Epilogue: The Story of Shishi — The Decision of the Peony

"The true daughter has returned, so I have decided to vanish as her adopted daughter. Volume One — A Happy Past and the Virgin of the Barrier"

"Volume Two — First Love and the Debutante" Now available at all sites

"The true daughter has returned, so I have decided to vanish as her adopted daughter. Volume Three — A New Family and the Beginning of Tragedy"

Available for pre-release on June 25th via Comic Seemore!

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In the winter when the prince turned three, Kekka was to be married. Her fiancé, wishing to continue working until she bore a child, wrote a note to the royal family agreeing to this arrangement.

These two are quite the outliers among high nobility. Yet it was a relief that Kekka, the one assigned to oversee and tutor the difficult prince, would remain a little longer. Rumors now circulate once more, whispering of an affair, but Kekka’s firm discipline gives me no cause for concern. Indeed, once I understood she was outside the Emperor’s personal inclinations, I found myself able to rely on her with quiet confidence.

After that gathering, I had the Marquis’s household investigated—whether they might bring harm to the imperial family, whether any relatives suffered from illness, and so on.

All criteria were met. Now, I have only to observe their growth, assess their aptitudes, and speak at the proper moment.

One cannot survive within this royal palace, akin to a shrine, without accounting for individual talents and aptitudes. Even I, who possess the strong backing of my family, sometimes find my resolve faltering; thus, a weak heart would surely break under such weight.

Still, out of parental affection, I arranged gatherings—afternoon teas, musical recitals—inviting the Marchioness, seeking reasons to foster the children's acquaintance.

The prince, truly a pupil of Francesca, had grown into a solemn young man, much like his father, the Emperor, yet with a gentleness befitting a woman.

Even so, he looked forward to the opportunity to play with the two young ladies, and they, no doubt, felt the same. Each was aware of the other’s interest, each sensed the regard being bestowed. Naturally, their names were now among those considered as potential brides for the prince.

When the prince reached the age of five, my lord ascended the throne as emperor, and I became empress. At that time, Kekka had left court service and remained in the imperial residence in the capital, devoting herself to raising children and managing the household. She seldom came to court anymore. Sometimes, even when invited for tea, she would decline with a gesture of her sleeve.

Looking back now, she must have been rushing frantically between her domain and the capital, as though trying to make up for lost time.

Beyond a quiet loneliness and a sense of unease, my heart found some comfort in knowing I did not have to fear that she might become the empress, especially when compared to her excellence.

The prince grew older, and at thirteen, he was to formally debut as crown prince, coinciding with the announcement of his betrothal.

The chosen bride was Miss Charlotte, daughter of a marquess.

The noble house of the marquess, while of lesser standing than the ducal family, holds a bloodline too closely related. In contrast, Miss Charlotte of the marquissal house possesses a sufficient measure of holy power, with reports confirming her cheerful disposition and outstanding academic record. Her excellence extends beyond mere scholarly diligence—it includes the subtle grace of social finesse, which is highly desirable. Miss Catherine, on the other hand, while slightly lacking in holy power compared to Miss Charlotte, excels in all academic pursuits and is known for her modest nature. Physically, in appearance, and in spirit, the two are nearly equal in merit. Yet, when choosing a consort for the crown prince, it is only reasonable to select the superior candidate.

I made it a condition, after the selection, that the marquess’s household promise to keep Miss Catherine constantly at Miss Charlotte’s side as her aide.

It was my judgment, guided by instinct, that the marquess’s household would accept. Miss Charlotte seemed to understand, as if she and Spica were bound by some similar bond, though such customs do not exist within the royal family. I had merely arranged it for my own purposes, in anticipation of the future. Yet in noble society, a consort unable to bear heirs is treated with the utmost neglect, and thus the practice of sending close blood relatives as safeguards is, in a way, the nature of nobility.

If a family’s honor is threatened by achievements or renown bestowed upon another house, then one must endure some hardship to protect one’s own lineage.

Thus, Miss Charlotte’s family consented.

With such calculations at play, a reasonably amicable relationship had been maintained between us until the time of her marriage.

That relationship shattered not even a year after her marriage.

Information always reached me, without fail.

Who she met, what she purchased, what she favored and what she rejected—various matters were reported.

Among these, the matter of the heir was naturally the one I watched most closely, as one of the royal family. For the first half-year, I had no intention of speaking, for the bride struggled with the unfamiliar environment.

It was the same for me. Fortunately, I became pregnant within half a year, so I faced little interference…

But it was reported that Lady Charlotte seemed to bear a constant psychological burden from being constantly exposed before others. This was reflected in symptoms such as diminished appetite and repeated nausea.

And most notably, her monthly cycle was irregular.

At first, I had hoped it might be morning sickness—or perhaps pregnancy—but each time I learned it was neither, my heart sank.

It had been little more than a year since her marriage. For half a year now, her monthly cycle had ceased entirely. She had received reports from physicians and priests alike—no medicine, no healing magic, could restore it.

I had not imagined she would be so fragile within.

Still, she carried out her duties as crown princess without fail. Yet to be unable to perform her most essential task… I began to grow anxious. It was then that I remembered: there was still one other suitable candidate.

I ordered my subordinates to investigate, and determined the most promising day. Then I summoned her.

