TTEWD 12

Episode 12: “I Won’t Forgive Anyone Touching My Body.”

I wanted to protest, but I had no choice but to remain silent.

It was strange that Clifford had stayed still even after the invitations for Enric’s party were distributed.

*“So he was scheming behind the scenes. That’s why the talk of breaking off relations disappeared, and why the demanded amount was reduced to 500,000 gold…”*

*“As the Empress of Anhel, as Clifford’s wife… is true freedom even possible? Should I look for another way?”*

Without missing a beat, Gillian sneered.

“Hehe. Seems you didn’t realize.”

“…….”

“Men are always like that. If something better than themselves is beside their woman, they naturally get sulky.”

Gillian cast a dirty look toward Enric.

Another strong gust of wind blew, and a rose petal fell onto Gillian’s head.

“Enric. Remove what’s on His Highness, the Prince.”

“Understood.”

With a composed reply, Enric lunged toward Gillian.

His movements were so fast that all she could barely notice was a black shadow flitting past.

“Ahh!”

Gillian screamed, and simultaneously, the rose was sliced into hundreds of pieces swirling in the air.

She hadn’t seen Enric draw or sheath his sword.

It was impossible to guess how he had cut the rose in such a short time.

Gillian turned pale as she looked at the remnants of the flowers at her feet.

She seemed to have realized too late that her head could have ended up rolling across the floor.

“W-What kind of threat is this, Empress?! Are you saying you’ll wage war against Autonia?!”

Gillian shouted furiously. If it had been my old self, I would have endured any humiliation.

*‘I would have ignored my own feelings to avoid being nitpicked for the Empire. But what do I gain by catering to Gillian? After all the sacrifices I’ve made, what’s left for me?’*

“These may look like ordinary roses, but the ones in my garden are poisonous.”

I spoke indifferently, staring at the petals scattered on the floor.

Gillian glared at me, utterly dumbfounded.

“Poison… poisonous roses?”

“I only safely removed them. I couldn’t just let the Prince get poisoned, could I?”

“Are you expecting me to believe that?!”

“If you don’t, what can I do? Surely you’re not planning to wage war against Anhel?”

My deep violet eyes pierced Gillian.

Her face flushed with embarrassment as my words were returned to her.

“The Empress must foresee the future for me!”

“I refuse.”

“You’ve already completed the deal with His Majesty the Emperor!”

“You made a deal with the wrong person. If you wanted to use my abilities, you should have negotiated with me.”

I shook my head as if pitying her. Gillian, who was dumbfounded and just opening her mouth, shouted.

Her carefully calculated smile had completely collapsed.

“You’re saying you’ll break your promise to the envoy representing Autonia?”

“It seems His Majesty the Emperor was momentarily mistaken. The Eyes of the Stars are not something that can be lent.”

“You think I’ll just stand by and let this happen?!”

“I will tolerate your disrespectful words only for today. Next time, learn proper etiquette.”

The moment I finished speaking, Enric wheeled me away.

Gillian shouted something, but it was no different from a stray dog’s bark.

*‘A storm will hit Anhel. But I can’t keep taking responsibility. This country has to find a way to survive even without me.’*

I dreamed of freedom, yet at the same time, I hoped that the Anhel Empire would remain strong even without me.

If Anhel were to collapse—if it were a country that would fall just because one Empress was gone—then its fate was simply that.

It was beyond the power of humans. Only now was I ready to accept this obvious truth.

“Enric. What is it?”

“The master’s blanket…”

Enric was carefully inspecting the knee blanket Gillian had dropped. I murmured in a flat voice:

“Throw it away. It’s dirty anyway.”

—

Stella’s fever rose again. Her attending physician and maid, Countess Bauzen, tended to her.

“It seems the incident in the garden caused her stress. She should recover by tomorrow.”

“Does this happen often?”

Enric asked. Countess Bauzen nodded bitterly.

“Countless times.”

“How has someone so fragile survived carrying such heavy responsibilities?”

“She didn’t survive because she was gifted, but because she endured.”

I knew Stella’s stamina was weak compared to her strong will. But I hadn’t expected her to collapse so easily.

Stella was both the strongest and the most fragile person Enric had ever met.

*‘If only I had killed that Gillian before meeting the master, would none of this have happened?’*

Guilt for failing to protect her master flooded me. Seeing Stella pale and sweating coldly, my heart felt as if it were being ripped apart.

Even when priests salted and branded wounds, it wasn’t as painful. Stella was more than a master to Enric—she was his everything.

Without her, Enric would still be bleeding in the arena, not knowing why he lived.

If Stella hadn’t given him her name, he wouldn’t have minded being called a black worm.

For Enric, who had lived an almost inhuman life, Stella was a beam of light.

—

“The night is deep. You should rest too, Duke Daisher.”

Countess Bauzen said. Enric, who had been glued to Stella’s bedside, lifted his head.

“Would I be disturbing you by helping to treat the master?”

