Chapter 2: The Gilded Cage

Could the very moment of my birth have been a sin?

Her sky-blue eyes, heavy with regret, stared blankly out the window.

Beyond, the curtain of night had fallen, and countless stars glittered brilliantly, each vying to outshine the others.

Selonia inhaled the chilling air deeply into her lungs, trying to quell the rising tide of anxiety.

Believing herself an unwelcome presence, she had striven to live harder, even imagining a time when, after much struggle, she might finally grasp happiness.

Now, however, it all felt like a cruel delusion. Looking back, her life had been akin to walking barefoot on thin glass, supported only by a fragile thread.

That very glass now lay shattered, its sharp shards pointing menacingly at her.

The moonlight, having seeped in unnoticed, cast a faint glow upon the bedroom of Bellua Palace.

Embroideries adorned every wall, the floor gleamed with polished marble, and the bed itself seemed vast enough for three or four people.

Though outwardly a place of unparalleled luxury, to her, it was nothing more than a gilded cage, a prison reinforced with golden bars.

Although she had lived virtually imprisoned within the palace for the past six years, never had she felt such suffocating confinement as now.

Selonia, lost in thought, drifted toward the mirror and gazed at her own reflection.

Her skin was pristine and translucent, her hair a delicate rose pink, like scattered petals, and her sky-blue eyes evoked an icy lake rather than the sea.

It was a beauty anyone would praise, yet in her own eyes, it appeared starkly different.

Her once voluminous and smooth hair had grown brittle during her confinement, and her gaunt face and lips had, at some point, lost all their color.

Her body, which had begun to deteriorate rapidly, was now so frail that even a short walk left her breathless, making departure from Bellua Palace all but impossible.

She placed a hand upon the mirror, which clearly reflected her image.

Her slender fingers, appearing fragile enough to snap, delicately traced the sharp contours of her face.

The face of a woman struggling in a quagmire no longer bore any resemblance to her former bright and confident self.

The Emperor’s concubine, Selonia.

This was the term used to refer to her in hushed tones.

Though she believed herself simply a woman loved by a man, the world, seeing her as a bastard child from a humble family, dismissed her as merely the Emperor’s mistress or a seductress.

Even under the sting of frigid stares, she had endured six years, sustained solely by her love for Alix.

She had desired neither the empress’s throne nor honor, but only his complete and unwavering affection.

Yet, even that now…

‘Could I truly be certain?’

The words she couldn’t voice escaped her lips as silent air.

While Alix had recently continued to speak tenderly and show affection, his subtle demeanor, as if he weren’t truly listening to her words, felt strangely different from usual.

He had claimed to believe in her innocence and promised to clear her name, yet somehow, the situation didn’t appear so simple.

Confined here, with Alix’s words being her only source of information, she felt stifled by her inability to grasp the true progression of events.

“A witch?”

Her voice, hoarse from a day of silence, trembled with apprehension.

In Ardian, a self-proclaimed Holy Empire, the brand of “witch” was tantamount to a death sentence. Indeed, death might even be preferable.

Those who failed to prove their innocence in a witch trial were often condemned to eternal imprisonment in the Grand Temple’s dungeons, with occasional public burnings in the town square serving as stark examples.

Yet, someone had accused her of being a witch.

They claimed she had used wicked magic to seduce and manipulate Emperor Alix.

Initially, she had scoffed at such absurd allegations, dismissing them as nonsense, but in truth, she was the foolish one.

For some inexplicable reason, the Grand Temple’s sacred relic had reportedly reacted to her blood.

The relic’s reaction was undeniable proof that she was a witch, brimming with magical power.

She refused to believe it, thinking it couldn’t possibly be true, yet a chilling dread settled in a corner of her heart.

She knew almost nothing about her mother, who had been a commoner.

Could her mother truly have been a witch? Or perhaps, had her mother realized then that her newborn daughter was a witch?

Was that why she had abandoned her, still an infant, at the Brienne ducal family’s doorstep, knowing she would be scorned and abused as a bastard?

For a moment, the woman’s face, reflected in the mirror, twisted with sorrow.

Shaking her head to dispel the thoughts, she squeezed her eyes shut and whispered.

“It will be fine. His Majesty said he would handle everything.”

She repeated the words, which she had chanted countless times, as if to console the woman in the mirror.

Yet, it was insufficient to completely banish the profound anxiety filling her ice-like eyes.

