5. The Meaning of the Nightgown
“This, this is…”
What Rasilia had picked out—ironically—was a nightgown.
It was an extravagant one, specially made for the wedding night. But to Rasilia, unfamiliar with Elia Arden’s customs, it just seemed slightly more comfortable than a normal dress.
Of course, that nightgown had never actually been worn.
The Empress and Emperor had never once shared a bed. The nightgown, made with care for their first night, had remained unworn and hung neatly on its hanger ever since.
“Y-you’re really choosing this?”
The maids exchanged frantic glances.
Unfortunately, Rasilia missed the exchange, too focused on inspecting her chosen garment.
“Yes. I like this one the most.”
“T-then… if that’s your choice…”
It was an obvious answer, but even the maids didn’t truly believe in the Empress’s amnesia.
They, more than anyone, knew that all the illnesses the Empress had previously claimed were fabricated. They were just playing along to survive.
They never suspected for a moment that the Empress couldn’t recognize a nightgown due to memory loss.
“As you wish, Your Majesty. We will prepare you according to your choice. Please, sit here.”
“Alright.”
Rasilia sat at the vanity, where the maids had gestured.
Following a series of silent cues, the palace attendants began brushing her hair.
Since she was only wearing a nightgown, there was no need for heavy makeup or intricate braiding.
They carefully brushed her long hair, loosely tied half of it back, and fastened it with a jeweled pin.
“Is everything to your satisfaction, Your Majesty?”
Once they stepped back, the Marchioness of Fashard approached the vanity and asked politely.
There was no fault to be found.
The dress, a soft peach-colored silk embroidered with shimmering silver threads, looked far more beautiful worn than on the hanger.
For Rasilia—who had only ever worn prophet’s robes—just the feel of silk brushing against her skin was a luxury.
“Am I… maybe too dressed up?”
Rasilia murmured without realizing it.
“But Your Majesty is beautiful in anything.”
The Marchioness’s comment brought a flush to Rasilia’s cheeks.
She had just mumbled about how she looked in the mirror—she probably seemed like someone complimenting her own reflection.
That was meant for the Empress, though…
Oddly enough, she didn’t feel an overwhelming sense of disconnect from the beautiful face in the mirror.
Maybe it was the hairstyle. Rasilia also had long, black hair like the Empress. Her face may not have been as beautiful, but everything else felt… vaguely similar.
She didn’t feel taller or shorter, nor did her build seem drastically different.
I wish I looked sick enough to inspire sympathy… but this is probably the best I can do with this face. And this is the plainest dress among them.
Rasilia nodded toward the Marchioness.
“This will do. Thank you for your work.”
“Y-Your Majesty…!”
The maids and attendants widened their eyes in surprise.
Had things been normal, Rasilia herself might have found their reaction odd.
Coo, coo! Squawk! Caw!
But something abnormal happened.
Birds outside the window erupted in a noisy uproar.
“What’s going on?”
She caught a glimpse of feathers that looked suspiciously like the talking birds from that morning.
Rasilia jumped up and headed to the window.
The maids, stunned to see the Empress approaching a window fully dressed, could only gape in silence.
Clack, creeeeak!
Rasilia opened the window.
What she saw was… quite strange.
“Ugh, these crazy birds! Get off me!”
Perched precariously on the narrow window ledge was someone being attacked by birds.
It was one of the Emperor’s knights she had seen earlier.
“Stop it.”
Rasilia instinctively intervened, afraid they might fall.
The words slipped out naturally before she had time to think, and surprisingly, the birds stopped as if they had understood her.
“…My, thank you, Your Majesty. I didn’t expect such mercy.”
Now that she could see clearly, the knight—with short, reddish-blonde hair cut above the ears—was a striking beauty.
During the day, the Emperor’s absurdly handsome face had overshadowed hers.
But regardless of her looks, seeing someone outside her window was not a pleasant experience.
“So… you had business with my room?”
The knight—Riyan, she believed—wiped away the awkwardness with a smile.
“And I didn’t expect to be caught like this. Who could’ve predicted the birds would start screaming? Tch, this was supposed to be secret.”
“…”
Her pleasant smile couldn’t mask the chilling implications.
She was spying on me… To find out if the memory loss is real or not.
Rasilia composed herself.
I can’t let my guard down, even for a second.
As if sensing her resolve, the birds glared at Riyan with sharp, pointed eyes, ready to strike again.
