Chapter 12
After visiting the dressmaker, Iris went into seclusion at a time when people were paying even more attention to her. To be precise, she planned to stay hidden until just before the ball.
‘People tend to grow more anxious and eager when the object of their curiosity disappears right when they’re dying to know more.’
Since it was already a foregone conclusion that Lady Iris would attend the ball as the Crown Prince’s partner, people would eagerly await the event just to confirm the rumors.
‘If I cement the image of his fiancée there and the Crown Prince has an affair, it’ll be hilarious.’
People would point fingers at poor, wronged Iris, but when she thought about the compensation that would follow, she couldn’t care less about being pitied.
She was going to leave everything behind in this empire, take the money, and head abroad.
‘Just a little more patience…’
She rolled around in bed, hugging her pillow. After the ball, she’d be too busy to even blink, so she had to indulge in laziness now.
Knock, knock.
As she was rolling around in her room, someone knocked and then barged in without waiting for permission.
When she looked, it was Jack. Still clutching her pillow, she rolled over.
“What?”
She asked, staring at him, and noticed he was holding a plate of pancakes for a meal.
A pat of yellow butter sat on the white plate, giving off a savory aroma.
“Food.”
“Not hungry.”
“Eat.”
“Seriously.”
He often acted like he was looking out for her. Though, of course, it was probably just to make sure she ate well, worked hard, and paid off her debts.
Instead of getting up, she opened her mouth wide.
“Feed me.”
“Now you’re making me do all sorts of things.”
“You’re the one who brought it, saying I should eat when I said I didn’t want to.”
“Ugh, fine.”
If he was going to exasperate her, she’d exasperate him right back.
That was Iris’s philosophy. She thought he’d just walk out with the food, but instead, Jack dragged a chair from the nearby table to her bedside and sat down.
He placed the tray on his lap, cut the pancakes into bite-sized pieces with a fork and knife, and brought them to her mouth.
It was Iris whose eyes widened at this unexpected behavior.
“Eat.”
“Did you eat something weird recently or what?”
“I’m giving it to you, so just eat, will you?”
“No way.”
She’d thrown her shame away long ago. Still lying on her side, she opened her mouth wide. Jack, looking annoyed, said,
“At least sit up to eat?”
“Oh, worried I’ll get indigestion? How sweet of you.”
Giggling, she sat up, still hugging her pillow, and a forkful of pancake entered her mouth.
The savory flavor of the pancake and the smooth buttery taste hit her.
“It’s pretty good.”
She mumbled while chewing, and Jack let out a sigh. Iris generally had a touch of depression.
She might not think so herself, but the fact that she wouldn’t leave her bed all day when there was nothing to do said it all.
And every time, it was Jack’s job to force her to eat.
Up until now, she’d at least made a show of eating when food was brought, but now she was demanding to be fed. Last time, she even asked to be bathed.
As Jack paused, thinking about this, Iris, who had been eating the pancakes like a baby bird, looked at him. His gaze drifted down to the pajamas she was wearing.
“…”
“What? If you’re going to feed me, finish the job.”
“…No, it’s fine.”
Swallowing a sigh, he diligently brought more pancakes to her mouth. Meanwhile, unnoticed by her, his ears were turning red.
Click, slam!
After finishing the meal, Jack slammed the door shut and left, leaving Iris alone in the room.
“Whoa, that startled me. What a temper…”
Sitting there blankly, she got up from her seat. Lying down right after eating would make her stomach feel heavy.
As she paced the room to aid digestion, she suddenly noticed a faint *tap, tap* sound, like something pecking.
“Crow?”
Thinking it was Jack’s crow, she smiled brightly and opened the terrace door. But there sat an unfamiliar bird, tilting its head.
“Who are you?”
The pigeon, adorned with a neat ribbon around its neck, had a small note tied to it.
The white, elegant pigeon looked so different from Crow, almost as if it came from the palace…
“No way…”
With a dubious expression, she unfolded the note and, as expected, saw the Crown Prince’s name.
