The Price of Love Was Only Despair and Hell

Returning to the office, Jenaden immediately summoned his aide, Lenin Dillain, who had worked with him since childhood to overthrow the Duke of Bronar.

“Sarubia said she was alive,” Jenaden announced as soon as he entered.

Lenin’s expression froze. “What? What do you mean…?”

“Elaine Costell,” Jenaden clarified.

Still not comprehending, Lenin blinked.

“She says Elaine isn’t dead. Do you think Sarubia could be lying?” Jenaden asked, frowning as he sat down.

Lenin, sitting across from him, considered the matter carefully before speaking. “Your Majesty, the Costell family was already destroyed by that time. Above all, the Duke of Bronar would never have kept her alive.”

“Yes. The Countess was executed, and the next day, there was a massive fire at the Count’s residence.”

“That’s right, and he…” Lenin trailed off.

The memory of young Jenaden crying in front of the burned-down Costell residence flashed through Lenin’s mind. He remembered how he had restrained Jenaden, who had frantically shouted that Elaine couldn’t have died. That image remained vivid even now.

Jenaden leaned back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

“But, Your Majesty,” Lenin continued, “Her Majesty is not one to lie.”

Jenaden turned his gaze toward Lenin. “She’s not the kind of woman to lie…”

In his memory, Sarubia had always been a woman who tried to please him, never showing signs of pain. She was utterly different from her father, who was consumed by greed.

“I’ll investigate it,” Lenin assured him.

“It’s been a long time, so it might be difficult to find any evidence,” Lenin added, shaking his head slightly. “The Duke of Bronar must have already removed all traces.”

Thinking of the despicable Duke made Lenin shudder in disgust.

“Find out as soon as you can.”

“Yes, sir. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?”

Jenaden hesitated, unsure whether to ask the next question. He couldn’t shake off the thought of Sarubia’s sudden change in demeanor.

“Lenin.”

“Yes?”

“Do you think Sarubia loves me?”

Lenin’s expression turned incredulous, as if Jenaden had just said something absurd.

“Everyone in the palace would say she loves you,” Lenin replied confidently.

“Actually, there’s something I haven’t told you…”

“What else happened, Your Majesty?”

“Sarubia suggested we bring down the Duke of Bronar together. Then she asked for a divorce.”

“What?!” Lenin’s documents fell to the floor.

“She even told me to remarry.”

“No way, Your Majesty…?”

Jenaden nodded grimly. He couldn’t forget the icy smile Sarubia had given him when she asked if he loved her.

He had never seen such a frigid expression from her before.

“I knew I was only pretending to love her, but she didn’t even get angry. She even calmly suggested we take down the Duke of Bronar and divorce afterward.”

“Are you going to accept the offer?”

“Well… I think the Empress is a woman who can confront her family for her own sake”

‘That’s how much she loves you.’

Lenin sighed quietly. He knew it too. That Sarubia could be a decent empress if she wasn’t the daughter of the Duke of Bronar.

However, as long as she is his daughter, she has no choice but to be their enemy. Lenin was guilty of cheating on her, but Jenaden was more important than that, so he had to turn a blind eye.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to accept the offer.”

“You’re going to divorce?” 

“If the Duke of Bronar falls, she won’t be able to continue as Empress anyway.”

“In many ways, it’s a good deal for you, Your Majesty.”

“That’s true,” Jenaden admitted. However, Sarubia’s offer of divorce still lingered in his thoughts. 

It was a strange and unsettling feeling.

***

In her childhood, Sarubia had once tearfully asked her cold-hearted mother why she didn’t love her.

Her mother had sneered and looked at Sarubia with disdain.

“Do you really think you’re our child?”

Sarubia, her big eyes filled with tears, froze at the words.

“Mother…”

“We never had children. We needed a child to send to the Imperial Palace. That’s when you came into our family.”

It was the first time Sarubia had heard such a revelation. Shocked, she reached out with her small hand to grab the Duchess’s skirt but stopped.

“Sarubia, how could we ever care for someone who doesn’t even know the basics?”

“Is it because I’m not your real daughter?” Sarubia asked through her tears. “Is that why you don’t love me?”

Her mother sighed, visibly irritated by the question. “Yes. Just grow up to be a proper Bronar and become the Empress, as your father wishes.”

That was her role.

Without another word, her mother turned coldly and left the room.

