Chapter 132

“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath, flopping back onto my sofa as if every muscle in my body has just given out. The pins in my hair pinch my skull, but they’re easy to tune out.

My eyes have that plastered sensation that arises when you don’t sleep enough so I shut my eyes for a bit. But when they shut, I see the same things I saw last night.

“Emma!” I say before my mind can register what my mouth is doing. The stoic maid is typically the best person to speak to when my stomach is in knots like this. And yet, I sent her away last night. She must hate me now, doesn’t she?

I can’t wait for the empress to approach Emma, just so we can end this farce sooner and I can have her by my side. We’ve been through the most harrowing events together, yet this is a trial I am undergoing alone. I could call her here, in a moment of selfishness. But with the empress’ suspicions at a height after what I did to Julia yesterday, it would topple down the house of cards I’ve precariously built.

Is there anyone else I can lean on?

An amethyst gaze winks at me in my mind’s eye. “Elias. There’s Elias, I suppose.”

“Your highness,” someone hisses from an unknown location. I practically jump out of my skin.

.....

“Oh my god! Who said that!” Those cumbersome skirts make leaping off the sofa into a fighting stance difficult, but no matter how silly I look I manage to do it.

“I am not a god. I am Emma,” Emma says from wherever she has hidden.

Even if a cup of coffee magically appeared in front of me, my mood would not have improved as much as it just did.

“Ok, god Emma. Come out, come out wherever you are!” I yell with my hands cupped around my mouth. There’s no way she’s under the sofas, Amir would’ve noticed her otherwise. I start moving towards the cabinets near the walls, the ones with enough space to house one stone-faced little maid.

“I will not come out if you summon every maid in the vicinity, your highness,” Emma grumbles. It is definitely coming from the east side of the room, near the tall cabinets.

“Naughty,” I scold, skipping closer to where she’s hiding. “Gotcha!”

I whip open the doors to a scowling Emma. “You only found me because I wanted you to, your highness.”

“If that makes you feel better, then sure,” I take a smug seat back on the sofa. Emma unfolds herself from the narrow space, rolling to her feet in one smooth motion.

“Hey, guess what I was craving the other day?” I sing, anticipating Emma’s answer.

“...” Emma blinks like a fish in a tank.

“Nice try!” I say as if she’d replied. “I was craving paan and jerky! The stuff we used to eat every day at the warfront.”

I’d been absolutely sick of it when we were hiding away from Empress Katya’s murderous schemes. But now, the taste has been lingering in my mind.

“The food at the palace tastes much better, your highness,” Emma sighs, plopping onto the couch.

“I guess people always want what they can’t have,” I mutter. But my spirits don’t stay down for long. “Hey! The plan! It worked!” I squeal.

“Naturally. It was impeccably planned, your highness,” Emma admits with a nod of approval.

“I-Is that a compliment?” I swear I can feel tears of joy in my eyes.

“If you recall, your highness, I also played a part in the planning,” Emma adds in uncharacteristically.

“One pay raise and you start getting more mouthy, eh?” I roll up the sleeves of my dress. “Just wait until I catch you!”

“You won’t, your highness. Not unless you command me to stay in place long enough for you to reach me,” Emma taunts in a serious voice. She swings up from the chair in a smooth motion, light as a dancer on her feet.

She is not wrong, as a few minutes display the large disparity in our physical fitness and prowess.

“Have you been practicing?” Emma asks me after a few minutes of fruitless chasing.

I groan loudly. “I’ll never be good at using a knife. My left hand is not suited for such things.”

The nails in my right hand try to bite into the meat of my palm, but there isn’t even enough strength in the damaged appendage to do so. I can still barely write with my left hand or eat with it and yet my current ability to do so has taken years of effort whilst feeling incredibly unnatural. The left-handed scissors in my elementary school had always given me a good chuckle until I’m now in a circumstance where such a technological wonder is not available in this world.

Emma shakes her head, the maid becoming a teacher in a second. “It protects you when I can’t. And in times like this where we are apart more often than we are together, some skill with a blade is imperative. Come now, we must practice.”

She tosses something at me, the short wooden staff that doubles as my practice dagger. I do have a real one, tucked away at the bottom of my jewelry box despite Emma’s disapproval.

“Go through the first set of moves I’ve taught you, your highness,” Emma instructs.

I grudgingly begin the movements that have nearly become second nature. A parry, a thrust, and a few quick reversals of the blade that might look impressive to the untrained eye. However with the speed and ease I’ve seen Emma perform these moves, my minor progress is nothing to admire. I repeat these until my baby hairs tape themselves to my forehead and my arm is heavier than lead.

“Good. Good. You have practiced, your highness,” Emma nods with approval, disbelief coloring her tone slightly.

“I’m a woman of my word, aren’t I?” I reply, chugging down my cold tea for hydration. “With that said, I can’t promise a future pay raise if you keep torturing me like this.” I roll my sore shoulder in circles with a frown.

Emma shrugs. “There won’t be any pay raises to look forward to if you were to be assassinated, your highness.” Emma brutally guts my argument and of course, she is right.

I’ve always admired the transmigrated female leads who showed up in a new world and manage to become professional swordmasters. But with this hand injury and a lack of people for me to fight (and my personal laziness), I haven’t really seen the need to take the plunge on this skill.

“Fair point,” I acquiesce. However, I’m not done messing around with Emma. “But haven’t you heard the saying, ‘Live by the blade, die by the blade’? Who knows, this could invite the possibility of me dying by being stabbed to death one day.”

