s first son, the First Prince, she not only secured her position as the
First Imperial Consort but also elevated her natal family, the Moiton Count house, to a marquisate.
Before the Crown Prince was born, the First Prince had been treated as the presumptive heir, and
the First Imperial Consort wielded power nearly equal to that of an empress. Their dominance
shattered the moment the Crown Prince came into the world. To the First Imperial Consort and the
First Prince, the Crown Prince must have been an unbearable thorn in their side. Naturally, in her
eyes, I—Beonne Rossa Eliont, the fiancée of the Crown Prince—would be just as detestable.
“It seems Your Highness is quite interested in my family affairs,” I remarked, keeping my tone
polite but pointed.
“Since we may become family, isn’t it only natural?” she replied smoothly.
Though I was not thrilled about it, as the Crown Prince’s fiancée, barring any major upheaval, I
would become the Crown Princess and a member of the imperial family. The only significant
events that could prevent this were my death, the Crown Prince’s death, or the Eliont family
committing treason and being annihilated. Unless something catastrophic happened that turned the
entire nation upside down, nothing could stop my marriage to the Crown Prince. Yet, in the face of
this unshakeable fact, the First Imperial Consort had said we *may* become family, implying that
it might not happen.
Truth be told, I did not wish to marry the Crown Prince. If I could, I would break off the
engagement. However, to do so would require both the Eliont family and the imperial family to
endure significant losses. The Emperor and the Crown Prince would never accept such a cost. The
First Imperial Consort knew this better than anyone.
Her words could be interpreted in many ways. Beneath her layered remarks lay a warning: she
would do everything in her power to prevent me from becoming the Crown Princess.
An invisible battle of nerves began between the First Imperial Consort and me. The Empress,
caught in the middle, looked pale and at a loss. I ignored her and focused on the Consort.
“Indeed,” I said, my voice steady. “Since we will soon be family, it’s only natural to take an
interest in each other.”
Regardless of my reluctance to marry the Crown Prince, I had no desire to be intimidated by the
First Imperial Consort. Back then, I had detested her. She was wary of my background but
dismissive of me as a person. When I first entered the palace as the Crown Princess, I clashed with
her frequently. In hindsight, she was probably testing me, trying to gauge what kind of person I
was.
Back then, I was vain and self-absorbed. Aside from chasing after the Crown Prince, I did nothing
of substance. Perhaps deciding I was no threat, the First Imperial Consort soon began to ignore me.
I still vividly remember the expression she wore when looking at me—a sneer, as if she were
gazing upon a pathetic creature.
I lifted my teacup. The pale green liquid rippled gently. Bringing it to my lips, I took a sip, and the
aroma of tea filled my mouth. It had cooled slightly but was still at a pleasant temperature. Slowly
setting down the teacup, I looked at the First Imperial Consort as if a thought had just occurred to
me.
“By the way,” I said casually, “I believe the First Prince’s consort has yet to bear a child, has she
not?”
The First Imperial Consort’s fan, which had been fluttering gracefully, came to a sudden stop. I
smiled at her with an expression of innocent curiosity.
“Since we will soon be family, I can’t help but worry,” I continued. “I heard that it has been well
over ten years since their marriage. Isn’t that right, Your Majesty?”
“……Yes? Well…… I mean……” the Empress stammered, cold sweat beading on her forehead.
She fidgeted, constantly glancing at the First Imperial Consort.
The First Prince had one wife and three concubines. Despite marrying at a young age, the First
Prince, now in his mid-thirties, still had not a single child. This was a fatal weakness for both the
First Prince and the First Imperial Consort. Even if the First Prince were to become Emperor,
without an heir, his line would end.
The hand holding the fan trembled ever so slightly, a movement so subtle it was barely noticeable.
Yet, despite the faint tremor in her hand, the First Imperial Consort’s face remained impassive—a
testament to her years of experience in the palace. Her fan began to flutter once more, and she
gave me a perfectly composed smile.
“I appreciate your concern,” she said, her voice smooth as silk. “I had no idea your kindness
extended so far.”
Though her lips curved into a smile, her eyes were as cold as ice.
“You flatter me, Your Highness,” I replied, meeting her gaze with a bright smile.
A silence colder than ice settled between the First Imperial Consort and me. The Empress, trapped
between us, turned from pale to ashen.
“It’s truly puzzling how such bizarre rumors could circulate about someone as kind-hearted as
you,” the First Imperial Consort mused, her tone laced with false sympathy.
Then and now, rumors had always followed me. I had long since stopped paying attention to them.
After all, they were never favorable, and knowing about them served no purpose. Moreover, with
Nanny no longer by my side, there was no one meddlesome enough to relay such gossip to me.
