The Double Deception

My sister and I were married on the same day. After the weddings, we each settled into our own lives, and things were peaceful enough.

Who could have imagined that one day my husband would be injured and unconscious, and my sister, the Empress, would come running to me in the dead of night, asking us to switch places? I was so stunned I couldn't speak, just as my husband, lying in bed, mumbled a name in his delirium—"Rosie"—which was my sister's childhood nickname!

1

My sister and I were married on the same day.

My sister married the Emperor and became the Empress.

I married the Emperor's younger brother and became the Princess.

Everyone said that twin brothers marrying twin sisters was a double blessing, a match made in heaven, an incredibly auspicious sign.

But in reality, my sister and I are nothing alike. She has dimples; I don't. I have a tear mole at the corner of my eye; she doesn't.

It's the same way I can instantly tell the Emperor from the Prince.

Yet everyone still insists we look alike. I think they really need to get their eyes checked.

On my wedding night, a red veil covered my head, and I couldn't see a thing. I could only look down at my embroidered shoes.

What a miserable day it had been. I'd been bathed and dressed since early morning, and I wasn't allowed a single bite to eat all day. A maid had secretly slipped me two pastries, but I was still starving.

As the night grew deeper, and it approached the third watch, the Prince still hadn't come. I was faint from hunger.

But then I thought, today I am the bride, and I look more beautiful than I ever have in my life. I must show the Prince my best self. So I gave myself a little pep talk, straightened my back under the weight of my jeweled crown, and sat up a bit straighter.

The Prince… my husband, hehe.

Just thinking the word "husband" made me blush.

I wondered, when he lifts my veil, what should I do? Should I be shy and avoid his gaze, softly calling him "husband"? Or should I meet his eyes and smile brightly, greeting him with a cheerful "husband"?

Before I could decide, I saw a pair of dark red shoes appear in front of my embroidered ones. A strong smell of alcohol made me wrinkle my nose, but I thought, it's a happy occasion, after all! A few extra drinks were understandable.

My heart was pounding like a drum, and I was a little nervous. What should I do? I still hadn't decided how to address him!

He lifted my red veil. I put on what I thought was my most beautiful smile and called to him in a soft voice: "Hu—"

The look in his eyes was so cold that the word "husband" froze on my lips.

His face was flushed from drinking, and he was already a bit unsteady. He leaned one hand on the bedpost beside him and used the other to lift my chin, studying me for a long time with drunken, hazy eyes.

He was so handsome. Being looked at like that made me shy, and I lowered my eyes, unable to meet his gaze.

His hand traced along my cheek, finally stopping at the tear mole at the corner of my eye. He lingered there for a long moment, gently rubbing it with his fingertip.

"Look at me," he said, his voice low and husky.

I obediently raised my head to look at him and saw that his eyes had softened considerably. They weren't so frightening anymore. I gathered my courage, smiled, and called him "husband" again.

Well, that did it. His face turned cold again, and all the softness in his eyes vanished completely.

He pulled his hand back, stopped looking at me, turned, and walked out the door. As he left, he threw over his shoulder: "Princess, get some rest."

He left. He left me alone on our wedding night.

And… he seemed angry?

But I hadn't done anything to him! How strange!

2

Three days later was the day we were to pay our respects at the palace. It was also the second time I saw the Prince.

My husband, Julian Warrington.

He was standing in front of the carriage. When he saw me come out, he stared blankly for a long moment. I smiled and greeted him. He frowned, turned his head, and looked away.

Huh? Did he not like my smile?

I didn't think much of it and climbed into the carriage, sitting across from him. He leaned against the carriage wall with his eyes closed. I couldn't tell if he was tired or just didn't want to talk to me. I had the good sense to keep quiet.

The entire ride was spent in silence.

My sister, now the Empress, was very different from before. She had always been beautiful, but now she had an added air of dignity and elegance.

The Emperor, Marcus Warrington, was the Prince's twin brother. They looked exactly alike, except the Emperor had always been frail and looked much thinner than the Prince. At that moment, he was sitting by my sister's side, looking at her with such a warm, tender gaze that it melted your heart.

It was obvious the Emperor adored my sister.

