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#but i love art from the archaic period
a-gnosis · 6 months
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Relief from Selinunte, one of the Greek colonies in Sicily, 6th century BCE. Two deities on a chariot, perhaps Demeter and Persephone (Hera and Athena or Helios and Selene have also been suggested).
Photo taken from here. I cropped it a bit.
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hedgehog-moss · 7 months
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About translation. I remember reading a translated version of the Illiad and the pre-note praised the translator because he had managed to balance making the translation work in Swedish while also keeping the original greek feel. It's often regarded as one of the best translations there is (in Sweden) and it makes me feel as if translating a book/poem/text is an art in itself.
Oh I love when translators do this, when it works—writing with an accent, by echoing the voice of a historical period. Marguerite Yourcenar did something similar with Memoirs of Hadrian—it's not a translation of a classic text but she wrote it in French as if it were, so it would feel authentic as the autobiography of a Roman emperor. Translation was an integral part of it: she would translate her first drafts from French to Latin or Ancient Greek (as Hadrian spoke both), which allowed her to notice phrasings that sounded wrong, too modern, and then she'd edit the French sentences accordingly.
It was translated in English by Marguerite Yourcenar's gal pal life companion Grace Frick, but I've not read the English version. It would be interesting to see how she made the archaisms work, considering English and French haven't preserved the same words from Latin and Greek. (To say nothing of Swedish or other translations!) For example the word "janiteur" appears in the French text to refer to a servant or guard; it comes from Latin ianitor and is meant to sound archaic or odd in French as we don't have this word; but American English does have janitor from Latin so the "classic" feel is lost and you'll have to use a different word and compensate for it elsewhere...
(Yourcenar couldn't predict this but since French has a lot more English loanwords nowadays than when she started writing her book in the 1920s, janiteur now sounds like an anglicism rather than a latinism. I wonder if she'd feel upset or intrigued if she knew that a modern-sounding word has sneaked into her carefully-chiselled text simply because another modern language we often borrow from has kept it alive)
Literary translation is definitely an art and I love that it can be used as a tool to cultivate a unique writing style too :) In her postface describing her writing process, Yourcenar said that translating her French sentences into Latin or Greek made the modern vocabulary, phrasings or even ways of thinking, as visible as plaster on a marble statue. She also compared the process to archaeological excavation, letting the voice of a Roman emperor emerge from under the layers of time and new words and syntax that were keeping it buried.
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jesuis-melodrama · 2 years
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Happy Belated Birthday to the Eternal Queen – Marie Antoinette
The very symbol for femininity, absolute monarchy, hedonism, and luxury, Marie Antoinette is not only one of the most controversial figures of history, but one of its most polarising.
One side of the spectrum may see her as a ignorant, wealth-loving, party-crazy Madame Déficit, while the other sees her as a misunderstood, unfortunate woman who was unfairly blamed for a country's troubles because of her foreign heritage.
To honour her anniversary on 2 novembre, here are two of my absolute favourite depictions of her in art.
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Marie Antoinette as portrayed by Kirsten Dunst in the film Marie Antoinette (2006) directed by auteur Sofia Coppola, and Marie Antoinette as drawn by mangaka Sakamoto Shin-ichi.
Despite being made by different minds and cultural contexts, an element that ties both artists together is that they both saw Marie Antoinette for what she is – a young girl.
Coppola is criticised for her use of contemporary pop and rock music in her film, which some critics feel made the movie too modern and removed the setting from its history roots, but there was another overlooked aspect of modern culture in her film – a pair of lavender Converses left unassumingly in the backdrop during the I Want Candy montage, almost unseeable at first glance among other salient points of Louis-heel shoes.
Coppola asserts that the shoes had not been left there by accident, a deliberate "fun" choice made by Second Unit Director Roman Coppola, and metaphorically could represent the young spirit of the then-Princess (roughly 17-18 at the scene). Likewise with the soundtrack, it may be hard to tell with Dunst playing the character from ages 14-30, and of course with historical elements a general audience would always assume the traditional and the stuffy of period films, but hard-banging soundtracks such as Hong Kong Garden by Siouxsie and the Banshees, and Aphrodisiac by Bow Wow Wow help to assert that these people acting in very different manners, that holds themselves archaically, and certainly talk and dress unorthodoxically are in fact just like the youth of modern times.
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Artists Sakamoto Shin-ichi takes this concept of combining the contemporary with the by-gone one step further – young, frivolous Queen Marie Antoinette actively uses social media in her Innocent Rouge appearances.
Her disconnection to not only the Third Estate but lesser nobles is shown through how she views them all as Likes given to her Instagram photos and Twitter posts, as a mass populace rather than individual beings. She is elevated to the point of delusion as she holds strong regards to her position as a blue-blooded noble, a God-chosen monarch.
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Yet, like the megalomaniacal media stars of today's age, Sakamoto also painfully reminds the audience of Marie Antoinette's naïvety and youth; most exemplified during a scene where Marie Antoinette responds to a series of scolding messages sent by mother Holy Roman Empress Maria-Teresa with a tongue-sticking-out emoji.
A classic, and stereotypically irritating response from children to lecturing parents.
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Whether or not Marie Antoinette truly deserved all the suffering she had undergone as she had gleefully deprived France of its currency for her own greed, or whether or not she was a misunderstood woman forced to suffer injustice by bearing the unfair hatred of an entire nation will never be uncovered.
