The sun was unforgiving, casting a golden hue over the garden as I languished in the lap of luxury—if you could even call it that.
Maids fluttered around me like overzealous butterflies, one fanning me while another adjusted the cushions beneath me as if my comfort was the axis upon which their world spun.
Two more hovered nearby, holding silver platters with fruits, ready to feed me at a moment's notice.
All because of my brilliant plan to fake a pregnancy.
At that time, it seemed foolproof—a quick way out of the mansion, a perfect escape from any royal entanglements.
But instead of freedom, I found myself even more tightly bound.
Not pregnant, not even remotely interested in bearing the emperor's child, but here I was, pampered and protected like I carried the empire's future.
The irony wasn't lost on me.
And the emperor—oh, the emperor—he had bought it.
Completely.
That was the kicker.
I had barely registered how smoothly that nonsense left my lips, and before I knew it, his frosty demeanor had melted into something bordering on excitement.
Excitement!
I nearly gagged just thinking about it.
'Somebody please pass me a bucket filled with a drop of water, so I could drown myself in it.'
There was no escape.
The maids hovered around me like I was a fragile doll made of glass.
Day and night, they stuck to me, fussing over every detail.
Every window, every door—watched and locked.
I was trapped in a soft prison, one lined with velvet and gold but suffocating all the same.
That's how I ended up here in the garden, trying to choke down herbal tea that tasted like it had been brewed from dirt and despair.
I eyed the teacup in my hands with distaste.
"Why does it taste like this?" I muttered under my breath.
"I swear, they're using leaves straight out of the stables." I can't control my mouth since these tea leaves taste really disgusting.
One of the maids froze mid-fan, her eyes widening as though I'd just insulted the royal family itself.
"My lady, it is to help with your... condition," she said, her voice reverent and full of caution.
Ah, yes.
The condition.
My supposed pregnancy.
I flashed her a smile so sweet it could curdle milk, though inwardly, I wanted to throw the cup across the garden, shattering it into a thousand pieces.
Better yet, I could hurl myself over the mansion walls and disappear.
I was just beginning to map out the logistics of such a grand escape when I heard the rustle of footsteps near the entrance to the garden.
My heart sank.
Of course, it had to be him.
The emperor.
Because why wouldn't he choose this exact moment to show up?
My luck, ever since I spun that ridiculous lie, had been nothing but rotten.
Yes, it's rotten, just like the hearts of those who are laughing at my misery.
"Enjoying the tea?" His voice was smooth, deep, yet there was always a sharpness in his gaze that made my skin crawl.
He stepped closer, his raven black hair fluttered in the breeze, and his deep crimson eyes trailed over me with that same intensity, as if he were sizing me up for something far more serious than just a casual garden visit.
Added to the black clothes he wore, with a sword hanging near his waist—he looked like a devil.
A villain from those movies I used to watch while emptying buckets of popcorn.
I forced the most serene smile I could muster—an expression that said, I am delicate, I am pregnant, and I am utterly innocent.
"Of course. It's delightful," I lied through my teeth.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.
"Have you ever tasted shit?"
Cough!
I nearly choked.
If I had had tea in my mouth, it would have splattered across the grass by now, since I can't intentionally spit in his face.
I stared at him, my brain stalling as I processed what the emperor—the emperor—had just said.
Was he really asking me about… shit?
"Excuse me?" My voice came out a bit higher than I intended.
"The tea," he clarified, still completely serious.
"I imagine it tastes like shit."
I could feel the retort bubbling up inside me.
'Dear Sir, don't tell me that you have also eaten shit to know about the taste of this tea.'
But before the words could escape, my eyes caught the gleam of his sword resting at his waist, and the cold, calculating glint in his eyes.
Looking down at me as if I were a trembling, cute, innocent rabbit and he were an evil, cruel, heartless panther waiting for a single movement.
'Forget it. I will just ask him this later once I escape from this place.'
I forced a smile, though I felt my lips twitching in protest.
"I... well, I wouldn't know, Your Majesty."
He smirked, clearly amused by my discomfort.
"Good. Let's keep it that way."
I wanted to scream.
What kind of emperor makes jokes like this?
Was he testing me, pushing me to see if I'd crack under the weight of my own lies?
I was about two sips of this awful tea away from doing exactly that.
----
The days had blurred into each other, and somehow, two weeks had passed.
Two weeks of me pretending to carry the emperor's child, and two weeks of being fussed over as if I were the most fragile thing in the empire.
Every day, I woke up to the soft shuffle of maids in my chambers, bringing me food, herbal concoctions, and more unsolicited advice on how to 'care for myself.'
They hovered over me, scrutinizing every breath, every step, as though I might collapse at any moment.
I bet some of them were even pressing their ears to the door when I was trying to poop in peace!
At first, I thought I could keep up the charade just long enough to find a way out.
But the days stretched into weeks, and I found myself sinking deeper and deeper into this role of the expectant mother.
Every forced smile, every sip of that godforsaken tea, felt like another nail in my coffin.
And then there was the emperor.
He didn't visit me every day, but when he did, the air grew thick with tension.
He watched me closely, his gaze lingering on me in ways that made my skin crawl, though his words remained cold and formal.