Chapter 2: The Emperor’s First Visit

Morning in the harem palace began with a fierce ritual of grooming.

Maidservants carrying basins of washing water, fine muslin cloths, and silver cosmetic jars hurried through the palace corridors, a sight that was common every morning in this annex.

According to the strict laws of the empire, the concubines were required to rise early and compose themselves properly.

After the head maid stood before the door and offered morning greetings, if no response was heard, she would enter and shake a silver bell to awaken the concubine.

Once the concubine rose and bestowed a blessing according to etiquette, the maids would bow their heads and pray for the well-being of both the emperor and the concubine.

Afterward, meticulous grooming would continue throughout the morning, a court custom upheld for centuries.

“Lord Fria, the sun is already high in the sky.”

At this point, she didn’t even expect him to dress up, she just wished he would wake up on time.

Judith, the sixteen-year-old head maid of the Swallow Palace, clutched her head in frustration.

If she had followed her mother’s advice and debuted in society, she would be the flower of the ballroom by now.

Instead, deceived by sweet promises of becoming a head maid, she ended up serving a male concubine who was not only neglected but practically a laughingstock.

‘Oh heavens, how cruel.’

Judith cursed her fate again and again.

As always, there was no response today either.

Fuming, Judith stepped into the concubine’s bedchamber, followed by several middle-aged maids.

From within the long-draped canopy came the soft, steady sound of deep sleep.

The silver bell had long since been thrown out the window into the rear garden by Judith, who had grown tired of shaking it to no effect.

Would they really have to bang on a basin with a spoon like common servants just to wake him again today?

She had expected some doll-like princess, hearing that a concubine was coming from Alphennia, a land famed for its beauties.

But instead of a princess, they received a male noble who had long since passed marriageable age.

Judith’s despair was not simply because he was male.

The empire’s history recorded plenty of beautiful male consorts who had won the emperor’s favor and lived in splendor.

And even if his natural looks were lacking, Judith was confident she could transform anyone into a beauty capable of toppling kingdoms.

Her skills in makeup, styling, accessorizing, and outfit selection were second to none among the palace maids.

However.

Were those fools in the Duchy of Alphennia in their right minds?

Sending a twenty-four-year-old man as a concubine!

He was five years older than the emperor himself.

And worst of all, this lord had not the slightest interest in personal grooming.

While noble ladies from other lands entered the palace carrying the latest cosmetics and dresses, this older male concubine brought nothing but plain clothes that even palace attendants wouldn’t wear, along with a stack of thick books that gave her a headache just looking at them.

Was such low taste really coming from trendsetting Alphennia?

Or was this some kind of retro fashion?

“Please wake up. Today is the tea gathering.”

Once every fortnight, under the pretense of social bonding, the concubines engaged in a fierce fashion battlefield, the tea gathering.

Judith felt her head pounding.

Would she have to once again offer excuses of illness and endure the mocking sympathy of other head maids?

“Lord Fria!”

Her patience exhausted, Judith pulled back the canopy.

The midday sunlight poured straight onto the man’s face.

Caught in the sudden assault of sunlight, he groaned and shifted.

“The gathering is at Lily Palace today. If you don’t want to be late, you need to hurry.”

Since entering the palace, the master of Swallow Palace had never once expressed any intention of attending such gatherings.

Still, she could not simply decline on his behalf without asking.

“I’m not going.”

Turning away from the sunlight toward the wall, he refused as usual.

“It’s fine if you don’t go, but you really must get up now. You even skipped breakfast.”

Seeing no sign of him rising, Judith gently shook his shoulder.

Slowly, beneath tightly furrowed brows, clear blue eyes revealed themselves.

“Judith, I’m sleepy. I went to bed late last night.”

Muttering that, he turned further and buried his face completely.

Suppressing the urge to yank his disheveled golden hair, Judith forced herself to deliver a proper morning greeting.

“Lord Fria, did you rest well last night?”

‘Damn these imperial manners. Hurry and give the blessing. Please just give the blessing already.’

“Yeah. Judith, you too… eat well and live well.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than he pulled the blanket over himself and disappeared beneath it again.

Quick-witted noble girls had already resigned and returned home, realizing that serving under such a master would never earn them the emperor’s attention.

Judith, bound by the meaningless pride of her position as head maid, remained the only noble maid left in Swallow Palace.

Aside from her, only a few veteran servants assigned by the palace remained, barely maintaining appearances.

In truth, setting aside the fatal flaws of being male and older than the emperor, Fria was an exceptionally beautiful concubine.

Golden hair that flowed like honey, clear blue eyes like an autumn sky, arched brows, long lashes casting shadows beneath them, delicate features filling his small face, smooth milky skin, and a slender figure—he was a breathtaking beauty as if painted into existence.

