Silence swallowed the room whole after my question. His jaw clenched, but no words came. The silence itself was my answer.
I lifted my chin. "Very well, your highness. If you cannot answer that question, then allow me to ask another."
His eyes narrowed.
"Why did you marry her?" I pressed. "Why did you marry Aria if you were a royal and she was only a common village girl? You were a prince—you knew it. And it was 'purely coincidental,' wasn't it? That you met her by an… accident."
I emphasized the word, letting it sting between us. Because deep inside, I knew—it had never been an accident. Princes do not simply wander into villages.
He stayed silent again, his lips tightening into a line.
I gave a bitter smile. "So I have my answer, your highness. Now I understand why your wife ran from you. Because no matter how I try, I cannot find a single truth in you to hold onto. A woman cannot cling to a man who hides behind silence, who only uses her for his convenience."
I rose from the bed, my legs steady though my heart wavered.
"Aria, it isn't what you think—"
But before he could finish, I had already stepped away, putting a hand's breadth of distance between us.
"As I said, your highness, you owe me no justification. I am nothing to you but a village girl. You shouldn't waste words on me. Save them for your wife. But for her sake, I hope you never find her. She deserves a husband who loves her, not one who hides truths behind a crown."
I gathered my skirts, bowing deeply, lowering my body in respect even as my words cut him.
"Now, if you'll excuse me—I must leave. My son will be worrying about me."
I turned and walked toward the massive doors. The weight of them strained against my hands, but I pushed until they yielded.
Two guards straightened immediately, bowing. "Greetings, your royal highness—the Empress."
The title hit me like a blow. I forced a smile, bowing slightly in return. "I believe there has been a misunderstanding."
Their confusion lingered as I stepped past them into the corridor.
The vast hall stretched left and right, endless, suffocating. I paused, lost in its immensity, unsure which way to turn.
"May I help, your highness?" A gentle voice broke the silence.
I turned. It was the same maid who had served me earlier in the emperor's chamber.
Relief flickered. "Yes, I do need help. Tell me—where have they taken Elian? I want to see him."
"Oh, the young master?" She smiled softly, bowing. "I know where he is. Please, follow me."
She led me down the left corridor, her steps quiet against the marble floor. We walked in silence until she stopped at the very end of the hall before a small door.
My hands curled into fists. Rage burned hot in my chest. How could a father place his son at the farthest corner of the palace, out of sight, out of voice's reach? If Elian cried, would anyone even hear him?
I looked back over my shoulder, toward the emperor's chambers in the distance. My glare sharpened. I only pray Elian never learns the truth of this farce—that he never comes to claim me as the emperor's wife.
"Your highness, this is the room assigned to the young master," the maid said, bowing slightly.
"Fine," I snapped. My voice was tight, cold. "They call him young master, yet treat him like he is nothing. What a farce."
The maid flinched, confusion flickering in her eyes. "I… I don't understand what you mean, your highness."
"You don't need to." My voice cut her off. "But tell your emperor this—if he cannot even pretend to care for Elian as an heir, even in his performance, then let us go. I will not endure this charade any longer."
With that, I swept past her, into the room.
The door slammed shut behind me, the lock clicking into place. I leaned against it, breath trembling, heart pounding in my chest.
Inside, silence. But this time, it was not his silence—it was mine.
"Mom! You're back!"
Elian came running to me the moment I entered, his small arms wrapping tightly around my legs. He buried his face into my dress, his voice muffled. "I was about to go look for you, but those tall people wouldn't let me out. I stayed inside, but… I was scared."
My chest ached. I crouched down to his level, smoothing his hair with trembling hands. "If you were scared, you should have told them. You could have said, 'Let me out—I am the son of the emperor.' Then they would have listened."
He pulled back just enough to look up at me, his eyes wide with confusion. "But, Mom… you said the emperor isn't my father. So how could I say I'm his son? Wouldn't that be lying? And you said I should never lie."
His little pout stabbed deeper than any blade.
Yes…Aria told him not to lie. Yet from the moment I stepped into this palace, every breath I've taken has been steeped in lies. A mother who deceives everyone—even herself—teaching her child to be honest. What kind of cruel irony is that?
I swallowed hard, forcing my lips into a smile that felt brittle. "Listen, Elian. No matter what I do, I do it for you. Even if I say the emperor is not your father… sometimes, when you feel trapped or afraid, you may use those words if they help you. Even if it sounds like a lie, it is not wrong."
He blinked, still uncertain.
I cupped his cheeks gently. "And what if… what if I tell you it's a game? Imagine this: sometimes we say he is your father, sometimes we say he isn't. It's part of the game. Do you understand?"
His expression brightened instantly, the fear fading from his eyes. "Is this a game, Mom?"
"Yes," I whispered, pinching his soft cheeks, a smile trembling on my lips. "This is a game. And if you listen to Mom, you will always be the winner."
"Oh! I love games so much!" he cheered, his small hands clapping in delight.
A lump caught in my throat as I pulled him into my arms, hugging him tightly.
Yes, Elian… I love games too. Especially the kind that keep you safe. Even if it means I lose every round, I'll make sure you win.