All we have remaining of Marie Antoinette is secondary sources, second-hand accounts whose bias-filled words claim her as a saint or a devil, a noble queen or a whore.
But she was once a child, and a manifestation of France and Austria's alliance, enduring stiffening court rituals which would've tested the temper of any person. She was a woman sentenced to fate, and beyond that, she was a person.
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undrgrnd-nft · 2 years
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UNDRGRND ARTIST: DENIZ IZADI
BY NFTJOE, ORIGINALLY POSTED OCTOBER 21, 2022 ON UNDRGRND.IO
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Marta
Each week 100 NFTs are minted and randomly airdropped to UNDRGRND Membership Cardholders. To find out how you can be featured as an UNDRGRND Artist check out our Discord. 
Disney’s best-selling product isn’t a theme park, movie, or a streaming platform, it’s escapism. For decades people have flocked to Disney World to recapture their inner child and avoid the realities of a world that crushes that sense of wonderment and magic. The glamorous nostalgia of Disney will make one forget about problems, worries and issues if you simply believe that it can. Deniz Izadi plays with the paradox that this creates of reality and fantasy throughout her work.
The subversive nature of Deniz’s work mesmerizes her audience with beautiful moving colors like mosquitoes to a bug zapper, only to hit the viewer over the head with her stories of inequity and ironic juxtapositioning. “At first, I was very interested in drawing dark paintings,” Deniz says, “but gradually I realized people prefer to see colorful art.”
That’s exactly what Deniz accomplishes in all her work.
Her unknown faceless girls wearing Micky Mouse ears represent the faceless, unknown, impoverished girls in third-world countries wearing the souvenirs of a multi-billion dollar media conglomerate. “A period in my life was a backpacker,” Deniz says, “On my trip to beautiful Vietnam, a cute little girl from a poor family wore a shiny Mickey Mouse ears hat and her mother was selling flowers, The little girl was drawing shapes on the floor with her finger, She had no idea about Mickey Mouse and the glamor of the Disney World.” Add in a problematic history of Disney, and working conditions, this idea of what is presented and what lies behind it all adds another dimension to her work.
This theme of beautiful presentation vs ugly truth is hammered home in her series featuring Carnivale dancers from Rio de Janeiro. Deniz writes in the description for Viviane, “To understand the Rio samba schools, you have to understand where the schools come from — poor, marginal communities, mostly in the favelas, or shantytowns, of the city. The schools' annual displays cost millions of dollars — a combustible mix of money and poverty, says Aydano Motta, a journalist, and author who has written extensively about Rio's samba schools.
“As she puts it, the Carnival brings both joys and woes to its participants."
"The image of a woman in Carnival is very complex, not just for those on the inside but for the people on the outside as well."
“For Viviane, dancing at the Carnival helps her forget about everyday problems. ‘When I start dancing, when I hear the bateria’s rhythm, I become a completely different person. It is a character that exists there to be happy and to interact with the audience,’ she said, ‘I cannot live without samba anymore.’
“‘I’m in love with the samba school whose honor I uphold, and when I die I think they’ll put a Salgueiro crest on my coffin.’”
Even those aware cannot escape the draw to the beautiful as opposed to reality.
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AVAILABLE ON OBJKT
A female of Iranian descent now living in Turkey, it’s fitting Deniz’s work, which has always showcased inequalities and celebrated the strength of women, now can be seen through a different lens against the backdrop.
Now the juxtaposition of these women pretending to be a cartoon mouse, or Disney princesses flipping us off, speaks to the frustration of an entire region towards an archaic idealogy where women are forced to dress up and cater to the will of a male-dominated regime. These images are comical compared to the dire realities in Iran where improper clothing results in murder.
Up against the realities of life and giant corporations promising a way to recapture the magic of childhood naivety, could you blame anyone who would want to turn off their brain and escape? We all strive for an easier, light and carefree life but sometimes we must first sit with harsh truths to resolve them, rather than seek avoidance, and listen to artists like Deniz Izadi.
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classicschronicles · 2 years
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Hi lovelies,
I hope you’re all doing okay! Today’s entry is a bit of a random one but I was going through my camera roll (because I used up all my storage… anyways) and I found some pictures from when I went to the Louvre a few years ago and found a picture of a gorgeous sculpture. So today I thought I would tell you all about the Venus de Milo.
The Venus de Milo is an Ancient Greek sculpture that was created during the Hellenistic period, between around 150 and 125 BC. It is thought to depict the goddess of love- Aphrodite (roman name Venus). It is sometimes referred to as the Aphrodite de Milos, due to the discrepancy in naming a Greek sculpture after a Roman goddess. The sculpture stands at an amazing 6ft 8in, and is made of Parian marble. Parian marble is a fine grain of pure white marble that was quarried (mined) during the classical era around the Aegean Sea. It was highly prized by Ancient Greek sculptors and is the main composition for many classical masterpieces, including the Winged Victory of Samothrace. Some scholars take issue with it being described as a depiction of Aphrodite and claim that it was actually Amphitrite (goddess of the sea and wife of Poseidon), as she was venerated on the island on which the statue was found. Also, guys really cool side note, the sculpture adheres perfectly to the golden ratio which is so cool.