Since that day, Sarubia had never complained to anyone. She simply obeyed every order with a smile.

She has lived like that.

***

“I had a bad dream,” Sarubia muttered, sighing as she slowly got out of bed.

After their tea time, Jenaden had been preoccupied with administrative matters and hadn’t met with her since.

“When will I get an answer?”

The haunting memory resurfaced, making her uneasy.

What if she was discarded once again?

She immediately sat at her desk and began writing down familiar names with a quill pen.

“Asta!”

“Yes!”

At Sarubia’s call, Asta opened the door and entered. Sarubia handed her the paper with a smile.

“What is this?”

“Please deliver these letters to the Countesses and Marquises listed. I’m inviting them to a tea party.”

Asta’s eyes widened in surprise as she read the names.

The women on the list were wives of nobles opposed to Sarubia’s father. It was only natural for Asta to be shocked.

The Scarecrow Empress.

Before returning, Sarubia had once been mocked as the “Scarecrow Empress”, it was a word that people used to refer to her secretly. A figurehead who never interacted with aristocratic women or hosted social gatherings. 

She was just a doll-like person who had simply waited quietly in her room for Jenaden, thinking it was better that way because no one told her anything.

But now, things are different. It was time for her to act.

“Please deliver them well.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

***

A few days later, Sarubia’s tea party was held in the Imperial Palace’s outer garden.

She greeted the gathered ladies with a bright, welcoming smile. Although they initially seemed wary, they soon mirrored her expression.

“This is a flower tea made of marigold that grows from the western forests. It has a delightful aroma,” Sarubia said, lifting her cup to take a sip.

The noblewomen, who had been eyeing the tea suspiciously, followed her lead after seeing her drink first. Sarubia knew they feared she might have poisoned the tea and had intentionally sipped first to ease their worries.

The tea party was a success. Sarubia engaged in conversation and laughed with the ladies, gradually breaking down their defenses.

Sarubia, who glanced at them, could feel that the vigilance of the ladies attending the party had been broken.

Her elegant demeanor and gentle smile made a strong impression on the aristocrats.

“Come to think of it, His Majesty’s birthday is approaching,” Countess Renele remarked.

On the Emperor’s birthday, the palace traditionally held a grand ball where almost all families were invited to present extravagant gifts and offered them to the emperor at the end of the ball.

Sarubia’s heart clenched at the memory.

‘His Majesty and I have always celebrated his birthday together.’

Clink!

Sarubia’s teacup hit the stand with a sharp sound.

“Your Majesty the Empress?”

Sarubia snapped back to reality, noticing everyone’s concerned gazes.

“Oh, I was just thinking about a gift for His Majesty.” 

She quickly hid her expression and smiled.

“May I ask what kind of gift you are preparing?” Countess Renele asked curiously.

Sarubia smiled slyly, placing a finger to her lips. “It’s a secret.”

The ladies burst into laughter at her playful gesture.

***

Later, Sarubia slumped onto the sofa in the parlor next to her bedroom, exhausted.

“You did wonderfully, Your Majesty,” Stella praised, offering her a warm towel.

Sarubia allowed Stella to massage her hand, sighing. In the meantime he chatted and praised her.

“It’s hard to have a tea party too.”

Keeping a smile throughout the tea party had left her face sore. She needed a break now.

“Stella, I’m going to rest now. You may go.”

After Stella left, Sarubia leaned against the sofa, staring at the ceiling. The sunlight streaming through the window and the faint chirping of birds felt distant from her troubled thoughts.

‘It’s His Majesty’s birthday soon.’

The words from the tea party suddenly came to mind.

‘Jenaden’s birthday…’

Her gaze shifted to the drawer on one side of the room.

She had always given Jenaden embroidered handkerchiefs or expensive jewelry, hoping for his safety and love. His bright smile upon receiving her gifts had once made her heart soar.

“How foolish I was.”

Sarubia stood and opened the drawer, pulling out a neatly folded handkerchief.

Sarubia looked at the handkerchief she had pulled out without saying a word.

A dimorphoteca flower was embroidered at its center, symbolizing eternal love. Sarubia had once dreamt of sharing that eternal love with Jenaden.

But now, it was just a bitter reminder of a foolish dream.

“Your Majesty!”

Stella’s voice came from outside the door.

The door burst open, and Jenaden entered with a frown.

Sarubia met his gaze, with a cold and stiff face.