As she ponders over my peculiar words, I slowly creep forward, inching towards her with an innocent expression on my face.

“Gotcha!” I yell, lunging in the air for Emma with a triumphant grin.

Today, I learned two new things. The first is that Emma is not a person, but an apparition capable of disappearing halfway across the room in a split second.

Elbow meets hardwood floor, the heavy impact striking my funny bone and sending that awful, tingling sensation through my arm. It doesn’t necessarily hurt, but with the way I’m gripping it you’d think I broke a bone.

“Oh, my arm!” I yell, watching through the corner of my eye. Emma is first indifferent, the concerned, before she is finally lured to my side. This time around I won’t be stupid enough to yell and announce my presence.

“Oh, oh, oh! Woe is me! My poor arm!” I continue. If Emma had taken a proper look at my face, she’d see that there aren’t any tears and that I’m lying, but this time around luck is on my side.

My arms are firmly locked around her when I finally whisper, “Gotcha!”

“Indeed, you did.” Emma sits obediently in my grasp.

“Impeccable planned was it not?” I nudge her for another compliment, not loosening my grip in the slightest.

“Very impeccably planned, your highness,” Emma always plays along well in these scenarios. It always makes her seem like the older sibling who allows their younger sibling to win for a change.

Speaking of siblings, one comes barging in right at this moment, the twin doors slamming open so hard the walls behind them are forced to take the brunt of the swing. We freeze, and by we, I mean I freeze.

Emma’s up within half a second, casting a wary glance at whoever is about to enter. But her fears are unwarranted as Augustus comes in with an imperial physician in tow. They clearly come in rush. Although Augustus isn’t out of breath due to the constant activity the emperor puts him through, the poor physician has his hands on his knees and is sucking in air like it’s the holy elixir.

“You may come in,” I greet sarcastically, pointing out his appalling lack of manners just now. “What’s with all this false concern?”

I was doing fine picking myself up off the floor, but Augustus walks over to come give me a hand. “I heard that you didn’t attend class today so I brought a physician to check on your condition.”

“Obviously, I’m fine. Do you know who could use medical attention right now? The empress. She must have a fever from all the rage she is feeling right now,” I add carelessly. All my reckless words are jus to cover up the fact that I am playing hooky for one reason only: to avoid my old man.

Yes, I know the imperial physician is still in the room. No, I don’t care.

But Augustus does. He’s got the mettle of someone accustomed to giving orders and he flashes some of it towards the imperial physician, who scurries off obediently without a word. He passes on the same to Emma, but Emma turns to look at me for my judgment.

I sigh. “She can stay. She was instrumental in yesterday’s affair.” But rather than calming the crown prince down, the words incense him further and he runs a frustrated hand through his dark hair.

“Oh yes, let’s discuss yesterday. What was that? Why did you do that?” he hisses, motioning for me to take a seat.

However, I’m more than comfortable standing and cross my arms in defiance. “That was me helping you. With the empress trying her best to clean up this mess, then your coming of age ceremony will face fewer obstacles. You do realize that is why all the dignitaries are here. Not for tomorrow’s pretty little banquet, but for you.”

“No. That was you putting yourself in unnecessary danger,” Augustus counters sharply. “Look at me. Look at me!”

He grabs my arm, a soft grasp despite appearances, and centers me squarely in his field of vision. I petulantly stare at the floor, at the little embroidered roses that swirl across my shoes. But they do not rest there for long. It’s impossible not to look up. Augustus’ tone and gaze are so earnest I’d feel like a villain if I kept my head tucked down.

Not to mention, this is the first time I’ve ever been scolded since I arrived here. It feels weird, and not in a bad way.

“I know we have a deal. But I... I don’t want anything bad to happen to you,” Augustus’ words seem to rip away the curtains hiding my emotions shining a light on the unpleasant feelings I am all too good at hiding away.

“Like you said, we have a deal,” I repeat robotically. “I have to see things through.”

“At what cost, Winter?” Augustus all but begs me.

“I- I’m sorry. I’m sorry, ok?!” I stammer out. My eyes are burning and my throat feels like it’s being choked, I absolutely hate this sensation. It reminds me of how weak I am.

“I know.” A stern appearance makes him look more like our father than ever, but there’s a light in his golden gaze that life hasn’t snuffed out yet.

The dam is about to break, water is a force of nature that over time will erode anything, even me. But then my face is buried in a shoulder that smells like Augustus and I’m wrapped up in arms three times the size of mine.

If a tree falls in a forest but no one is there to hear it, did it make a sound? Silent tears drip down my face, but they soak into Augustus’ jacket and disappear without a trace as if they never existed.

“Next time I will run my plans by you,” I promise. That’s a lie.

“I will be more mindful in the future,” I tell Augustus emphatically. That’s a lie too.

My chest burns, the hands of guilt twisting my insides into knots. I’ve lied many, many times, more than I can count. So why do today’s lies hurt more than usual?

We placate each other, a brother and sister in a family that punishes us for acting like one. If you had told me years ago that the dark-haired half-brother who glared fiercely at anyone other than the emperor would someday be my closest family member, I would’ve laughed.

Oh yes, the second thing I learn today? There may be a place for me after all in the crown prince’s heart.

“You’re still too soft, brother,” I say to the door when Augustus has finally left. “But I think that might not be such a bad thing.”

It just means that whatever children he fathers someday, they will be able to have the kind of dad I wished for in both my lives but never got.