“Miss Catherine, do you understand why you have been called here?”

Before me, she trembled like a wild hare, utterly unaware of the situation she now faced.

“No… Your Majesty the Empress. I do not recall… If it is possible, I would be grateful for an explanation.”

Hiding her tremor, she turned to me, seeking explanation. Very well. As a subject who bears the burden of the realm, I lifted the corner of my mouth and spoke.

“You will lie with Fried in place of Her Highness Charlotte, from this moment forward.”

Her eyes widened, confusion flickering across them. Before she could speak, I pressed on.

“Miss Catherine, you have no choice in this matter. Your answer must be either ‘Yes,’ or ‘I shall fulfill my duty.’ No other response will be accepted.”

Is this how one feels when stared down by a serpent? I have never seen a real snake or a real frog, but I imagine it must be something like this.

Still, she spoke once more in protest.

“Your Majesty, the Empress—please reconsider, I beg you!”

“Miss Catherine, I shall say it only once more. Your answer?”

She must have realized, at last, that resistance beyond this point was impossible from one such as myself, the Empress. She replied, “I shall humbly accept my duties.”

I smiled with quiet satisfaction, and instructed the maids to prepare her, then sent her to the Prince’s chamber.

The next day, my son, the Crown Prince, rebuked me sharply, warning me never to spring such a surprise again. Yet, with word that the matter was settled, my heart was content.

Though I summoned Miss Catherine to share my bed on several more occasions, each time my son’s refusal came through, delivered with quiet firmness. It was regrettable, yes—but soon after, word came that Miss Catherine was with child, and I exhaled in relief.

Catherine’s pregnancy, though not officially announced as that of a secondary consort, was publicly declared as the pregnancy of the Crown Princess. Thus, Charlotte would no longer be whispered of in secret as a barren woman. In the meantime, Charlotte was given time to restore her health, and surely there remained enough grace to consider the matter of two children.

Officially, her morning sickness was severe; physicians forbade her public duties, and so Charlotte was discreetly hidden away in a detached palace.

And the following year, a long-awaited heir was born. Yet after delivering the prince, Catherine, having witnessed his safe arrival, took her own life.

A letter was left behind.

“Father, Mother, Charlotte, Your Highness,

Forgive me for my untimely passing.

Though commanded by Her Majesty the Empress, I beg you not to forgive me for betraying Charlotte.”

At that moment, I entrusted myself to you, Your Highness, my first love. Even if the whispered affection was not meant for me, I still believed, for a single instant, that I had known happiness.

My sin is mine alone. I beg you, grant mercy to the newborn prince, who bears no fault of his own. This child is the fruit of my transgression, ignorant of the guilt that brought him forth. I shall bear the burden of that sin. I implore you—guard this innocent prince, I beg you.

What a terrible waste… A girl still perhaps capable of bearing children chose death for her son.

Princess Charlotte honored her final wish and raised the prince as her own.

Only now, after all this, do I recall Francesca’s confusion.

They became, indeed, the mothers of the same future emperor.

The birth mother, Caterina.

The foster mother, Charlotte.

Both are mothers in equal measure... Truly, Francesca’s intuition was correct. To only realize one’s own folly at such a moment—how absurd it is.

Yet, regardless of how foolish, how laughable, I bore the duty of binding the nation together. That justification, they would never forgive. How could one who cannot even absorb such chaos hope to be empress?

The truth of cause and effect will be made clear in time—though not through empty platitudes.

Since that incident, the relationship between Her Grace Charlotte and myself has become one of opposition.

Whether in state policy or noble factions...

Not long after that event, upon hearing of Charlotte’s pregnancy, I immediately arranged for a niece—of royal blood from a distant realm and connected by kinship—to enter the palace as empress, for the sake of the nation.

It was but one measure among many in addressing the matter of trade with that distant realm—though I suspect it held little pleasure for Her Majesty Charlotte.

Fortunately, she bore a second prince, a first princess, and a second princess after that. Yet she maintained only the most minimal ties with her grandchildren…

It was only when she visited me—her kinswoman and guardian—that she would often bring her grandchildren to see me.

Years later, following the passing of my lord, I abdicated the title of empress and became known as the Empress Dowager.

With that, I relinquished authority over all other institutions to Her Majesty Charlotte, retaining only a few of my own charges.

Now, I possess barely enough strength to maintain the rank of prince for Catherine’s son, who is now the crown prince.

Indeed, the crown prince is a rare figure among recent generations—possessing both an exceptional measure of sacred power and keen intellect, beloved by his people. If this continues, his path shall be secure.

Yet I was barred by the Empress from speaking further of his betrothed. Naturally, I suppose. If I consider what I have done… what I have done to her… to them…

I understand it, yes. But my mind cannot catch up with the understanding. I believed it was the best course for the nation. And yet, why do I endure such loneliness now…?

But this was not even the threshold of atonement—for my sins, for the karmic retribution they have brought me.

That knowledge would come later.

The enmity between the Empress and the Empress Dowager springs from their differing visions for the realm.

I believe the opposite of justice is another kind of justice.

Tomorrow, on the twenty-fifth, the third volume of the book will be released in advance.

Please do enjoy that as well.

Sato Mashiro