Chapter 90
Cedric stepped aside. As Jaha walked past him toward the Emperor, she glanced back again and again—until that platinum blond hair finally vanished from sight.
“You’re late. What kept you—?”
The Emperor’s reprimand died on his lips when he noticed Jaha’s reddened eyes. The sight of her – clearly having cried herself to exhaustion – made his heart lurch uncomfortably.
Why?
Why had she been crying?
Had something happened during their brief separation?
Straightening in his chair, he pulled it closer and demanded:
“Who upset you?”
When Jaha remained silent, uncomprehending, his grip tightened on the armrest.
“I said, who made you cry?”
“No one.”
“Then why are your eyes like that?”
Jaha quietly bit the inside of her cheek. In this vast palace, only one person truly tormented her – and here that very culprit was, asking such questions. The irony would have been laughable if it weren’t so painful.
“Nothing happened. The tears just… came.”
“Hmph.”
The Emperor fiddled with his signet ring, torn between disbelief and frustration.
Crying for no reason?
Every instinct urged him to pry the truth from her, but by now he knew Jaha’s stubbornness well. Forcing the issue would only make her defensive. Swallowing his temper, he relented.
“Sit down and rest. Or lie down.”
Without protest, Jaha collapsed onto the large sofa – uncharacteristic behavior that betrayed her emotional exhaustion. Within moments, her breathing evened out in sleep.
The Emperor watched her, torn between exasperation and something uncomfortably close to concern.
“I told you to lie down, not to fall asleep.”
A slave sleeping comfortably in front of the working Emperor—this was likely unprecedented in imperial history.
“I knew you were bold, but this is beyond expectation.”
Jaha remained deep in dreamland until the Emperor stamped his final document.
As the Emperor rose from his chair, a servant approached to wake her.
“Don’t wake her. Carry her.”
“Shall I move her then?”
“Never mind. I’ll do it myself.”
The Emperor carefully slid his arms beneath Jaha and lifted her, taking care not to disturb her sleep. She didn’t so much as flutter an eyelid, lost in profound slumber.
Throughout the walk to the bedroom, he found himself staring at her face.
The tear tracks and reddened eyes made his chest tighten with an unfamiliar sensation.
It reminded him of when he’d forced her to repeat humiliating words—no, this felt worse than that.
I don’t want her to cry.
Unless they’re tears of pleasure, I want no tears to ever fall from these eyes.
Finally, he admitted it to himself:
He wanted to torment her, yet simultaneously protect her.
As he straightened her disheveled black hair after laying her on the bed, a sudden realization struck him.
He had never seen Jaha smile.
All he’d witnessed were expressions of suppressed emotion, defiance, shame, and pleasure-drunk ecstasy.
He didn’t know how her lips curved when she smiled, how her eyes shaped themselves in joy, what sound her laughter might make.
This absence became a thirst. His mouth went dry. An incomprehensible, intense longing overwhelmed him.
I want to see her smile.
If she were to smile brightly at me…
Feeling his heart pound, thud, thud, he began considering ways to make Jaha smile.
First, a gift.
Something to lift her spirits.
Jewels would be safest—he’d never met anyone who disliked precious, beautiful stones. He could give her other accessories and clothes too.
Not knowing Jaha’s preferences, he decided to provide every variety possible.
What else could he do?
How could he make her happy?
He realized with startling clarity that he knew nothing of what Jaha liked. No—if only it were just that.
Beyond matters of the bedroom, he knew shockingly little about her: only that she came from across the sea and had studied at the Academy. All this time, he’d been obsessed solely with her body.
The realization struck him with quiet force, enough to send a shiver down his spine and make his hands tremble slightly.
This is wrong.
Something is deeply wrong.
A foreboding chill crept through him—the kind that comes with recognizing an irreversible mistake. He tried to ignore the cold prickle at the nape of his neck.
How could an emperor’s treatment of a single slave possibly be such a grave error?
This wasn’t a war between nations, nor a thorny diplomatic issue, nor strife with the nobility.
I can still change.
Starting now, I’ll learn everything about her—one thing at a time.
This is nothing I can’t fix. If I can rule an empire, how could I fail to solve such a trivial problem?
Clenching and unclenching his fist, the Emperor racked his brain for what noblewomen Jaha’s age typically enjoyed—beyond jewels, accessories, and dresses. From what he’d observed, they seemed to favor flowers or small, cute pets they could raise.
Flowers were out, though. He’d already scattered what he considered the most beautiful blossoms across her bed and woven them into crowns, yet she’d shown no particular delight.
A pet might have been a decent choice, but the idea didn’t sit well with him personally.
I don’t want her sharing her time with another living thing. Her time should belong entirely to me.
“Desserts.”
The word escaped his lips as it occurred to him. He’d never met anyone, young or old, who disliked gourmet food. Perhaps he shouldn’t limit it to just desserts—if he treated her to exquisite delicacies at every meal, wouldn’t that make her smile? But what else could he prepare?
By the bedside of the sleeping Jaha, he pondered deeply for a long while.
Discussion
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pickle3
So this could either mean she will break and he will grovel, or he will grovel once she finds a way to get away.
Im guessing that Cedric might try helping her escape, or die