The coldness from the wrist he had grabbed spread like frost through every cell in my body, every cell of my mind, freezing blank any trails of thoughts.
Like a small creature before a great predator, I could only tremble in silence.
“Did you know? A blessing can sometimes turn into a curse.”
His slow voice coiled around my body like a noose. His black eyes, staring straight into mine, pierced through me with no room to hide or breathe.
“The son’s suffering for the crimes of the father. Emperor Khainon is so pitiful.”
Those wild rumors about him, I finally understand behind its words:
A “damaged-emperor”,
An emperor no one would spare a glance with, after losing one of his ‘purpose’.
His presence alone, which silenced this vast banquet hall, was overwhelmingly absolute. He wore the face of a man who knew exactly what he had to be, to whom, and when.
“What curse have you placed in it?”
Who would dare curse such a man—someone who instills fear with just a gaze, who strangles breath with a single gesture… a true “emperor” in every sense.
That single word alone, “curse” had dominated the whole room, bending the atmosphere to his will and crushed me under this suffocated air.
Behind the Emperor loomed a golden eagle, wrought in exquisite metal and menace, its unblinking eyes glaring down at me like a predator poised to strike.
“…I didn’t put a curse, I put a bless—”
“I asked what curse you placed in it.”
The words I barely managed to speak were sliced apart like a blade cut it.
I couldn’t comprehend. Why was he showing such hostility?
Because a mere dancer gifted him a flower?
Because a lowly commoner was bold to bless the emperor?
I shook my head weakly, trying to hold my fading consciousness. That’s not what I meant. That’s not what it was. My true intention was…
“If it’s a curse, I’ll fall to my knees and confess my sin, but… as it is a blessing, I cannot say.”
A strained voice flew out from my tightly constricted throat. The Emperor, however, coldly sneered.
“Right. They say if you reveal the blessing before the flower withers, it loses its effect…”
“…But being fooled by such childish superstition once is enough for me.”
Despite in despair, some things were clear.
He already knew about Perial’s old traditions.
But to him, they were nothing but feeble excuses. A very unpleasant memory that tied to this flower.
I looked up at him, desperation tightening my chest. To meet his gaze was a breach of every rule, but it might be my only chance.
“As Your Majesty aware, the flower wilts once the blessing reaches its intended target. If you wait until then—”
“Why should I waste my time on such a pathetic flower?”
Something had gone terribly wrong. That wasn’t a mere dismissal. It was a scornful, deliberate rejection.
What kind of bitter ties did he have with the Perial flower?
“I don’t like trouble. I want the answer now.”
And something happened in a flash. The Emperor drew a sword from a guard’s belt and pointed it at me.
A cool surface grazed the side of my neck. The Grand Hall froze once more, the silence intensified more heavy. No one dared to breathe.
“I’ll ask again. What curse have you placed in the flower?”
His gaze, sharper than the honed sword, allowed no error.
What kind of answer could save my life?
Those jet-black eyes held nothing but impenetrable darkness. Still, there were no excuses I could offer him, nor was I willing to try.
Without avoiding his gaze, I slowly moved my dry lips. With a ragged breath, the same words were whispered.
“Because it is a blessing… Because I wished for the blessing to reach Your Majesty… I cannot say.”
It was the truth, it was sincere, not even a hint of a lie. That had always been my true intent from the beginning.
“I will accept the punishment for disobeying the emperor’s command.” As I bowed my head in resignation, I could feel the edge of the blade deepen into my skin. Something warm trickled down my neck, and my father’s face flashed before my eyes.
Did I imagine things?
In that fleeting moment, the Emperor’s eyes softened, if only slightly.
Or was it merely my wish?
“What is your name?” At last, the Emperor’s tightly-closed lips parted.
“…Len.”
Still sharp as a blade, his gaze remained unyielding.
Was it enough that I’d told him my name? As I lowered my trembling eyelids, a tide of self-mocking thoughts began to swirl—
“I will trust your sincerity.”
The sword, drawn as swiftly as it had been raised, was flung aside. The sharp clang shattered the suffocating silence and I gasped for air as if finally breaking the surface after drowning in a deep ocean.
“You may go.”
Through my blurred vision, I saw crimson blood staining my lavender veil. Too dizzy and weak, I had no power to rise. Then someone rushed forward and embraced me into their arms—this familiar warmth… Sylvia. She must’ve sprinted from below the stage. Her frantic breaths and barely restrained sobs shook her small frame against mine.
As we staggered away, I saw the faces of our troupe members waiting anxiously nearby.
I gathered my last energy to raise my pale hand and wiped the blood from my neck. Slowly, I cast my gaze back toward the throne as it slipped further from sight.