The Venus de Milo was discovered in 1820 by a Greek farmer buried in a niche within the ruins of the ancient city of Milos. Upon its discovery in 1820 the sculpture was considered to be a significant artistic finding, but it wasn’t truly appreciated until much much later. Based on earlier drawings of the statue, before it arrived in France, it was revealed that there had been a plinth attached to the statue with the dates of its creation- dating back to the Hellenistic period, on a technicality this is after the classical period (as Ancient Greece is divided into three eras, Archaic, Classical, and Hellenistic). In the 19th century, the most desirable period for ancient art was ‘Classical’ and so the French actually hid the plinth that showed its true Hellenistic origins.
The Venus de Milo held a prime spot in the Louvre and became iconic, largely due to the clever french propaganda surrounding it and a need to reclaim an image of national identity and pride (this was because of a whole thing to do with Napoleon, just trust me it’s a lot). The fame surrounding de Milo in the 19th century owed much to the major propaganda, as in 1815 France had had to return the Venus de Medici to the Italians. The Medici had been regarded as one of the finest classical sculptures in existence and so its loss was monumental for the French art world. This is most likely the reason they promoted the de Milo so much, in an attempt to compensate for the loss of the Medici.
The statue has been praised relentless by artists and critics alike. Apart from this one dude who said it was “as beautiful as a gendarmerie”. Which honestly, I am choosing to ignore for no reason other than he’s wrong.
Anyways! I hope you all enjoyed reading about the Venus de Milo. I will link a 3D render here and the Louvre website has some really cool things about it too! Hope you all enjoy the rest of your weekend.
~Z
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lovelylittlelosers · 2 years
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sage!
sage ⇢ what ‘medium’ of art (poetry, music, fiction, paintings, statues etc.) is the most touching to you? why do you think that is?
I am going to use this ask to talk about Ancient Greek pottery more! Specifically 2 red figure kraters.
In red figure, the potter would throw the clay into the vase shape, cure it, and then glaze it / paint it with black and sometimes white to create the image. The red you see is actually that of the clay so everything was done in inverse which is just so cool to me.
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^^This is a krater from the archaic period in Athens and I mean LOOK at it! It’s so detailed and just jaw droppingly gorgeous. This krater would have been used to dilute wine and depicts a battle between the Greeks and the Amazonian warriors (perhaps the scene written by Herodotus!) Amazomachy (the word for these Greco-Amazon battles) was a pretty damn popular scene type to depict in the 5th century BCE in Athens but is most frequently found as mural or large scale paintings in homes or public buildings.
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^^This Apulian (not in Greece!) krater is dated to 116 AD and is even MORE detailed. It depicts two women approaching a funeral monument holding offerings or votives. You can really see the passage of time here from the archaic Attic piece to this piece of the same shape from the Italian peninsula 500 years later, but the influence and technique of its predecessors is still being applied! Can you tell I love kraters?
I think what strikes me most about ancient pottery isn’t just the beauty of it. It’s also the acknowledgment of people before us and their skill and their diversity. Historians and academics can often try and summarize or lump together art and peoples if they’re just similar enough without properly acknowledging the personhood of those who created and used these items and how they interacted with each other through time.
For me ancient pottery is just such a big reminder about humanity, craft, and the ever changing nature of personal and cultural values - it won’t be like this forever and it hasn’t been like this for long!
Thank you for the ask I hope this wasn’t too nerdy lol!! 🏺❤️✨
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aelaer · 2 years
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9, 35, 44 for the ask game?
Answers to this ask game from a while ago.
9 - Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community. Oh this is harder, cuz it depends on if you mean fandom as MCU fandom, or Stephen Strange writers. Most who write Stephen are IronStrange writers, but I think they get a lot more ability to get traffic as it's easier to search for the ship than the character (worst part of AO3 is lack of main character feature). ... I'm avoiding the question. Let me look at my bookmarks, and I won't be tagging any IronStrange writers for the above mentioned reasoning (though there are certainly some underrated ones, I imagine). Keshwyn, anachronism, dragonnan. Solid writers (slower like I can be, so it's hard to build an audience), good Stephens, not a bucket-ton of kudos/reviews but their fics are well worth reading. And I'm gonna mention AuroraWest as well because while I don't read a lot of her works (I'm not much of an E fic reader and there's a lot of E fics XD), I'm bloody impressed by her writing speed and dedication to her craft and ship of choice, and her Stephen's a bit different than a lot of other interpretations I read, but still feels in-character. So it's like, a nice change of pace. And for the amount she writes, if it was IronStrange, she'd have probably 5-10 times the amount of kudos. So if you like FrostStrange (both E and not, hah) she's worth checking out.
35 - How much has writing fic changed your life? Uh honestly, not as much as going into art did :P I think my writing skills for things like in school and work helped improve due to writing fic in my earlier years, and I have met a couple fanfic writers in the Tolkien fandom IRL, but otherwise it's a fairly non-impactful hobby. Made some lovely friends over the years but I haven't met most of them.
44. Rant about something writing related. Some of the American punctuation rules are really fucking stupid. For instance, when you have a word in quotes at the end of a sentence (non dialogue), the period *always* goes inside the quote. Like if I say, The word "dandy" is considered to some "archaic." that is the correct way to write it. And that's fucking dumb and I hate it. The period should be outside IMO (and I think in Brit English it may be).