Even without hearing the specifics, I could guess what the rumors were about. As always, they
likely concerned my birth, and the recent incident where I expelled my relatives from the Pison
family probably added fuel to the fire. I waited calmly for the First Imperial Consort to continue.
“The rumors are so outlandish that the Empress and I were just expressing our concern for you,”
she said, glancing at the Empress. “Isn’t that right, Your Majesty?”
“Yes? Yes, that’s right,” the Empress answered hastily, startled. She glanced at me as if to gauge
my reaction.
She truly wasn’t cut out to be Empress. Not only had she been married off at a young age to a man
older than her father, but she also had to contend with concubines more formidable than any
mother-in-law. And now, she even had to mind me, her future daughter-in-law. Back then, I had
looked down on her for her lowly birth. It seemed her situation hadn’t changed much since.
“Indeed, the rumors were quite bizarre and disgraceful,” the First Imperial Consort added,
fluttering her fan with an air of concern.
It seemed she was waiting for me to ask what the rumors were. I obliged, playing along with her
intentions.
“I am curious to know what these rumors are,” I said, my voice steady.
“They say you were embracing a man on the main street,” she replied, her eyes gleaming. “For
someone soon to be the Crown Princess, such disgraceful rumors are concerning. I worry about
how others will perceive you.”
It must have been referring to the day I met Evan Li. Many people had seen us that day. Though
not even our clothes brushed against each other, rumors tended to exaggerate. This was relatively
mild, all things considered.
“I was wondering what the fuss was about,” Beonne Rossa Eliont said, her tone light but edged
with a faint sarcasm that betrayed her weariness.
“This is not something to be brushed off so easily,” the First Imperial Consort countered sharply.
“What if it reaches the ears of the Crown Prince or His Majesty? What then? Isn’t that right, Your
Majesty?”
“Y-yes, that’s correct,” the Empress replied, her voice steadier now than her earlier stumbles,
flowing with an almost rehearsed smoothness, as if reading from a textbook. “What if His Majesty
takes offense over this? You must be more careful, my lady.”
Unlike her earlier hesitation, the Empress’s words came effortlessly this time. It was obvious that
she and the First Imperial Consort had coordinated their approach before Beonne’s arrival. A
rumor, once uttered by the First Imperial Consort and echoed by the Empress, hardened into
undeniable fact. It was a ridiculous notion, yet rumors were a cunning tool—costing nothing to
wield for the one who spread them, while capable of dealing devastating blows to their target. The
First Imperial Consort was a master at this game. In the past, Beonne had fallen prey to her
schemes time and again. Her reputation had been shredded, and she’d been at a loss for how to
mend it.
The same danger loomed now. A single misstep in her response, and Beonne would be branded an
immoral woman, accused of embracing men on the main street. In the worst case, her alleged
indecency could unravel her engagement to the Crown Prince. That, Beonne suspected, was
precisely why the First Imperial Consort had summoned her here.
*What should I do…?* she wondered, caught in a fleeting moment of indecision. Rumors held
little weight for her anymore. If she were labeled immoral and the engagement dissolved, future
marriage prospects might dim, but the prospect of escaping her betrothal to the Crown Prince was
undeniably tempting. For a moment, she pictured letting the First Imperial Consort’s plan unfold.
Staying with the Eliont family would likely become impossible. Lant, already burdened by his
illegitimate birth and the obstacles it posed to inheriting the marquess title, would suffer further if
she remained, her scandal dragging the family down. Returning to the Count Pison estate was
equally unfeasible. She had already ceded her inheritance rights to Elriel—returning now would
only weigh him down.
That left the merchant guild. With its global network, it offered more than enough places for her to
vanish and begin anew.
The thought was tantalizing, a seductive whisper of freedom. But as her gaze settled on the First
Imperial Consort’s smug, triumphant expression, the temptation evaporated. Just as in the past,
Beonne found her intolerable. Some people were simply loathsome for no reason at all, and the
First Imperial Consort was one of them.
Though Beonne longed to break off her engagement to the Crown Prince, she had no intention of
doing so at the cost of unnecessary damage. Lately, the Crown Prince had been exhausting, but
once *she* arrived, everything would sort itself out. Beonne could simply hand him over and walk
away—no need to incur losses in the process. More importantly, if she let the First Imperial
Consort’s scheme succeed, every ounce of Beonne’s suffering would become her rival’s gain. She
refused to let that happen.
“Speaking of scandals,” Beonne said casually, “Your Highness has been entangled in one yourself,
hasn’t she?”
For the first time, the First Imperial Consort’s composure faltered, her face twisting with
displeasure. Beonne flashed her a triumphant smile.