I snuck a glance at Julian beside me and thought that my luck probably wasn't as good. I probably wouldn't receive my husband's affection. I sighed inwardly.

Strangely, though, my sister didn't seem happy. She was smiling, but I had lived with her for so many years that I could tell when she was truly happy or not.

There was no joy of a new bride in her eyes. Instead, she looked at a certain direction with sorrow and longing. I followed her gaze and saw that she was looking at my husband.

Julian Warrington.

And at that very moment, my husband's gaze was fixed intently on my sister. It was hot, intense, as if something was about to burst forth.

They just stared at each other, openly, as if no one else was in the room.

I was so startled that my hand shook, and I spilled my soup all over myself. This drew everyone's attention to me. I was mortified and didn't know what to do. Julian beside me frowned. The Emperor, however, just smiled and asked my sister to take me to change clothes.

While my sister was helping me change, I couldn't help but ask if she had known the Prince before. Her hands, which were smoothing my dress, paused for a moment. She only said she had met him a few times.

I actually wanted to ask if she liked him. But then I thought about it—we were both married now, and she was the Empress. It wasn't appropriate to ask, and I was afraid it would make her overthink things. So I kept my mouth shut.

The room was quiet for a moment, filled only with the rustling sound of my sister adjusting my clothes.

"Claire… the Prince… is he good to you?"

When my sister asked me this, I felt a pang of grievance. I thought about how I had waited for him until the third watch on our wedding night, how he had abandoned me on our wedding night, how he left me alone in the manor, ignoring me, and even giving me cold looks for no reason. All of this made me feel very wronged.

But when the words reached my lips, all I said was a bland: "The Prince is very good to me." It wasn't for any other reason. I was married now; I wasn't a child anymore. My sister wasn't my mother, who could protect me from everything. And even my mother couldn't interfere in matters between husband and wife. So why should I say anything and cause my dear sister any worry?

My sister was standing behind me, so I couldn't see her expression. I only heard her say softly, "That's good, then."

On the way back, a palace attendant told me that the Prince had gone on ahead and that I should take the carriage back by myself. Hearing this news, I felt a little lonely. I just replied with a simple, "I see."

But after taking a few steps, I realized my hairpin was missing. It was a gift from my mother before I got married. My sister and I each had one. I searched the path we had taken with a few attendants for a long time, but couldn't find it.

Suddenly, I looked up and saw Marcus. He was standing on the other side of a flower bed, looking at me with a gentle smile, his eyes curving. He asked me what I was looking for.

I curtsied to him and told him I was looking for my hairpin.

Marcus nodded and then took an object out of his sleeve. It was my missing hairpin. He said he had found it on the path earlier and remembered that my sister used to wear it, but she wasn't wearing it today, so he figured it must be mine.

I took the hairpin with both hands and quickly thanked him. Just as I was about to leave, Marcus called me back.

He said he hoped I would come and visit Rosie more often. She hadn't been happy since she entered the palace. He thought that since we were sisters, if I visited more, it would cheer her up.

He smiled, a little shyly, like a boy experiencing his first love.

I quickly agreed.

Suddenly, I felt very envious of my sister. To have such a good husband who cared for her and thought about her… that was truly wonderful.

3

My mother once told me that even if a husband and wife couldn't be deeply in love until their hair turned white, they should at least treat each other with respect, so that the future would be peaceful.

I thought my mother was right.

But was it really impossible for Julian and me to be a loving couple?

After all, who doesn't want to be deeply in love with their husband?

Since our marriage, we had exchanged fewer than ten words, and those were all polite and formal. He didn't even know me yet. I thought that maybe if he got to know me, he might come to like me.

So I tried to be a virtuous wife. I cooked for Julian, lit his lamp, ground his ink—I did all the things a wife should do.

But Julian was like a stone that refused to be warmed. He still ignored me, and sometimes even frowned slightly when he saw me.

I felt that not only did he not like me, he might even dislike me a little…

During this time, I often went to the palace to see my sister, as Marcus had suggested. Every time I went, one of the Prince's guards would hand me a food box and instruct me to give it to my sister to eat.

The food box was always filled with things my sister loved. Julian knew her tastes even better than I did!

I couldn't quite describe what I felt, but I was furious! It felt like a stone was lodged in my chest.