I also hate how the Oxford dictionary is adding some new definitions to words in the dictionary because people are too dumb to learn the correct way. Like making "irregardless" a word. Language is living, blah blah blah, that's a good argument for including "yeet" and new slang into the dictionary, but not because people can't be bothered to learn their errors.
I also wish that the m dash was on your standard English keyboard. Thank goodness for Doc's automatic replacement function, but it'd be nice.
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casskeeps · 8 days
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anavyssos kouros
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basic information
name: anavyssos kouros (kroisos kouros)
date: 530-520 bce
artist: unknown
function: grave marker
size: just under 2m tall
original, reconstructed or copy: original naxian marble
subject
another kouros ! this lovely lad is not a likeness of the person whose grave he is marking (dead kroisos, whom raging ares destroyed while he was on the front ranks), but is instead a representation of idealised male youth and vitality.
context
i haven't been able to find any specific information to find on which front ranks dead kroisos was fighting, but in the high archaic period, sculptors were becoming much more interested in portraying naturalistic musculature and anatomy, instead of the highly idealised and geometric
composition
the anavyssos kouros' pose is very typical for statues of the period - the left leg forward, with the right just behind. this is also known as the archaic "walking pose", and serves to balance the statue and distribute the weight more evenly - good for a material like marble, which has a low tensile strength. the arms are by the sides with the fists clenched, another typical feature of archaic kouroi.
however, there is a key difference between the anatomy of previous typical archaic kouroi and the anavyssos kouros: the forearms are distorted in order to make the shape follow the curvature of the thighs. this is interesting for a few reaons - some earlier kouroi used a full, distinct bridge between the wrists and the thighs, but the sculptor of this kouros has chosen to only bridge the gap between the arms and the thighs at the medial phalanges - this makes the support much less obvious, enabling the statue to appear much more realistic and lifelike. the musculature of the kouros is also notably more naturalistic than previous sculptures, with its muscular tone being demonstrated by curves and rounded planes, such as the calves and iliac crest. these rounded planes demonstrate a significant step away from the geometricism of earlier sculpture, and the sculptor has paid attention to fine anatomical detail such as the nipples, tear ducts, and navel.
there has been very little development in the content of these statues; even throughout the later periods, nude and idealised men remain a prevalent subject in greek art, particularly in free-standing sculpture. this may be due to the difficulties in portraying narratives in isolated free standing sculpture.
the anavyssos kouros has quite an enigmatic expression; the archaic smile remains a staple of archaic art, but the mouth does not curve upwards as would be properly expected in a smile. instead, the anavyssos kouros' mouth has pronounced mesolabial folds - expected from manipulation of the muscles surrounding the mouth, but the lips of the kouros remain straight. the eyes are wide, large, and open, with similar large painted irises to the peplos kore, but do not protrude from the head markedly.
the sculpture is well-proportioned; while the musculature is clearly idealised, the overall proportions remain clearly balanced.
stylistic features
there is more distinct stylised depiction of human forms in his hair - he has typical hair for a kouros, a symmetrical arrangement of beaded braids with volute curls around the hairline.
the archaic smile makes yet another appearance, and the large eyes continue from earlier statues, however there has been significant development in the presentation of the face. the features are less over-emphasised, which makes the overall balance of the features much more naturalistic and aesthetically pleasing.
scholars
woodford: "curved masses suggestive of soft flesh rather than hard stone"
boardman: "life was beginning to be as important a factor as geometry"
osborne: "the male body has been enriched by moulding, rather than simply inscribing, anatomical features"
extra sources
smarthistory (dr bulger)
online reading
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saintobio · 2 months
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as you like it (sequel to romeo ♱ juliet)
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↳ gojo satoru/reader
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bound by the dictates of the prophecy, the emperor contemplates whether retaining his wife or severing ties with her may be the sole path to fulfill his ambitions. yet, what he may fail to discern, is that the plague in his reign lies beyond what meets the eye
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♱ genre. tragedy, revenge, period piece, royal au
♱ tags. 26k wc, extremely OOC, tyranny, emperor!gojo, empress!reader, (you will hate the reader!), unrequited love, religion (especially Catholicism), blasphemy, implied infidelity, violence, war, rebellion, misogyny, impregnation, smut, disease, gore, death, arson, and written in early modern english/archaic english
♱ notes. heavily inspired by anne boleyn's real-life story, and manhwas sister, i am the queen in this life and ten ways to get dumped by a tyrant, as well as shakespeare’s king henry V. direct quotes also derived from the movie the king. has no correlation to the original as you like it play except for the title, as i wanted a title to my r+j sequel that's still shakespeare-inspired :) feedbacks are highly appreciated :')
masterlist. playlist. gallery. archaic grammar index.
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EARLY MODERN ENGLISH -> MODERN ENGLISH VERSION
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𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐄.
SATORU, Emperor of Caelum.
YOU, of the same order.
SUGURU, knight commander of the Imperial Order of Knights.
TOJI, Emperor of Astheryn.
NAOYA, a duke, cousin to Toji.
GENEVA, nurse to the empress.
MAXIMILIAN, advisor to the Caelan Emperor.
NANAMI, a nobleman. 
The Pope.
FRIAR MYCHAL, a Franciscan.
YUUTA, cousin to Satoru, exiled
A maid. 
A physician.
The Oracle. 