“Not exactly… but…”

“Then I will stay by the master’s side.”

“Have you had water? Food?”

“I’m fine.”

“No one is fine without a proper meal or even a sip of water.”

Countess Bauzen replied coldly. Of course, not dying didn’t mean he didn’t feel thirst or hunger. But he couldn’t eat peacefully while Stella lay there.

“I’ll eat when the master wakes up.”

“Are you protesting to me now?”

Countess Bauzen asked unexpectedly. Enric replied as politely as possible.

He didn’t want to cause trouble with his master’s maid while Stella had collapsed.

“Countess, did I make a mistake?”

Countess Bauzen muttered with a complicated expression.

“I hated Duke Daisher, just like other nobles respected Her Majesty the Empress.”

“…….”

“I was certain that a lowly man had ensnared Her Majesty.”

Enric remained silent. He understood her true feelings. She had always glared at him with a fearsome look whenever they met.

*‘It doesn’t matter as long as I can stay by the master’s side.’*

There were countless others who hated Enric, not just Countess Bauzen.

They would admire his handsome appearance, then condemn him for being a filthy slave’s son.

The knights’ jealousy and hatred toward Enric were unmatched.

He often received duel challenges that he couldn’t even report to Stella in time.

Even after defeating them decisively, they would mock him: “A noble thanks to a talented lower-born.”

He ignored them. Their opinions meant nothing to him, so they were irrelevant.

In fact, he was used to it. Since being abandoned by his mother, Enric had never been welcomed by anyone.

He had never experienced kindness or warmth.

Priests, slave traders alike were awed and fearful of his body.

They didn’t hide their disgust and fear. It would have been more awkward if the palace had welcomed him.

—

“Losing memory as a gladiator slave is absurd. If you were a spy from the Colonatus Empire, His Majesty would be irreparably harmed.”

“I understand your concern, Countess.”

“I observed you carefully. If you were truly as low as the rumors said, I would have eliminated you with poison.”

“You were going to kill me?”

“And take my own life afterward to pay for it.”

For someone of her age, her words were shockingly blunt. Enric, whose body couldn’t die from poison, was intrigued by her.

It was satisfying to know someone cared for Stella enough to risk their life.

“But I witnessed your loyalty with my own eyes. Though brief, you were sincere toward His Majesty.”

“…….”

“I don’t want to admit it. I still dislike you, of course. But my judgment of people never fails.”

“…Is that so?”

“When you’re with him, His Majesty looks more at ease than ever. As if a heavy burden had been lifted.”

Countess Bauzen’s wrinkled eyes shot Enric a sharp glare. A low-born stranger had accomplished what even a long-serving confidant could not.

Despite her blatant jealousy, Enric’s face brightened.

“Is that really true?”

“What?”

“Does the master truly feel at ease with me?”

“Why ask something so obvious? Even after all insults, she favors you enough to make you her consort.”

Enric didn’t respond. Even Stella’s closest attendants had no doubt he was the Empress’s lover.

*‘And yet, I haven’t even touched her once.’*

A hot, heavy feeling surged deep inside him.

How much had he longed to touch Stella’s translucent milky cheeks?

To soothe her bruised hands?

Once, he had tried to help Stella from her bed to the wheelchair.

She had warned him coldly:

**“I won’t forgive anyone touching my body.”**

**“I’m only trying to help you, Master.”**

**“I can manage on my own.”**

**“When did you act like a loving partner?”**

**“Everyone thinks we’re lovers. But the permission I grant is only up to the wheelchair. Cross that line, and I’ll throw you out of the palace.”**

Stella was sharp. She knew that being thrown out would be the greatest threat to Enric.

*‘Is it unpleasant to touch me because I’m a former slave?*’

Even knowing Stella didn’t discriminate by status, an uneasy feeling rose uncontrollably. Every time she said *“I can manage on my own”*, it felt like a hole was punched through his chest.

*‘She’s saying I’m unnecessary.’*

*‘What if I had truly been her consort… if we had genuinely loved each other…’*

Every time such thoughts arose, Enric shook his head violently. It was selfish, ridiculous desire.

Stella was too noble for someone like him to touch. Even ignoring her title as Empress.

Platinum hair glimmering like stars. Mysterious violet eyes like translucent grapes.

Delicate features, as if sculpted by a god’s hand. Even in a wheelchair, her posture and gestures exuded grace. Stella was more elegant and lovely than any woman.

*‘Even just being her fake consort is more than enough. I can stand by her bed, walk with her alone in the garden.’*

Moreover, she had allowed him to handle the wheelchair for the first time, something no one else could.

That should have been enough… yet whenever someone like Countess Bauzen believed he was the Empress’s man, desire surged.

“So, you mean I don’t have to stick to the bedside like a guard?”

“It’s not a protest or a punishment. I want to stay by Her Majesty’s side. If I don’t interfere, please pretend not to see me.”

“How can I ignore a man as conspicuous as you?”

Countess Bauzen asked, looking utterly bewildered.