She gave a half-hearted glance at his name, then frowned at the contents below.
“she’s moving faster than I thought, our Empress.”
Was she so irritated that she wanted to get rid of her quickly?
But Iris had reasons to stay by his side for a while and had no intention of letting the Empress have her way so easily.
“Empress Loberia, the ambitious woman who seduced the Emperor and took the Empress’s seat as soon as the previous one died.”
And she was subtly at odds with the current Crown Prince, hoping her future child would take the Emperor’s throne.
“Well, well.”
She burned the note with a match and hummed.
“I feel a bit bad for His Highness the Crown Prince.”
But since it would keep the Empress quiet for a while, she hoped he’d forgive her.
She gave a sly smile.
Alright, time to use one of the perks of being a transmigrator.
* * *
The Empress’s palace currently had an atmosphere like walking on thin ice. Why?
Because despite the Empress carefully selecting and grooming candidates to serve as her pawns for the Crown Prince’s match, some unknown commoner girl had suddenly risen out of nowhere.
“Lady Iris, you say? How absurd.”
“Your Majesty, His Highness the Crown Prince must be momentarily infatuated. In time, he’ll surely realize the match Your Majesty arranged is far better.”
At the maids’ flattery, Empress Loberia nodded slowly, taking a sip of her tea.
The beautiful woman had a gentle expression, as if she were merely concerned about her stepson’s wayward behavior, untainted by a drop of her blood.
“He’s still at an age where he’s drawn to beautiful things.”
“All she has is a pretty face, so that’s the problem.”
“Exactly. The ladies Your Majesty carefully selected are far superior.”
As the maids continued to praise her discernment, the Empress, not entirely displeased, set down her teacup and smiled faintly. But even she had one worry.
“By the way, the method the doctor mentioned last time still hasn’t worked.”
As her mood sank in an instant, the maids’ faces stiffened. The reason was that, despite being Empress for quite some time, she still had no children.
“The doctor said it would only increase the chances of pregnancy, not guarantee it with any specific herb…”
“What I need right now is a guaranteed
method.”
The Empress said coldly. She needed to bear a son. And she needed to push out the current Crown Prince so her son could become Emperor. But even getting pregnant was proving difficult.
‘Until now, I planned to control the Crown Prince by placing my own person as his Crown Princess. But if pregnancy is this difficult…’
The Crown Prince, that cunning thing, must have already seen through her intentions and brought in a commoner girl he could easily manipulate.
“No, this won’t do. I need to see that girl before the ball. Send word to her.”
“Understood. When shall we arrange it?”
She gave a faint smile.
“Tomorrow.”
It was a terribly rude move, but—
“Immediately.”
What could a commoner girl with no backing do about it?
After saying that, the Empress rose from her seat. The maids naturally stood and followed her.
“Let’s go see His Majesty the Emperor.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
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And after some time had passed, that evening, Iris—
“Tomorrow, immediately? Talk about no manners.”
She was munching on cookies, incredulous at the Empress’s teatime invitation from the palace. The cookies, of course, were made by Jack’s hands.
‘He’s surprisingly talented.’
“What do you think?”
“What do I think? Obviously, she wants to put you in your place.”
“These high-ups are so petty.”
“You don’t seem nervous?”
“Why would I be nervous?”
She giggled, stood up, and flipped through a calendar. Then she slowly started calculating something.
“It’s definitely around this time.”
“What?”
“Just something.”
She snapped the calendar shut.
“Her Majesty the Empress is terribly worried that she might not be able to conceive. I’m thinking of solving that for her and shutting her up for a while.”
At that, Jack asked, dumbfounded,
“How are you going to solve that?”
“There’s a way.”
She smiled slyly.
‘There’s a transmigrator perk you don’t know about.’
For example—
‘I know exactly when the Empress will get pregnant.’
But should she tell the Crown Prince about this too?
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By Anna 💓
