Emperor’s Alternate - Chapter 86

There was nothing I could do but keep my mouth shut. The Sixth Prince, however, yanked my blanket off with force, as if he wanted to tear away a shield I had no right to. It landed in a heap on the floor, and he stared down at me with the kind of look that made me think that if he could, he’d wrap his fingers around my neck.

“I hate you. Sometimes I want to kill you. No, often, I feel that way.”

“……”

“But seeing you sick, seeing you shivering like that, it just makes me furious. You should be sitting up with that ridiculous chin of yours raised high, looking down at me like always. Not… not gasping like some broken thing. Don’t you get it? I never let things slide just because I felt sorry for you!”

He raged like a child throwing a tantrum, which, in the end, he was. Just twelve years old, no matter how cruel he tried to be. All that fury, all that confusion, collapsed into tears.

“She’s my mother! Not yours!”

“……”

“I’m her son! You…you’re just the child of a traitor…”

Ashamed to have cried in front of me, he grew angrier. He didn’t dare strike me, sick as I was, so instead he slammed his fists against the side table beside my bed. The desk took the brunt of it with a loud, theatrical bang bang.

If I said the “desk rage” looked more pathetic than threatening, he’d probably fly into another fit.

Surely the servants outside could hear the commotion, but not a single one dared to come in.

“You’re irritating. Your very existence disgusts me!”

My head throbbed, but I knew why the Sixth Prince was lashing out like this.

The truth was I knew very well that I had been his first love.

And how did I know that?

…I really wish I didn’t.

‘Is it always this annoying, being the object of someone’s affection?’

That was the thought that floated through my fever-hazed mind.

***

It was a few days later I think, when the Sixth Prince, who had taken over my care in the Courtesan’s absence, suddenly spoke to me.

“Today’s the day your family was executed, right?”

“……”

“Why aren’t you crying?”

“My tears must’ve dried up.”

I answered calmly. But to my own surprise, just seconds later, tears slipped down my cheeks.

The very person who had intended to wound me looked startled, practically leaping back.

“I didn’t say that to make you cry, you idiot!”

The Sixth Prince grumbled, muttering about how he didn’t know why Her Majesty had dumped this tiresome caretaking on him. Then, as if coming to a decision all on his own, he added, “Still better me than watching her dote on you like that.”

He tossed a handkerchief my way. I supposed that was his idea of an olive branch — an invitation to wipe my face. But I was too weak to move. My limbs felt like wet cloth. I simply lay there, breathing.

He swore under his breath, snatched the handkerchief back up, and clumsily dabbed at my tears himself.

It was odd, watching him like that — nervous and tentative. As if gauging my every reaction.

“…Well, serves you right. Shouldn’t have committed treason.”

“It wasn’t treason.”

My denial was immediate and unflinching.

“They were false charges.”

“……”

The twelve-year-old boy, momentarily cowed into silence, clenched his teeth and snapped back.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re the daughter of a traitor. If not for me, you wouldn’t even be alive.”

I didn’t want to hear it, so I turned my head away from the Sixth Prince. The boy, fueled by spite and childish pride, kept lashing out.

“I heard everything from mother. That you ran to her the moment your family was wiped out, begging for your life, saying you could put me on the throne.”

“…That’s true.”

“Then your life belongs to me. Your body and mind are under my command. So why do you always act so arrogant with me?”

I turned my head back toward the Sixth Prince. Just receiving my gaze made him so happy that his ears flushed red without him even realizing it. He spoke as if he stood above me, oblivious to how transparently he gave himself away.

In adolescence, three years was an absolute difference. At fifteen, I could read the twelve-year-old boy’s heart all too easily. Unfortunately for him, this love had been doomed from the start.

I had no intention of ever returning that first love — not in this lifetime.

“…Your Highness, someday I will kill your father with my own hands.”

“……”

“If you hate that future so much, then kill me here and now.”

I said it calmly, as if I had no regrets left in this life. For a moment, the Sixth Prince seemed stunned, as though my words had knocked the air from his lungs. But then, perhaps realizing that what I said was an insult aimed at him — or perhaps feeling his pure affection trampled before he even had the chance to confess — he exploded in fury.

“You’re absolutely savage. There’s not a shred of femininity in you! Ask any girl on the street — any one of them would be more modest and ladylike than you! What kind of girl spews such venom every time she opens her mouth?”

“I mean what I say. And I follow through.”

At my firm reply, the Sixth Prince finally unsheathed his sword. Trembling, whether from humiliation or rage, he pointed the blade at me.

“Shut up. Shut that mouth of yours!”

“……”

“I can’t stand the sight of your smug face… I can’t even bear to look at you.”

But the prince’s sword did not strike me. Instead, he turned away first and stormed out of the room.

Bang!

The door slammed.

I stared blankly for a moment, recalling how fast his retreating figure had disappeared, like he was running away. But really, the Sixth Prince didn’t need to say anything. As if I could forget the day my family was executed. It’s not hard to remember. it’s exactly one week before my birthday.

Even just looking at how I, usually so healthy, had suddenly collapsed with the flu, should’ve been enough for him to suspect something was wrong. But then again, expecting that kind of sensitivity from those two, both the mother and the son, was probably asking too much.

At last alone, I quietly closed my eyes. A few more tears slipped down my cheeks.

More than anything… I missed my mother.