Citizens of Astheryn and Caelum; kinsfolk of both empires; the Imperial Court, Nobles, Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 
In a vast empire's might, an Emperor reigned,
Duty's veil his heart restrained.
Beside him, an Empress fair did stand,
Her love unmet, her heart unmanned.
Cold and still, his heart did lie;
Untouch’d by love's gentle sigh.
The Empress long’d for his affection true,
Yet his love remain’d a distant hue.
In shadows deep, her love did pine,
Bound by duty's rigid line.
As seasons passed, her love turned to ire,
A flower of vengeance, fuel’d by fire.
Now as our tale begins we see,
How love and duty bring us forth to tragedy.
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
THE LATE 15TH CENTURY
𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈
Only slightly did you loosen up as the sequence of your steps were taken in slow but measured strides. Each footfall had a rhythm that was neither lacking in confidence nor hesitance, with your heels clicking on the marble floors and the sound of it echoing along the spacious hallway as if to remind every person within the vicinity that the Empress was arriving. You held your breath much to the tightness of your corset and tried to keep your emotions intact, taking a halt from walking knowing that your ladies-in-waiting were tailing you closely behind.
Two valiant knights stood by his door, offering a curtsy to their Empress the minute you had crossed their eyes. A knock on the door followed. Then, soon enough, you were granted a step forward inside your husband’s study. 
There he was, ensconced behind his desk amid copious piles of paperwork, his attention undivided by the woman who graced his study with her presence. His locks, reminiscent of Arctic snow, were meticulously arranged, accentuated by the resplendent black doublet he donned, adorned with intricate silver patterns upon the brocade cloth. His eyes, as blue as the sky and oceans alike, declined to meet the gaze of his own wife. 
“For what purpose art thou come?” he uttered.
Meanwhile, you made a swift curtsy and motioned for the attendants and knights to depart away, leaving the two of you alone. “I crave a word with thee, Your Majesty.”
His countenance appeared to congeal as he fixed his gaze upon you for several uncomfortable moments. "Of what matter?"
“Concerning the New Year's banquet, dear husband. It draweth nigh in a fortnight, and arrangements must be set in motion.” You stood squarely afore him, hands entwined afore you. A regal presence. A queenly figure, fashioned precisely to his desires. Such was the image the empire had embraced since your ascension to the throne. Before him stood the epitome of grace suited to that role. “Pray, what theme dost Your Majesty propose?” 
He closed the ledger he had been inscribing on, scrutinizing your features intently. “I harbor little fondness for such gatherings, yet the banquet is a necessary evil.” His gaze shifted towards your gown, meticulously crafted to complement your form, adorned with the same elaborate embroidery as his own attire, accented by a sizable silver cross adorning your neck like the good Christian you were. “The citizens already begin to take note of our opulence; thus, I eschew an excessiveness that may draw undue attention. Let it be lavish enough to suit our status, yet not overly extravagant. As for the theme, it ought to be black and silver to match our regalia.”
The Caelum regalia, once bedecked in innocent hues of white and blue, underwent a somber transformation to black and silver upon his ascension to the throne. Behind this alteration lay a tragic tale. Satoru, the man whom you addressed as husband, had first borne the title of Crown Prince before ascending to the imperial seat. His younger sister, the infamous maiden who met her demise alongside her lover, was bound to an ill-fated romance that purportedly quelled an age-old enmity between two ancestral foes.
The forbidden romance betwixt a scion of a Zen'in and a scioness of a Gojou, both of princely lineage, ignited strife between the Astheryn and Caelum Empires. With half a century of animosity between these bloodlines, a lust for supremacy, and an unyielding clash between nations, the discord erupted into a civil strife, ceasing solely with the ratification of a peace accord signed by the sovereigns of both empires.
Yet before all these tumultuous events unfolded, Satoru's ascent to the highest throne owed much to you. Though you were not his intended betrothed, you were a lady deeply enamored with the prince; with whom he divulged myriad fervent nights with. As the daughter of a duke whose lineage boasted mastery in the craft of forging fine swords and weaponry, and so well-versed in the art of warfare, he saw you fit to stand as his empress, prepared to reciprocate your erstwhile unrequited love through means of marriage. Howbeit, this accord came at the cost of you aiding him in his quest to unseat both his father and mother from their thrones. He loathed his parents just as strongly as he did Astheryn. The rulers preceding him were despotic tyrants, showing scant regard for kinship ties, and they exhibited no sorrow for the passing of the princess, which was a loss deeply felt by Satoru.
Satoru carried ambitions of ascending to the august throne of Caelum from a tender age, unwilling to await the natural demise of his father for ascension and instead, do it by means of force. He was prepared to imbrue his hands with his own kindred’s blood to sit at the highest throne, yet such a feat was no trifling matter. The civil unrest presented the opportune moment to execute his plans, spurred on all the more by his sister's untimely demise. With your military affiliations and strategic acumen, you aided him in orchestrating a coup d'état against his own kin. Ending it all with him, severing his father’s head with a sword, and you, killing his mother with a dose of poison. His other oppositions followed, and those who did not support his cause were offered a swift journey to hell through mass execution. Throughout these macabre events, you stood steadfast by his side, currying favor with the surviving nobility to fortify his position as emperor. Identifying traitors, you presented them for his judgment. In due course, you became his most trusted confidante, the sole woman deemed worthy to stand beside him on the day of his coronation, heralding the dawn of a new era for the empire. Thus, a new nation, a new sovereignty, and a new regalia were born.
