Chapter 34
Isadora drew long on her silver pipe, then exhaled a thick plume of smoke.
“I should have killed that girl by force from the very beginning. Ideally before my son ever took the throne.”
She had served the previous Saintess, Evangeline, poisoned wine.
But even that had not been enough to quench her rage. First her husband had been bewitched, and now her son was being toyed with by another Saintess. How could she possibly be at ease?
“They say harming a Saintess brings divine punishment, but look at me. I gave that wench an agonizing poison, and here I sit, the Empress Dowager, enjoying every privilege of my station.”
Yet even Isadora had hesitated to lay a hand on the current Saintess while she was still a child. Touching such a being was the most absolute of taboos.
“The one consolation is that not a single Saintess in history has ever fallen pregnant.”
If, by some chance, a bastard were born between the Emperor and the Saintess, that would be a true catastrophe.
Given Lucian’s present disposition, there was every chance he would raise such a child as his own. And if that came to pass, the Empress would lose what little standing she had left and be reduced to a pitiable figure.
“I was once an Empress myself, so I understand that pain all too well. Right now, Rosalyn must be in agony.”
They had at least managed to consummate the wedding night, or so she had been told, but a husband so cold… the thought alone made her chest ache.
Moreover, Rosalyn had her own eyes and ears, so she surely knew the Emperor had gone straight to the White Tower.
Isadora had at least received love during her early years of marriage. Rosalyn could not claim even that.
“I should summon the Empress and counsel her myself.”
“A wise decision, Your Majesty.”
“Bring her to me.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Before long, Rosalyn appeared before the Empress Dowager with swollen eyes and offered her respects.
“I pay my respects to the Empress Dowager.”
“Come, sit down.”
Sophia brought out a chair. Rosalyn lowered herself into it.
“Have you been crying all night? You don’t look well.”
Rosalyn could not find words to answer.
“I heard the Emperor was cold to you.”
She gave a slow nod. She had done nothing wrong, yet Lucian’s treatment of her had been cruel beyond measure.
“And then he went straight to the White Tower, I’m told.”
“Yes…”
Tears pooled in Rosalyn’s blue eyes.
“I truly have done nothing wrong. And yet, for some reason, His Majesty is so terribly cold to me.”
No matter who had become Empress, the outcome would have been the same. Lucian was already bewitched by the Saintess, that much was plain.
“It is all because of that wicked wench in the White Tower.”
Isadora exhaled a stream of smoke.
“Perhaps it would be better for the Emperor to learn the truth.”
“The truth?”
“That those women are nothing more than the Emperor’s w****s.”
By all indications, Lucian had not yet laid hands on Asteria. He still believed she would lose her sacred power if she lost her virginity.
“The Saintess may seem like a sacred being to him now, but if he were to ravish her to his heart’s content, he might come to see her as nothing more than a mistress.”
“That’s…!”
“But if things continue as they are and his feelings only deepen, then it will truly be beyond anyone’s power to intervene.”
“I cannot accept that I must compete with the Saintess for my own husband.”
“I understand. I was once an Empress myself.”
Franz, too, had frequented the White Tower as casually as taking a meal, as though to openly declare that the previous Saintess was the Emperor’s w***e.
Isadora had burned with fury, yet could do nothing about it. She was forced to wait until the day he died.
Only then could she finally put that loathsome woman to a painful death. But even that had not laid all her resentment to rest.
“Nothing is certain yet, so let us watch the situation a while longer.”
“…Yes.”
“And stop spending every night in tears. If you carry on like that, the Emperor will only grow more repulsed.”
“Yes.”
Isadora nodded. For the time being, there was nothing else to be done.
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