The first few times, I didn't give the food box to my sister. I ate everything in the carriage, not leaving a single thing for her.

The result was that I either almost choked to death on the food or was so full I could barely walk. I was really just making things difficult for myself.

Later, I stopped eating them and gave the food box to my sister untouched. I still remember the look in her eyes when she opened it and saw the pastries inside. They were filled with tears, holding a longing as vast as mountains and rivers.

I saw it, and it made me feel uncomfortable, deeply uncomfortable. Later, I learned that this feeling was called jealousy.

I don't know when it started, but I began to deliberately imitate my sister. The way she spoke, the way she walked, the way she looked at people.

Sometimes, even Marcus would be startled when he saw me. He would say, "The Princess and the Empress truly look alike. Sometimes even I can't tell them apart…"

I felt a secret thrill. But then Marcus said something else that made my heart sink.

He said, "If it weren't for the tear mole at the corner of the Princess's eye and the dimples at the corners of the Empress's mouth, I'm afraid no one would be able to tell them apart."

That night, I sat in front of my bronze mirror. I used makeup to cover the tear mole at the corner of my eye. Then I took a long, thin silver hairpin and pressed its tip against my cheek, trying to create dimples like my sister's. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't do it. The tip of the hairpin pierced my skin, drawing tiny beads of blood. I watched the blood drip onto the table, like little red pearls.

Suddenly, I felt so ridiculous. Before, I had always wanted to be different from my sister. She was Rose, and I was Claire. But now, Claire was trying to become a second Rose.

But I did it anyway. Since I couldn't make dimples, I would just have to cover the tear mole.

When I stood before Julian looking like this, he was stunned. He subconsciously called out a name, then instantly came to his senses and said nothing more. He just looked at me with a complicated expression.

But my efforts weren't entirely in vain. Julian's attitude towards me improved a lot. He wasn't as cold as before. At least during meals, he would serve me food.

I finally saw a glimmer of hope. I thought that maybe if I tried a little harder, he might eventually come to like me.

4

But then something happened that made me realize I should probably never hope for that day to come.

That day, I went to see my sister as usual. While we were eating, she suddenly started feeling nauseous. The imperial physician who was called in checked her pulse and then, beaming with joy, congratulated her.

My sister was pregnant, over two months along.

Everyone in the palace was overjoyed at the news. My sister stared blankly at her stomach, her face expressionless. I thought she was probably too happy to react.

When Marcus heard the news, he rushed over immediately after the morning court session, his face overflowing with joy.

He held my sister's hand and said, "Rosie, we're going to have a child. From now on, we'll watch this child grow up together."

My sister smiled, but there wasn't much joy in her eyes. She just obediently replied, "Yes."

When I got home, the steward was waiting for me at the gate, looking anxious. I didn't know what had happened.

When I got out of the carriage, he told me that the Prince had come back from court with a long face, locked himself in his room, and was drinking. He had been there all day and wouldn't let anyone in. He didn't know what was going on and asked me to go and talk to him.

I went to the Prince's room. Since our marriage, we had always slept in separate rooms. This was the first time I had ever been to his room.

I stood at the door and called to him softly. I heard the sound of porcelain shattering on the floor, followed by his roar: "Get out! Without my orders, don't anyone disturb me!"

His shout made my head buzz and my heart sink. I stood there for a long time, then left.

As I passed the steward, I told him that the Prince was in a bad mood today and to just let him be. Don't disturb him anymore.

The steward hesitated but agreed.

On my way back to my room, my legs felt heavy, and tears kept streaming down my face. I couldn't wipe them away fast enough.

The next day, before dawn, the Prince led a troop of soldiers to suppress some bandits.

He left in a hurry, without telling me, and without reporting it to the court.

Two months later, the Prince returned to the capital, critically wounded.

The general who had been with him said that the Prince had charged ahead as if he didn't care if he lived or died. No matter how much they tried to stop him, he wouldn't listen. In the end, he was shot in the chest with an arrow. The army doctor couldn't handle it, so they had no choice but to send him back. Only the best imperial physicians in the capital could give him a fighting chance.

In the two months he was gone, the Prince had lost a lot of weight. Because of his injury, he was deathly pale, his brow furrowed in pain.