Just then, the click of a door opening pierced the silence.

Even in the dim light, lustrous red hair swayed softly with the man’s movements.

It was Alix, her lover and the Emperor of the Empire, the man for whom she had forsaken everything.

“Selie.”

A voice so soft it seemed to carry a gentle breeze reached her ears.

A fleeting hint of color returned to Selonia’s face, which had been so somber.

Despite the anxiety stemming from her inability to truly know his heart, she still loved Alix.

She had sacrificed the coveted position of a palace maid, which she had obtained through arduous effort—as if she had exhausted all her luck—along with the advantageous marriage proposals and honor that would naturally follow.

While some accused her of shamelessly coveting the empress’s throne, she, knowing her humble origins better than anyone, had never aspired to such a position.

She could endure being secretly insulted as nothing more than a concubine.

For Alix’s love, whispered with a gentle voice and a charming smile, had been impossibly sweet.

“Your Majesty…”

Though confined to the detached palace, he visited her almost every day.

Within the imperial palace, no one dared to obstruct the Emperor, unlike perhaps the Grand Temple.

As he approached and caressed her cheek, she instinctively leaned into his touch.

Alix, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips, lowered his head.

Pushing his tongue between her parted lips and swirling it repeatedly, he swiftly lifted Selonia into his arms and moved towards the bed.

With a gentle pressure on her shoulders, Selonia found herself seated on the bed, her face etched with tension as she looked up at him.

Her sky-blue eyes trembled subtly, mirroring the turmoil in her heart.

“What about the trial? Please, let me attend the proceedings. I can prove my innocence myself—”

Before she could finish, his lips covered hers once more.

Instead of answering, he tangled his tongue with hers and lifted her chemise.

His hand, after lingering on her lower abdomen, moved downwards, causing her slender nape, held by his other hand, to twitch.

His rough touch and breath laid bare a raw, untamed desire.

“Your, Majesty… Ugh.”

Gasping for air, she barely managed to utter his title.

In the past, she had found his greedy face, consumed by lust, appealing, as it seemed proof that he desired her beyond measure.

However, even in this situation, she could not bring herself to feel pleasure.

As if her attempts to stop him went unheard, Alix impatiently thrust into her, even though she was not yet ready.

As always, a sharp pain flared, but she lacked the presence of mind to force a smile, as she usually would.

Selonia, her brow furrowed, managed to grab his tensed arm, halting him.

“Haa. What’s wrong, Selonia?”

Alix, exhaling a ragged sigh, spoke as if to placate her.

Perhaps displeased by her apparent rejection, a heavy sigh sounded from above her head.

“You said a witch trial might be held. What happened with it?”

Having rarely ever crossed his mood, her shoulders instinctively hunched.

Yet, this matter was paramount to her.

She had believed Alix, who claimed to trust her innocence, felt the same way…

Unable to control her turbulent emotions, she gazed at him imploringly.

Alix, who had been looking down at her with an unreadable expression, sighed and then ran his hand down her body once more.

As he instinctively cupped the swelling mound above her chemise, a crack appeared in Selonia’s facade of forced composure.

Come to think of it, it had been like this for a while now.

He was always too preoccupied with satisfying his own desires to listen to her words.

When had it started, exactly?

Her tightly bitten lips turned crimson, as if about to bleed.

Her heavy heart felt as if it were plummeting into an abyss.

Perhaps displeased by her stiff, unyielding body, Alix gently pulled her closer, as if to soothe her.

“As it is, your situation is causing me much difficulty. There’s a lot of talk about your staying here being a special privilege.”

“……I can be moved to the dungeon even now.”

It had been Alix who, from the start, had dissuaded her from going to prison, reasoning that her already frail body wouldn’t survive the underground dungeons.

She had gladly accepted his concern for her, but now, she regretted it.

By living in comfort in the detached palace even after being accused of witchcraft, she had inadvertently lent credence to the accusation that she had ensnared the Emperor with wicked magic.

However, Alix firmly shook his head, despite her earnest plea.

“Even so, I cannot place my woman in such a place.”

Her expression softened slightly at his seemingly sweet words.

Was the situation not as dire as she had anticipated?

However, his next words stole Selonia’s breath.

“But things are not progressing as smoothly as I’d hoped. The blood test results are too conclusive, and Grand Duke Lahardian is vehemently advocating for your burning.”