“As thou wish, my liege.” With careful steps, you navigated his study, casting an appraising gaze upon the books lining his shelves before pausing behind him. He ought to discern that the banquet did not solely occupy your intentions that day. “Prithee, burden not thyself with all this paperwork.” Your lips brushed his ear. “Instead, shall I expect thee in my bedchamber this eve?” 
He tensed, drawing a deep breath to temper his emotions. You always seemed to know how to push his buttons—in good and bad ways. You played him like a fiddle as always. Indeed, he was well aware that your desires surpassed the scope of mere banquet arrangements. “Very well.”
The distant gaze he cast upon you pierced deeply. Eight long years of matrimony, and only now did he begin to exhibit such aloofness. Only now did such estrangement manifest. What sudden shift had befallen this marriage? You were not privy to the answer, yet you strived to deny it. Natheless, for the sake of your peace of mind, did you venture forth with your inquiry. “My liege, I wilt be so bold as to believe that thou dost not carry grudge against me.” Your eyes remained fixed upon his saintly face. “Do I speak true? For my failure to conceive the last time we—”
“‘Tis useless to harbor grudge over matters beyond control.” Displeasure thinned his lips. “What gain have I, to chastise thee merely because thou art barren?”
Pained by his words, you stepped away, quietly but firmly asserting, “...I am not barren.”
“Thou hast failed to conceive after eight years; to mine eyes, that qualifies as being barren.” He flipped back to the page he was perusing, resuming his writing.
Any trace of happiness that once adorned your mien now dissipated, and was replaced by the shadows of his cutting words. “Then, what plan shall thou construct if I fail to bear fruit?”
Satoru halted in his writing, his quill suspended in the air. He closed his eyes as he spoke, “Should thou not conceive in the foreseeable future, I am left with no alternative but to initiate a divorce. No matter the cost.”
Your eyes widened at his decision, your breath catching in your throat as the weight of his words settled upon you. His words seemed rehearsed, so well-thought of, as though he had expected this day to come and heretofore looked forward to informing you of this very plan. You failed to catch his reasoning, but succeeded at bearing the pain it had burdened you with. What had driven him to this conclusion? Certainly, a mere heir would not lead him to this ultimatum. 
“A concubine, then, doth thou suggest so?” Firm and resolute in your stance was how you received his proposal. 
The emperor averted his gaze, allowing silence to stand as your response for several minutes until he finally articulated a considerate reply. “Mine heir cannot be born a bastard, and so concubines shall only complicate matters. I have no plans in that department.” You sensed the direction of his thoughts, and you dreaded his continuation. “Rather, I beseech thee to abdicate thy throne, and I shall remarry another lady, be it of royal or imperial lineage, to bear the heir of this empire. It is the sole fitting course of action. That which, a divorce shall become necessary.”
“Step down from my throne?” Your voice quavered, laced with disbelief and anguish. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “Thou would cast me aside, discard me like a worn-out garment in your mistemper’d fit, for the sake of an heir? After everything I have done for thee.” Your words echoed in the chamber, each syllable heavy with the betrayal you felt.
Your heart, once brimming with devotion, now lay shattered at your feet. All your life, you have loved him. All your happiness and tears, you have devoted to him. You had stood by his side through every trial, every conquest, only to be deemed unworthy of bearing his legacy. The sting of rejection seared your soul, igniting a fierce resolve within your wounded spirit. Yet nothing was his response. No words of comfort did he return for your wifely agony. 
With a voice trembling through a mixture of sorrow and defiance, you met his gaze. “Fair enough,” you whispered, your tone laden with a sorrowful resignation. “If it is a concubine thou seek, then so be it. But a divorce, will I not honor. And know this, my lord,” you declared, your voice rising with a newfound strength, “I am the Empress. The only one. There is none within this empire akin to me, for a worthless, lowly concubine shalt not depose this Empress Y/N of Caleum thou wouldst so readily compromise.”
And in that solemn proclamation, you turned away, your stolid mien masking the shattered pieces of your fractured heart. 
His countenance remained stoic as he observed your departure, sighing inwardly as you exited his study. Although no longer offering a response, he found himself unable to deny the truth of your words. Nor the power in which you presented them. Your presence lingered in his thoughts, holding sway over him in a manner he could not fathom. 
As expected, you were epitome of a powerful empress just like what his mother once was and there ought to be a lot more convincing for you to step down from your post. 
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈
“If the oracle speaks true, then I fear, my lord, that this empire is destined to fall.”
It was late in the night, though the castle still brimmed with light from the torches adorning the halls. Most servants had retired to bed by this hour, barring the guards stationed at key areas of the castle. Meanwhile, the emperor remained awake, engaged in discussions concerning the fate of his sovereign. A predestined fate that could only be avoided should he make the effort to fulfill the conditions of the prophecy. 
Standing discreetly before him was Lord Maximillian, his advisor—a man who had witnessed his growth from juvenile years to the present moment. He had come to offer the emperor the much-needed counsel regarding the pressing matter at hand.