The imperial physicians sent from the palace filled the room. They treated him day and night for several days. I stayed by his side the whole time, my eyes red from lack of sleep. Finally, one of the physicians said, "The danger has passed," and I breathed a sigh of relief.

During those days, the palace sent people constantly to ask about Julian's condition. The Emperor's men came twice, and my sister's men came five times.

Before he left, the physician told me that although the most dangerous period was over, he was still unconscious and needed to be carefully watched. Only when he woke up would he truly be out of danger.

I thanked the physician profusely and saw him out. When I went back to see Julian, he was still weak and haggard, but his face looked much more peaceful.

I took care of him day and night, barely pausing to rest, until I was so exhausted I could barely stand. I was starting to wonder if Julian didn't wake up soon, I might be the one to go before him.

I thought that when he woke up and saw how hard I had worked to take care of him, he might be very moved. Maybe he would even fall in love with me.

So I took care of him even more diligently.

Then, one night, an uninvited guest arrived at the manor.

My sister.

When she stood before me, for a moment I thought I was seeing things. I rubbed my eyes, but it was really her.

She grabbed my hand, tears streaming down her face like a broken string of pearls. "Claire," she said, "take me to see him."

I had never seen my sister cry so miserably. My heart softened.

When my sister saw the Prince, she threw herself on him, sobbing, "Julian."

It suddenly dawned on me. Once upon a time, in the inner chambers of our maiden home.

My sister had blushed and told me she had met a young man. She called him "Julian." Back then, I thought she was talking about the boy next door, and I teased her for having a crush.

I never imagined it was Julian Warrington.

Perhaps it was because his beloved had called his name, but Julian, who had been unconscious for so long, mumbled in his delirium: "Rosie."

That one word filled me with a mix of emotions. Seeing my sister's happy face made my chest feel even tighter. The heart in my chest slowly grew cold.

At that moment, I finally accepted reality.

My sister made a request. She wanted to stay and take care of Julian.

I was so stunned by the idea that I couldn't speak. I said, "Sister, you are the Empress! Leaving the palace without permission is against the rules. How can you not go back?"

My sister took my hand and begged me in a low voice. Her eyes were filled with tears, which spilled over and soaked her clothes, leaving large, wet patches. "Claire, we are twins. As long as we are careful, no one will notice. I don't ask for anything else. I just want to stay until he gets better, and then we'll switch back immediately."

I didn't say anything. I didn't look at her. I just stared at the toes of my shoes.

My sister paused, then continued: "Claire, since you married into the manor, the Prince hasn't been good to you. I believe you know why." I finally looked up at her. She went on, "It's because of me. Claire, I'm not here to rekindle anything with Julian. I know that our love was deep, but our fate was shallow. I can't bear to let go of this feeling, but I also don't want to see him do dangerous things because of me anymore. So Julian and I need an ending. An ending where I cut this bond with my own hands."

My sister said, "Claire, just this once. After this, he and I will be strangers. I will never have any contact with him again, and I will never come between you two again."

I could see my reflection in my sister's limpid eyes. Perhaps it was the unwavering determination I saw in them that moved me. Against my better judgment, I nodded and agreed.

But if I had known that this decision would cause so many more problems in the future, I would never have agreed.

5

Once I was in the palace, I was on pins and needles the whole time.

My sister said that as long as I was careful, no one would notice. Besides, I had been coming to her palace frequently for the past few months and knew everyone there. I had also managed to imitate her mannerisms almost perfectly. I thought it would be fine.

I lay nervously on my sister's bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep all night.

I only started to feel drowsy as dawn approached. My sister's maid, Lily, who had grown up with us, knew about our swap. Even if she hadn't, after all these years, she could tell us apart at a glance.

Lily gently woke me and told me that in a little while, the consorts from the other palaces would be coming to pay their respects to the Empress. She asked if I wanted to see them.

I told Lily that until my sister and I switched back, I would try not to see anyone. I would just tell them that the Empress was pregnant, feeling unwell and tired, and that I would be excusing myself from the morning greetings for the time being.

Lily nodded.

I thought I could just get by like this. But I never imagined that my excuse of being sick would actually cause problems.

When Marcus heard that the Empress was unwell, he rushed over right after the morning court session.