“If only Fria were a woman,” the maids would say in unison, “he might have had a chance at winning the emperor’s favor.”

After all, what man would want to embrace someone five years older than himself, even if they were a concubine?

Yet there was not a single head maid in this palace who did not dream that the concubine they served would one day earn the emperor’s love and ultimately become empress.

Judith too had once tried everything to dress Fria up and catch the emperor’s eye.

But as the saying goes, you can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make it drink, Fria’s resistance was absolute.

If she combed his hair, he would quickly tie it up out of annoyance.

If she dressed him in luxurious garments crafted by imperial artisans, he would immediately change back into plain clothes, calling them cumbersome.

When she once placed a musk sachet in his clothing, after great effort acquiring it through her mother, he had asked flatly whether she truly believed the emperor would ever come here, reducing the hopeful young girl to tears.

The cosmetics, jewelry, and fine fabrics issued to the concubines upon entering the palace were left forgotten in a cabinet corner.

At least one thing was fortunate: the emperor had not visited any concubine’s residence yet.

Even after half a year on the throne, he had not once set foot in the harem.

There were not even rumors of him taking any maid to bed.

Whispers that the emperor was impotent had begun spreading throughout the capital.

The grand dukes who had sent their kin to the palace grew increasingly anxious.

The long-awaited news of an imperial heir had yet to come, even as winter passed into spring.

Still, the concubines did not ease their vigilance toward one another.

Flowers bloomed in the gardens regardless of who watched, and the scent of perfumes never faded from the residences.

Judith thought it was better this way—better for all of them to be equally neglected than to see another concubine favored.

Unloved concubines often fell ill without cause or lashed out in hysterics at their maids.

In that sense, Judith considered herself fortunate.

This carefree male concubine could likely live on just fine even if the emperor never came, not just for half a year, but for half a lifetime.

“Your Majesty, petitions from the duchies are flooding in. You have left the harem unattended for over half a year, and now even ignorant commoners in the streets are spreading disgraceful rumors about you. Her Majesty the Empress Dowager is deeply concerned. I humbly advise that now is the time to focus less on territorial expansion and more on producing an imperial heir.”

As always, Owen frowned at Duke Ferma’s relentless nagging.

Though he was young, few dared risk their lives to advise the cold-blooded emperor to take a consort.

Only his maternal uncle, Duke Ferma, continued to visit his office and urge him to embrace a concubine for months on end.

After Owen ascended the throne, his mother, the former crown princess, became empress dowager.

Claims of her concern were false.

Having been neglected by her husband her entire life, she shut herself away, rejecting even her children.

Her hatred for her sons, who resembled their father, was evident in how she never once visited her eldest son Arthur, even as he lay dying.

Owen, who resembled her twisted temperament, likewise turned away from his mother.

Their cold war had continued even years after Arthur’s death.

“Why not just close your eyes and pick one? That way, the rumors about you being impotent might die down.”

The man speaking sat irreverently in the emperor’s seat, stamping documents in his stead.

It was Byron, Owen’s cousin.

He had come to help after waiting for his father, Duke Ferma, to leave.

Six years older than Owen, Byron was the only person the aloof emperor confided in.

“I don’t need a child. I have Leon.”

Murmuring his young nephew’s name, Owen closed his eyes.

Along with it came the image of Lindgart, who had confined herself after his brother’s death, her eyes filled with sorrow.

To the brothers, who had no older sister, Lindgart had been like family since childhood.

“Then take a concubine who can’t bear children. I heard there’s even a male concubine in the annex.”

The concubine in question was from Alphennia.

Of all things, from Alphennia, the place Owen despised, and worse, a man.

Knowing his cousin’s strong aversion to such preferences, Byron glanced nervously at Owen.

“It may be crude, but if you just prove you can perform, won’t that settle things for now? It’s not like a single encounter will magically result in a child.”

Though Byron had been with countless women since youth, no one yet called him father.

Owen had never once considered any heir other than Leon.

Unlike their dissolute father, his brother Arthur had been brilliant from childhood, praised as a natural-born emperor.

Had tragedy not struck, he would have brought the empire glory.

Owen intended to fulfill his duty so that Arthur’s only son, Leon, could reclaim his rightful place.

Anyone who threatened Leon could not be allowed to live.

Even if it were Owen’s own child.

Who would become empress?

The entire nation’s attention was fixed on the harem.

No one knew that a woman incapable of bearing children could claim the position at once.

“It’s best to cut the problem at the root.”

“What?”

Distracted by a stain on the document, Byron failed to catch Owen’s words and asked again.

“Tell the chamberlain. I’ll go to the harem tonight.”

The news spread through the palace in an instant.

It would be the emperor’s first step into the harem.

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