Two days earlier, Cerena had awoken in the Emperor’s chambers. He had invited her to spend the night there before departing himself, leaving her alone and without a word. Having slept only with one eye open, she was certain he had not returned since.

  She had then been escorted back to her room in silence, and the days seemed to have resumed their course.

  Yet something was troubling her. She no longer understood. Why had he left so abruptly? Why had he not come back? Had she committed some blunder? Was he displeased with her performance?

  It was not the first time she had been alone with him. It would not have been the first time he had touched her, that they had been in physical contact. That had dated back to her first visit to the palace… and at that time, he had taken no pains with her.

  She was therefore grateful that he had not forced her this time… yet she had been trained for months for the sole purpose of fulfilling her conjugal duty. And, in the end, the opportunity had not presented itself.

  Thus, she could not help but regard that night as a failure on her part, perhaps even as a dishonor, both for herself and for the Emperor.

  How was she to know? How should she address the matter? How could she make amends?

  She waited for his return, hoping to clarify matters. Yet he never came, leaving her with a sense of confusion and unease.

  ???

  On the third day, pacing back and forth, she still did not know what to do. At last, she decided to summon the Captain through the guard stationed outside her door.

  “Of what do you require, My Lady?” he asked upon his arrival.

  “I wish to request an audience with His Majesty. Privately,” she replied, determined.

  The Captain regarded her for a moment with circumspection.

  “I shall inform him at once.”

  “No, I beg you… not here.”

  Her room reminded her too much of memories she preferred to leave behind.

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  He hesitated, whispered an order to his subordinate, then said,

  “Very well. Please, follow me.”

  He led her into her husband’s chambers, leaving her to wait. Long minutes passed before the door opened once more, revealing the Emperor.

  He closed the door behind him and stepped forward slightly, hands clasped behind his back, observing her in silence. Cerena, who had seated herself while waiting, rose and bowed in respect. Fearing to meet his gaze, she addressed him while keeping her eyes fixed on the floor.

  “Majesty, forgive me for troubling you, but…”

  He said nothing, waiting for her to finish.

  “Have I committed some error, or have I displeased you?”

  “Why dost thou ask this?” he said, attentive.

  “You left so swiftly last time… and did not return. Should we not have… if I have done something amiss… I beg your forgiveness…”

  He remained silent.

  “I have told thee,” he said after a moment. “I shall not touch thee without thy leave. I wish merely that all may be made clear.”

  Cerena lifted her eyes toward him, her heart tight. Why did that answer not satisfy her, and why did she suddenly feel the need for him to look at her?

  She swallowed, clutching her hands, then took a step toward him.

  “Your Majesty… I… may I approach?”

  In response, he inclined his head, without averting his gaze. She moved forward cautiously, her eyes lowered.

  Her heart quickened with every passing second as she drew closer to him, and a shiver ran through her: she had never yet dared to take the first step. Yet she stopped only a few centimeters away.

  She drew a deep breath and lifted her gaze to him: he towered over her by more than a head. She had never truly noticed this detail before. Rising onto her tiptoes, she drew closer to his face, and, closing her eyes, pressed her lips to his.

  He did not pull her away, nor did he return the kiss. When she withdrew, she caught the shadow of a smile on her husband’s face. Hands still clasped behind his back, he continued to regard her with intensity.

  Cerena felt as though she saw him nod ever so slightly, before he turned and left the room.

  She let out a deep sigh, her heart racing, then, seating herself on a chair, she brushed her lips lightly with the tips of her fingers. It was the first time she had kissed him; strangely, no such act had ever been imposed upon her before.

  Had she made the right decision? What would he choose to do next? Should she take the first step once more? And above all… when would he return to see her?