“Max, what say thee? Discuss unto me; dost thou deem me incapable?” The man of higher power questioned. “I have conversed with the Empress regarding the divorce. I have set forth the framework of my scheme should she falter in birthing my heir. I have articulated it in a manner that renders it just in her eyes. Yet, she reacts with such intensity. And loves so ardently. Ah! Women. Such vile, defiant women art the problem! A termagant—that, she is. For many years, I have afforded her the benefit of the doubt. Her mind is too ambitious for her own right. I know not how to proceed with her any longer. The prophecy dictates that I must have an heir.”
The old man returned him a soulless look. “If thou take the matter otherwise than is meant, then may I suggest that Your Majesty dispose of her.”
“Dispose?” he queried, as though he had misheard. “Her? My wife? Thou see it best to dispose of her?”
“Ay, I think it be. In the same fashion as your sire and dame,” Maximillian asserted, drawing a deep breath. “Prithee, do not misconstrue my intent as treason. My loyalty lies in thee, my liege. I stand by thee. I seek naught but the best for thee, for this empire hath not seen better days until thy sovereignty.”
Silence enveloped the air. Satoru took a moment to gaze at his elongating shadow, gradually shaping itself as he moved farther from the candlelight. In the darkness, his shadow morphed into a menacing silhouette, a specter lurking in the darkness was what had become of him. To become a tyrant was never his intention nor the promise he made to his departed sister, who yearned for Satoru to embody fairness and strength in rulership. And to be an emperor for the people. She had strived for peace among nations, yet here her brother stood, mirroring the oppressive parental figures he had overthrown. What allure did power hold over him? What such force could sway him now to forsake the very individual who had displayed unwavering marital devotion towards him?
“Hast thou been in correspondence with the King of Ellesmere?” inquired the Emperor. “Is it not so that his daughter, the princess, was to wed the late Prince of Astheryn? That prince was the very son of that wretch. That despot. That Emperor Toji II of Astheryn, my foremost enemy. What hath become of that princess, dost thou know?”
Maximillian stared at him intently. “Eight years and a vicennium ripe, yet still an unmarried maiden is the fair Princess Katarina. Is it her hand that Your Majesty seeks?”
“I shall speak my mind as the emperor, so I say this: ‘tis merely her status that makes of her the sole eligible woman to be my wife and empress of this empire.” His decision was wrought with hesitation yet born out of necessity. “Yet for the nonce, she cannot be seated until Y/N hath been dethroned. My decision shall hinge upon whether my wife shall be able to bear my heir anon. Elsewise, I shall dispose of her.”
His advisor sent him a look of approval. “‘Tis a decision that can only originate in thee, my lord. God be with ‘ye.” 
“If that be all, then give leave awhile.” The emperor paused at the western part of the castle, a nigh away from the corridors leading to his wife’s bedchamber. “I do beseech thee to be my herald on the morrow. Write to the King of Ellesmere briefly and concisely. Ere thou falsely honor a new empress, the long hours of my night are to be spent with the woman presently seated upon the throne.”
Eventually, Satoru reached your chambers and noticed that a few candles had been lit, their warm light illuminating the room softly. In the solitude in which you found yourself, seated by the bed and bathed in moonlight, silent in such serenity he hoped not to disturb. The fabric of your nightgown, thin and delicate, revealed the contours of your womanly figure beneath. He, too, was clad in a thin robe that left little to the imagination. 
As you turned to face him, you caught sight of the faint scars and marks from countless battles etched across his body, though his expression remained mostly neutral as it always had and you were unbeknownst to the profanity he had spoken of you a few minutes hence. Now, his electric blue eyes looked at you with careful scrutiny, pondering whether this sensual encounter would all be in vain or if you truly intended to fulfill your role and bear an heir this time.
“How stands the hour?” You spoke softly, approaching him with a sad glint in your eyes. “I have waited.”
“Pardon. Urgent matters call’d upon me.” Satoru could see the sadness in your eyes, but he tried his best to ignore it. You are barren, and there is little he can do to change that. He should begin his newfound task to detach from you. You brought him no good. You offered him no better fate. You were no longer instrumental for him to attain his long-standing ambition. Nevertheless, with your genuinely loving eyes he found himself conflicted, and that showed in his facial expressions. His brow knit, and he parted his lips as if to speak before hesitating and closing them again. You sensed his inclination to make you feel miserable, to render you desolate, yet he could not muster the resolve to articulate such words. Thus, he remained silent.
While you, you stood perfectly still. Like a porcelain doll displayed as a mere decoration. You wanted nothing but to give him his manly satisfaction that night, hoping that your marriage could still work and that he would not need the betrothal of another lady to carry him an heir. With delicate hands, you let the nightgown slip away, falling beneath your feet as the cold air caressed your naked form. This body. All of it belonged to him. “My lord.” You kept your eyes on him. And he, on your shapely bosom. “Please do with me as thou wish.”
Satoru’s eyes darkened as he stared at you, his voice taking a commanding tone to match his expression. “Turn around.”
You did as ordered. As obediently, as submissively. Like a servant serving her master. Yet, beneath this guise of obedience lay a deeper yearning—to vie for his love once more, and to affirm, if only for one last time, that his words this morn were but a fleeting outburst of heightened emotions.
“Thou art fair, indeed,” whispered he. ‘Tis a shame that you fall short in one aspect.
He walked behind you, enfolding you in his muscular arm, ensnaring you in his robust grasp as his fingers traced a path down your back. You could feel the contours of his toned abs pressed against your back, while he explored the dips and curves of your body with his touch, squeezing the soft mounds on your chest. He then leaned his forehead against your neck, trailing tender kisses along your spine. 