I had forgotten how much Marcus cared for my sister.

I sat opposite Marcus, pretending to be my sister. My heart was pounding with panic, but I had to act calm. I was worried that the tear mole at the corner of my eye wasn't properly covered, and I kept reminding myself not to smile. If he noticed that I didn't have dimples, he would know I wasn't my sister, and I would be in big trouble.

Marcus took my hand and asked with concern, "Rosie, where do you feel unwell? Let me call the imperial physician to have a look at you."

His palm was thick and strong. The touch of his smooth skin and the warmth of his hand made me nervous. I was even starting to sweat. This was the first time in my life that a man had held my hand, and he wasn't even my husband.

I subtly pulled my hand away from his and looked down. "Your Majesty, I'm fine. I just didn't sleep well and I'm a little tired."

Marcus breathed a sigh of relief. His gaze fell on me softly. "That's good. If you feel unwell, you must tell me."

In the following days, Marcus became even more attentive. He came to see me almost every day, chatting with me, playing chess with me. It seemed he hadn't noticed anything was wrong.

This made me think my disguise was really good, and I let my guard down a little. I still hoped my sister would come back soon so we could return to our proper places. Only then would I truly be at ease.

He was writing, and I was grinding the ink for him. Marcus had excellent handwriting. His strokes were strong and powerful, yet restrained. Julian's writing, on the other hand, was more thunderous and forceful, with a sharp edge in the pauses and turns. The saying "the handwriting reflects the person" was certainly true.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the trees, catching my eye. I looked up and saw a beautiful scene of apricot blossoms falling in the rain outside the window. I was so captivated that I stopped what I was doing.

After a long moment, I heard a soft laugh and snapped back to reality. He was smiling broadly. I asked him what he was laughing at, but he wouldn't tell me. He just kept laughing. I pouted and started grinding the inkstone again, round and round.

He stopped my hand that was grinding the ink. His smiling eyes reflected my face. "Don't be mad. How about I paint a picture for you to make up for it?"

Without waiting for my answer, he made me lean against the bedside table so he could paint me. I didn't know what to do with my hands or feet. He just told me to get comfortable, as the painting would take a while.

I sat up straight, my back ramrod stiff. Marcus looked at me and said, half-laughing, half-crying: "If you sit like that, you'll be sore and tired before the incense stick has burned halfway. Relax… yes, relax a little more. Rest your hand on the table. Don't cover your face with the fan. Yes, that's perfect."

Finally, after Marcus had coached me into the right pose, he began to paint. He would look up at me from time to time, then look down and add a few strokes.

At that moment, I could finally look at him openly.

Marcus's eyes always held a smile, like a pool of spring water that had melted the winter ice. It warmed my heart. I was a little curious. Marcus was so good, so gentle. Why didn't my sister like him?

"What are you thinking about? Why is your face so red? Is it from looking at me?" He was carefully sketching something on the paper. He raised one eyebrow slightly and teased me with a leisurely air.

He had hit the nail on the head. My face turned even redder. I glared at him in mock anger and retorted stubbornly, "No, Your Majesty. My face is red because I'm hot!"

He didn't reply. He just lifted the corners of his mouth, his eyes full of laughter.

I couldn't help it and ended up falling asleep. When I groggily opened my eyes, a face was so close to mine that I almost screamed. Luckily, I managed to hold it in.

He smiled, his eyes full of tenderness. "Awake? It's finished. Come and see."

Marcus's paintings were famous for a reason.

In the painting, I was half-leaning on the table. Outside the window beside me, apricot blossoms were falling, and a branch of the apricot tree had reached in through the window. It all fit together perfectly.

But the way he had painted me… why did I look so… full of affection?

Was that really the look in my eyes at the time??

Suddenly, Marcus came up behind me and trapped me between himself and the table. I was enveloped by his scent. My back touched his slightly frail chest. My mind went blank, and I felt dizzy.

His throat moved, and his voice was low and husky when he spoke: "I've been very happy these past few days. Can we stay like this forever?"

I could feel his warm breath on the back of my neck. It was warm and moist, making my skin prickle with goosebumps. My heart was pounding like a drum. I reached out my hand and pretended to accidentally knock over the cup on the table. I quickly picked up the painting to keep it from getting wet, and in doing so, naturally escaped his embrace.