A place too lofty to approach, where the Emperor Khainon ruled with the world in his palm.
On the way back, Sylvia couldn’t stop crying. She sobbed like a child and paid no heed to her carefully applied makeup being ruined.
“If you’d died like that… hic… how am I going to live…?”
“Stop crying. I’m alive and well, aren’t I?”
“He’s awful! The Emperor is awful! Making a fuss over a single flower!!”
After crying her heart out loud, Sylvia suddenly nuzzled her wet cheeks into my arms. Without a word, I hugged her quivering shoulders in return.
I arrived at the quiet village outskirts late at night. In the distance, one familiar house still had its lantern lit.
Creaaak.
As the door opened with a low squeak, the first thing I saw was a familiar back.
I quietly walked toward the man reading a book on the chair. Leaning down, I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“You’re back?” His calming and gentle voice almost brought me to tears. However, his familiar scent slowly eased my tension. I pressed my face into his clothes and closed my eyes.
“Len? What’s wrong? Did something happen?” He sensed it immediately and tried to see my face, but I clutched harder around his neck. I pressed down my whine, afraid of getting caught, but my hoarse voice gave me away.
“I’m hungry.”
“Did you skip meals again?”
“Mhm. I didn’t eat all day.”
“I’ll fix something right away. There’s still soup left from this morning.” But his body didn’t budge an inch, restrained by my grip. In return, he firmly grasped my wrist. The warmth of his touch made tears threaten to fall.
“Father.”
“Yes?”
“The Emperor… He’s a good person, right?”
My father’s hand, which had been stroking mine, paused.
“He sends gifts every year to kids like me who don’t have moms, and he shares food too…”
“…”
“So he must be… a good person… right?”
I choked, my throat swelled as I stared at the burned mark on the nape of my father’s neck with tear-filled eyes.
Just like that persistent, awful mark, some questions carved into my heart remained unanswered: How did father get that mark? Why doesn’t he want me to go to the capital? Why doesn’t he tell me everything? Am I truly unworthy of giving blessings? Am I just… a cursed existence? Just like how I took my mother’s life the moment I was born…?
“Father, I…” Yet those words, those questions, at the tip of my tongue, bitter like medicine, were swallowed down. “…I’ll have the soup. But if it’s bland again, I won’t hesitate to throw it out.”
And as always, father went along with my act. His quiet, tender laugh rumbled softly against my back.
“Just don’t throw me out.”
“Hmm, I’ll think about it.”
It was a silly, old game between me and my father.
Life returned to normal after the banquet.
If one thing had changed, after our troupe’s performance at the imperial banquet, requests poured in. We were now busier than ever.
Truth to be told, the performances were just an excuse. What everyone really wanted was to see her. The dancer at the center of that incident.
It wasn’t a surprise, after all, nobles from prestigious families and provincial lords were all gathered that night. It was only a matter of time news spread quickly.
I could only hope it didn’t reach my father’s ears.
“Len, did you know? Gifting a Perial flower is trending in the capital now.”
“I know. You’ve told me at least thirty times.”
“Also, people are calling you ‘The Woman Wreathed in Flower and Blade’ Oh! So romantic…”
Sylvia who just a month ago had cried like a child, saying she couldn’t live without me, now clapped in joy, thrilled by the rise in performance offers.
On top of that…
“A dancer who stayed true to her beliefs before the emperor’s sword! And that belief was a blessing for none other than the emperor himself!”
She, Sylvia, was already gathering the troupe for a passionate meeting about turning it into a new performance piece.
Well, as long as she’s happy, I don’t really mind.
I left the excited Sylvia behind and went back to mopping the floor. Suddenly, one of the younger dancers rushed up, breathless.
“What’s wrong?”
“Sis Len, outside…” Her tiny finger pointed toward a stranger.
Well-dressed and standing by an elegant carriage, his appearance screamed he was, indeed, a noble. I straightened my clothes and went to greet him.
“Are you Len who leads this troupe?” He asked after I bowed.
“What brings you here, sir?”
He had sharp eyes, giving off an intellectual air. His lips parted again.
“My name is Ridro. I am the head chamberlain serving His Majesty the Emperor.”
My hand tightened around my skirt. The Emperor’s right hand… had come for me?
It felt as though that sharp blade was once again at my neck. The wound that had healed now ached anew. Suppressing my rising fear, I asked calmly, “What brings the chamberlain to such a humble place?”
“I’ve come to deliver a decree from His Majesty.”
He presented a scroll wrapped in crimson velvet from his robe. Hesitantly, I reached out and accepted it.
At the bottom of the scroll, the Emperor’s seal glistened, like a stamp made of blood.
“His Majesty wishes to place your troupe under the direct patronage of the Imperial Household.”
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