“Let’s see…” Beonne tapped her chin with a finger, drawing out her words deliberately as if
sifting through memories. The fan in the First Imperial Consort’s hand trembled faintly. “The First
Prince is thirty-five now, isn’t he? That incident happened around then, didn’t it? I heard it was
quite the scandal. Did His Majesty reprimand you at the time?”
The Empress, oblivious to the reference, merely widened her eyes in confusion. Just before the
First Prince’s birth, a major scandal had engulfed the First Imperial Consort. She had been
betrothed to another man before entering the Emperor’s harem. After breaking that engagement,
she became a concubine and soon conceived. Whispers followed her—some spiteful, others
vicious. The most damning claimed the child she carried belonged not to the Emperor but to her
former fiancé. The First Prince’s uncanny resemblance to the Emperor, coupled with the silent
endorsement of the black priests who guarded the imperial bloodline, eventually silenced the
rumors, but lingering doubts never fully faded.
The Empress’s ignorance of the affair was unsurprising. The First Imperial Consort had been
deeply wounded by the ordeal. Once she seized power, she hunted down those who had spread the
gossip, ensuring the matter was buried. Thirty-five years had passed since then. Few remembered
it now, and those who did kept silent. The First Imperial Consort was, after all, the empire’s
second most powerful figure.
Beonne had stumbled upon the story by chance. Shortly after becoming Empress, a grand party
had been held. People flocked to her like ants to sugar, eager to win her favor. Her relationship
with the First Imperial Consort was already strained, and they sought to please Beonne by
disparaging her rival. One guest, claiming their mother had passed down the tale, recounted it in
vivid detail. Drunk on her new status, Beonne had joined in, laughing at the First Imperial
Consort’s expense.
With a sharp snap, the First Imperial Consort folded her fan. Her eyes blazed with fury as she
glared at Beonne, who blinked slowly, feigning innocence.
“Is something wrong?” Beonne asked, tilting her head. “I hope my words haven’t upset you, Your
Highness?”
She offered a small, knowing smile.
“It was just a baseless rumor, after all. No truth to it. Unless, of course, it still lingers in your
mind?”
“…You’re fearless,” the First Imperial Consort hissed, her voice low and venomous.
Ignoring the piercing stare, Beonne lifted her teacup. The tea had gone cold. With a subtle wave,
she beckoned a nearby maid, who promptly replaced it with a fresh, steaming cup. Beonne inhaled
the fragrance before turning back to the First Imperial Consort with a smile.
“If I’m to one day lead the inner court, I’ll need this much courage to keep the subordinates in line,
won’t I? The palace is full of those who don’t know their place and try to climb above it.”
The First Imperial Consort’s brow twitched. The veins on the back of her hand, still gripping the
fan, stood out sharply. Only a fool could miss the implication. The title of Empress marked the
highest woman in the empire, yet the current Empress was so dominated by the First Imperial
Consort that she could scarcely breathe freely. Beonne’s words mocked that reality, hinting that
when she took the throne, she would not tolerate such overreach. It was a blatant challenge.
Like it or not, Beonne was now bound to the Crown Prince. She had already made an enemy of
the First Imperial Consort’s faction. Even if she broke off the engagement, nothing would change.
They might feign alliance for mutual gain, but Beonne would always have to guard her back. No
amount of calculation suggested she could ever be on good terms with the First Imperial Consort.
On a visceral level, they were incompatible—she was certain the feeling was mutual.
Beonne decided to push further.
“Excessive courage isn’t bravery—it’s recklessness, Lady Eliont,” the First Imperial Consort said,
each word clipped and deliberate, as if grinding her teeth.
Beonne took a sip of the hot tea, letting it warm her throat before setting the cup down.
“Depending on who wields it, recklessness can become a strength,” she replied coolly.
“Hah. A strength, you say?” The First Imperial Consort sneered, one corner of her mouth curling
upward in a mocking smirk, as if challenging Beonne’s claim.
Beonne met her gaze unflinchingly. A silence colder than ice settled between them, their eyes
locked in an unspoken duel.
“Ahem, by the way, your coming-of-age ceremony is soon, isn’t it?” the Empress interjected, her
voice shaky as she broke the tension. She had been holding her breath, caught between the two,
and now grasped desperately for a new topic.
Beonne shifted her attention to the Empress, raising an eyebrow at the sudden pivot.
“I was just curious about how the preparations are coming along…” the Empress trailed off,
casting a nervous glance at the First Imperial Consort.
It seemed they had prepared more than one angle to trap her. Beonne straightened in her chair,
leaning back against the cushioned rest. Whatever they had planned, she wouldn’t let them
succeed easily.
“I’m deeply honored by Your Majesty’s concern,” she said, her voice dripping with feigned
gratitude.
“I’m curious as well,” the First Imperial Consort added, unfurling her fan once more. Her eyes
remained as cold as frost, though a faint smile curved her lips.