I clutched the painting to my chest and knelt down to apologize. I didn't dare look up at him. I was sure he would be angry.

The room was deathly silent. After a long time, I heard him sigh. He said it was alright, he wasn't angry.

Then he reached out his hand to me. I followed his slender hand and stole a glance at him.

He didn't seem… angry, actually. But his eyes seemed to be clouded over.

Marcus was angry. I was sure of it.

Because he hadn't come to see me for two days.

He had also taken the painting away.

I asked Lily if the Emperor used to come to the Empress's palace every day. Lily said no, he had only been coming more frequently recently. When my sister was here, the Emperor would also come, but the two of them would sit together without saying much, and he would leave quickly. These past few days, the Emperor had been spending most of the day with me.

As soon as she finished speaking, Lily lowered her voice and said gravely, "Princess, this can't go on. When the Empress returns, it will be very easy for the Emperor to find out."

I thought Lily was right. I needed to keep my distance from Marcus. That was the safest course of action.

I also asked Lily if the Prince was feeling better.

Lily said the Prince still hadn't woken up.

I found that strange. My sister had come the night he showed signs of waking. It had been five or six days. Why hadn't he woken up yet?

Lily stammered something about the Prince's injuries being too severe, so it would take a while for him to wake up.

I looked at her with suspicion but didn't press the matter.

6

To avoid anyone discovering the secret of my swap with my sister, I kept myself confined to the courtyard and didn't go out. After a few days of being cooped up, Lily, afraid I would get bored, had someone build a swing in the yard.

When I was a child, there was a swing in the Ashford family home. I used to play on it with my sister all the time. We would compete to see who could swing higher. But later, our mother made us learn etiquette and forbade us from playing all day. She even had the swing dismantled.

So when I sat on the swing again, I felt genuine joy.

Lily pushed me from behind. The wind whistled past my ears. I felt light and carefree, as if I had no weight at all. All my worries seemed to blur and fade away in the wind.

I laughed and told Lily to push me higher, farther. The swing went higher and higher, until I could see the view beyond the walls of the Empress's palace. I thought, if I could swing just a little higher, maybe I could see farther. Maybe I could see the manor, the Ashford family home, and my mother?

But I didn't see any of that. Instead, I saw Marcus standing under a willow tree not far away. I didn't know how long he had been standing there. His dark, ink-like eyes were deep and unfathomable, fixed on me.

I panicked and quickly told Lily to stop the swing.

I got off the swing and straightened my clothes. Marcus had already walked up to me. I lowered my head deeply and curtsied to him.

He didn't say anything. I didn't dare move. I just stayed in that position.

After a long time, he finally told me to rise. He said, "Take a walk with me."

Marcus walked ahead, and I followed behind him. He didn't say anything, and neither did I. We had had quiet moments like this before, but for some reason, today's silence was laced with a strange sense of unease and trepidation.

I thought he was going to stay silent, but then he spoke. He said, "A few days ago, when the Prince was unconscious, you were very worried. But these past few days, you haven't asked about him at all."

My heart skipped a beat when he finished. I wondered if he had found out about my sister and the Prince.

Before I could think of an answer, Marcus asked again: "Why aren't you saying anything? Is that question so difficult to answer?"

His voice was calm and indifferent, but it sent a cold shiver down my spine.

I bowed my head respectfully, my mind racing as I quickly formulated my response. I said cautiously, "The Prince is His Majesty's own younger brother. I heard that those days were very dangerous for him. As his sister-in-law, it is only natural that I would be worried. The Prince is also Claire's husband. Claire grew up under my and my mother's protection and has never experienced anything like this. I was also worried that Claire might be overwhelmed with grief because of the Prince's injury, so I had to pay a little more attention."

I thought my answer was quite thorough. I stole a glance at Marcus's expression out of the corner of my eye.

He was standing by a lotus pond, looking calmly at the distant lake. I couldn't tell if he was satisfied with my answer or not.

His gaze was distant, and his voice became ethereal. He told me, "I heard that the Prince woke up three days ago. The Princess stayed by his bedside and took care of him for several days and nights. The Prince was very moved. Before, the Prince was very cold to the Princess, but now the two of them are very much in love."