“It’s not the birds that are crazy—what’s crazy is someone being somewhere they shouldn’t be.”
“Hmm… Well, I suppose you’re right. So what would you like to do now?”
Riyan’s smile faded slightly.
“I’ll accept punishment if it’s within reason. I admit it was my mistake to get caught.”
Rasilia’s expression hardened too.
For someone caught spying, she was incredibly brazen. She didn’t think the act was wrong—only getting caught was.
“So you’re saying you’ve done nothing wrong?”
“Now, that’s not fair. You didn’t seriously think there would be no eyes watching over the Empress’s palace, did you? But I swear on my sword—it’s nothing compared to how closely His Majesty watches over you.”
“…”
If that were true, it meant the Emperor and Empress constantly monitored each other.
Why? If they distrust each other that much, why even get married?
The more she learned, the stranger it all seemed.
“But may I ask something?”
Riyan gestured to Rasilia’s outfit.
“I heard you changed for tonight’s meeting… and you’re going to wear that?”
“And why are you so interested in my attire? Is that also part of a royal guard’s duty?”
“No, that’s not what I meant…”
Riyan hesitated mid-sentence.
“…I was just wondering what made you change your mind.”
“Change my mind?”
“Isn’t this your way of allowing contact again? What made you suddenly change?”
“Contact…?”
Rasilia couldn’t understand what she was talking about.
“What does that even mean?”
“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you forgot about that too.”
“As I said—I lost my memory. I remember nothing.”
“Hmm…”
Riyan studied Rasilia’s face as if trying to pierce through her soul.
Then suddenly, she smirked.
“Well, that’s not such a bad thing. Especially since His Majesty seems to be changing, too.”
Riyan leaned close, lips brushing Rasilia’s ear, and whispered:
“Listen closely, Your Majesty. Whatever the reason, if you’ve truly had a change of heart, I welcome it. I’ll forget all that’s happened so far—just start doing your part from now on.”
What followed, too quiet for anyone else to hear, was a clear threat:
“But if this is just another performance… I swear on my blade—you will pay for it.”
Having said her piece, Riyan quickly pulled away.
“Then I’ll be off.”
Whish—tap!
Riyan leapt down, using the terrace railing below as a springboard to disappear out of sight.
Too swift for Rasilia to respond.
“Bad person! Bad person!”
“Punish! Punish!”
The birds could act, though. Reading the displeasure on Rasilia’s face, they chased after Riyan.
“Aaagh! You crazy birds! Cut it out!”
With both hands clinging to the rail, Riyan was defenseless. The birds pecked furiously, turning her sleek hair into a tangled mess.
“…”
Rasilia finally turned away from the window.
This place was truly strange.
Not only did the birds talk, but they were firmly on her side.
No—on the Empress’s side. Were these birds hers all along?
The mysteries kept piling up.
But what troubled Rasilia the most… was that word: contact.
“Your Majesty, are you alright?”
The Marchioness of Fashard asked cautiously.
“Shall I bring you some tea? Or call for a musician, or a poet—”
“No, that’s fine. But I do want to ask you something.”
“Anything, Your Majesty.”
Rasilia, looking at the politely bowing Marchioness, asked:
“What does ‘contact’ even mean?”
* * *
“Unbelievable news!”
Riyan burst into the Emperor’s office, flushed with excitement. As always, she came through the window—not the door.
According to her, it was faster that way.
“Shh, His Majesty is still resting.”
“He’s recovering! He won’t wake up from some noise. No, did you not hear me? I said I have amazing news.”
She grabbed Serven’s shoulders as soon as she shut the window. Seeing his twin sister so excited made Serven nervous too.
With that face, it couldn’t be bad news. Maybe they had proof the Empress was real after all.
“What is it? Tell me!”
“For tonight’s dinner, the Empress changed clothes. Guess what she picked!”
“Ugh, don’t make me guess. You know I’m bad at that.”
“A nightgown.”
Riyan had wanted to tease him longer, but the words came tumbling out.
“A nightgown? She was already wearing one during the day—”
“No, not just any nightgown—the one made for her wedding night!”
“Wh—what?”
Serven blinked in shock.
“That means…”
A voice spoke from behind them.
“…she intends to share my bed?”
It was Rescal.
“Your Majesty!”
He was sitting up on the sofa, eyes now open, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“I’m looking forward to tonight.”
