That cannot be possible.
The Emperor smiled bitterly and shook his head. No matter how exhausting recent events had been, how could he have dared to look upon Princess Madeleine and think of her?
They only share those green eyes. Nothing more.
The Emperor understood his own heart with painful clarity. His longing was directed solely toward that Princess—and there had never been any need for a substitute. If a replacement had truly been necessary, he would have brought someone resembling her into the imperial palace long ago.
If it had not been for the previous Grand Duke Vikander... he would have claimed the real Princess for himself.
"By the way, Your Majesty... it would be lovely to view the tributes presented by the delegation tomorrow..."
The Empress, who had been speaking with practiced elegance beside him, faltered mid-sentence. The Emperor—who had been engaged in conversation just moments ago—now sat in contemplative silence, his gaze fixed on a single point.
Without revealing her curiosity, the Empress traced the direction of his stare.
And the moment she realized Olivia stood at its end, her eyes widened with barely concealed alarm.
That cannot be possible.
The corners of her beautifully painted mouth twitched as though seized by a spasm. Her fingers curled against the armrest of the throne, nails digging into the gilded wood.
For the briefest instant, the face of the woman in that portrait had superimposed itself over Olivia's features. A gorgeous golden-haired woman—and yet it had never once occurred to the Empress that the portrait bore any resemblance to Olivia Madeleine.
Why now? When the Grand Duchess visited the palace in the past, had the Empress not noticed those cool green eyes?
The Grand Duchess had been a proud and arrogant woman—one who refused to lower her head even in the Empress's presence. Looking now upon Olivia's serene green gaze, the Empress struggled to calm her racing heart.
Yet she knew all too well how affectionately the Emperor had once looked upon that woman. If the Empress had noticed this resemblance... then surely the Emperor had as well—
"Empress."
The Empress's heart plummeted at the Emperor's soft summons.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"The Duke of Madeleine intends to discipline the Princess properly during this banquet. The Empress should also speak with the Crown Prince—ensure that the Princess returns to her rightful place with all due haste."
Only after hearing those simple words—spoken as though he harbored not a single lingering sentiment—did the Empress silently release the breath she had been holding.
Fortunately... it was not as dire as she had feared.
Upon reflection, if Olivia truly resembled the previous Grand Duchess, it made no sense for the current Grand Duke to propose to her. How could he possibly love someone who reminded him of his own mother?
This was no ordinary person—especially if that mother had been taken to the imperial palace and met her miserable end here.
The Grand Duke must have appallingly poor taste if he sought to compensate for the tragedies of his childhood through Olivia—a woman seemingly trapped in circumstances similar to his mother's.
Then how should one interpret his rejection of their precious daughter, the Princess, in favor of accepting this half-blood as his fiancée?
It could only be a pitiful echo of his mother's memory... or else a blessing descended from his ancestors...!
As her imagination spiraled into increasingly wild speculation, the Empress's eyes gradually sharpened with irritation.
Incredulous though it seemed, the Empress found herself convinced she had arrived at the correct answer. With each slow blink of her long lashes, her suspicions crystallized into certainty.
Soon, her beautiful crimson eyes sparkled with renewed interest. Her red lips curled with the faintest hint of a sneer.
A pity that this delightful theory remains mere hypothesis. Still... the Empress was more than capable of presenting conjecture as established fact.
"I must speak with the Princess."
But first—the Emperor's gaze upon Olivia had been most unusual.
The Empress smiled coquettishly, concealing her exhilaration as she brushed her fingers along the Emperor's arm. When his cool eyes turned to meet hers, she gestured toward her attendant with practiced grace.
Moments later, a glass of deep purple wine was placed before her. The Empress lifted it elegantly and whispered with honeyed sweetness.
"...Let us invite the Princess later and enjoy the banquet first, Your Majesty. You have always devoted yourself to the prosperity and wellbeing of the Empire—surely it would not be unreasonable to wish for your own happiness, even for just one night? The Princess, as our gracious hostess, is managing everything splendidly. And if all goes well, we shall soon have a reliable Crown Prince. Share this joy with me, my love."
The Emperor's brow gradually relaxed at her pleasant flattery. Soon, he drained the wine in a single draught.
It was his favorite—the strongest drink available.
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