He turned to me, his eyes probing, observing every change in my expression. Even though my heart was churning like a stormy sea, I had to force myself to stay calm and not show a single crack. I forced a smile and said, "That's… really wonderful."

I don't know exactly when he left. Maybe it was right after I said that, or maybe he stayed a little longer.

I stood by the pond, staring at the occasionally rippling water. My eyes were dry and sore before I remembered to blink. It wasn't until Lily came to find me that I went back with her.

Three days later, the Emperor summoned the Prince and Princess to the palace.

And so a very amusing scene unfolded. I was sitting next to Marcus, wearing my sister's Empress robes, while my sister and Julian sat below me.

Just like the first time I had come to the palace to see my sister.

My sister was wearing my clothes. She had painted a tear mole at the corner of her eye, just like mine, and was sitting obediently beside Julian, imitating my mannerisms. But she looked flustered, visibly nervous. She looked at me with guilt in her eyes.

Julian never once looked at me. He held my sister's hand, as if to tell her that everything would be alright.

See, no matter who my sister was with, she was always treated with the utmost gentleness.

I picked up my wine glass and downed its contents. I stopped listening to what they were saying. I drank one glass after another. Soon, my face was flushed red. I refilled my glass and was about to drink it when a hand reached out and grabbed my wrist. I turned my head. Marcus was frowning at me.

"This wine has a strong aftereffect. Drink less."

Fine, I wouldn't drink then…

But Marcus didn't let go of my wrist. Instead, his hand slid down and firmly grasped mine. His hands wrapped tightly around mine. I could feel their warmth and solidity. For a moment, it felt reassuring.

This blatant display of affection was, of course, not lost on my sister and Julian.

As the feast was drawing to a close, I watched my sister force a smile and say that she had been busy taking care of the Prince and hadn't seen me in a long time. She missed me and wanted me to stay and talk.

Before my sister could say anything, Julian interrupted in the most respectful tone imaginable: "Your Majesty, my health is only just beginning to improve. I cannot be without Claire right now. Perhaps in a few days, you can summon Claire to the palace to keep you company."

I stared at Julian and said, word by word, "But I really miss Claire too."

Julian lowered his eyes and evaded the issue: "Your Majesty, in a few days, please. I truly cannot be without her."

Julian didn't want my sister to switch back. The lovers had just been reunited for a few days and didn't want me to break them apart. Now, I was the one being unreasonable.

I clenched my fingers, my nails digging into my palms. I could even feel a slickness there.

"Since you can't bear to part with her, the Princess can come another day," Marcus said, waving his hand to dismiss the feast. "We all live in the capital. It's not like you'll never see each other again. There's no need to make it seem like a farewell between life and death." He took my hand and pulled me up to leave.

I had just stood up when I felt a wave of dizziness. I had drunk too much, and the alcohol was going to my head. My feet felt unsteady, and I stumbled, hitting a low table. The pain made me gasp.

Marcus bent down and scooped me up in his arms. I curled up in his embrace like a cat.

His actions were against protocol, but he didn't care about the strange looks from the others. He strode past them with long steps. As he passed Julian, Marcus paused. "The Empress is drunk. I apologize for the spectacle. But as I said, she is my woman. If I don't cherish her, who will?"

Once we were outside, I curled myself into a small ball and mumbled a "thank you" so softly that I couldn't even hear it myself.

That night, my sister sent Lily to give me a message. She said she was sorry and that she would switch back with me in a few days.

Lily hesitated for a moment, then continued: "Princess, please don't misunderstand the Empress. She wants to come back too, but the Prince is keeping her there. She can't get away. That's why it's taking so long…" Her voice trailed off.

I didn't say anything. I just turned over and went back to sleep.

7

Probably because of what had happened that day, I was in a bad mood. I just wanted to stay in my room and be alone.

But Marcus insisted on dragging me out.

I thought to myself that Marcus was really too idle for an emperor. I was perfectly fine staying in my room, but he had to drag me out… to… well… go boating… and at night, no less…

But I had to go. He was the emperor, after all.

I sat at the bow of the boat, my chin resting on my hand, watching Marcus pole the boat, left