The passionate night continued with the both of you taking turns in granting each other pleasure. The kisses around your neck, his tongue in between your folds, your hand wrapped around his well-endowed member. And before you know it, he was entering you from behind, penetrating the depths of your cavern in pursuit of reaching his high. His grasp on your hips tightened with each thrust, rendering your knees weak as you remained on all fours.
Your intimate session lasted for a while, as he was not satisfied enough at having only one release for the night. He jostled you from the back, to the side, and to the front. All of which left you with the warmth of his seed seeping out of your entrance, and subsequently down your thighs. 
If only he did not let his mind speak, you could have deluded yourself that this night was his declaration of utmost love for you. 
“I shall leave thee if an heir dost not soon grant me, do we share this understanding?” Satoru did not sleep as he looked at you, his thoughts running rampant as he questioned whether or not he was being too cruel. His heart skipped a beat as he saw a second of your tears, tears that you so rightfully held back, and he was at a loss of words for once. He knew that he needed to stay firm on his decision, but seeing you on the verge of breaking down... it struck guilt in him. Satoru’s face softened, his tone becoming more calm and less forceful. Subconsciously did he do his best to comfort you. “It disheartens me that it hath come to this. Though I speak it to thee, I have duties to fulfill as emperor.” 
You could not answer immediately and tried to bear the sting it brought to your heart. “How now, didst so suddenly thou find it easy to cast me aside? Wherefore, is it another lady on thy mind?”
“That’s not so.” His guilt was knocking at the door, but he tried to pay it no mind. “This empire requires an heir and thou have failed me.”
“Blame the lack of children on thyself, perchance.” You bit back as your chest rose and fell from heavy breaths. “So infrequently did mine own husband warm my bed as though I am unwed. Blame it, then, on the distance thou have set upon us! A child cannot be born if not be made.”
Satoru’s eyes narrowed at your words. “And dost thou suggest we consummate every minute and every second of the day?” A scoff left his lips. “Eight years, I have given thee.” 
“And yet, for eight years, thou hast not learn’d to love me.”
Your gaze remained fixed, each word hanging heavily in the air, as the weight of your shared history and unresolved emotions loomed between the two of you. It was as though the very atmosphere crackled with tension, the silence pregnant with unspoken truths and unfulfilled desires. What was his true and most honest intent in forsaking you? 
Satoru sat by the edge, ultimately deciding to leave you with yet another night devoid of slumber, lone upon your chamber. “Love? That very love is what killed my sister.” 
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈
A fair distance from the Gate of Saint Pellegrino, a homeless woman cradled a baby in her arms. Her other children darted about Saint Peter’s Square while she sang a hauntingly familiar lullaby to her infant—a melody too melancholic for a child, yet so fitting for the occasion. You recognized it as the song created by the Caelan citizens after the war ended. Her dulcet voice would rival the angels of the sky, and amidst the throng of people attempting to breach the ranks of the knights surrounding the Emperor and Empress, she stayed firm in her spot, her haunting hymn weaving through the atmosphere, while her storm-grey eyes bore into you with an eerie intensity to captivate you in a trance. 
A rose will bloom, it then will fade
So does a youth, so does a fairest maid
Beneath the stars, they found their place,
In secret trysts, love's tender grace.
But lo, the fates their love did fray,
In bitter strife, they slipped away.
So hush, dear ones, and hear this lay,
Of love that wilted, night and day.
In whispered sighs, they bid goodbye,
Two souls in love, 'neath starry sky.
A decade had passed since the most scandalous demise of the Astheryn prince and the Caelum princess had occurred, where both lovers were discovered lifeless within the somber halls of the Sistine Chapel. Contrary to the common folk's belief, they were not wed, nor did they meet their tragic end at Saint Peter’s, forsooth, as their bodies were in fact found at the nearby Sistine Chapel, and their mortuary later held at Saint Peter’s basilica. The Catholic church acknowledged this romantic tragedy as a conclusion to the long-standing feud betwixt two noble empires, henceforth commemorating the young couple's demise each passing year with a holy mass.
This year rendered particular significance as it marked the solemn tenth anniversary of their untimely departure. Mayhap, it may be the reason why your husband had been on edge as of late. Every year, his sister’s demise served as a brutal reminiscence for him—a grim reminder of his perished sister and the origin of his tyrannical reign. He bore witness to his parents' handling of the conflict with Astheryn ten years ago, whereupon they callously demanded the common folk spill their blood in service to the imperial dynasty, igniting civil unrest in its wake. Such ruthless and cowardly deeds left an indelible mark upon him and brought him to the ultimatum of becoming a usurper. You vividly recalled the night he sought solace at your family's estate, clad in battered armor from countless battles waged. That eventide, he wept in your arms, confessing the death of his sister and his burning desire to exact vengeance upon those responsible for his loss. In exchange for marriage, you devised a scheme to orchestrate the coup that would once and for all elevate him to the imperial throne.
Despite the facade of peace ushered in by the treaty between him and the Astheryn Emperor, the truth remained stark: both empires were merely feigning reconciliation. They were only nominally “at peace”. A cold war, by all accounts, defined their true relationship.
The tension could be felt inside the basilica even from the moment you and your husband arrived at The Venera, a microstate on the borders of Astheryn and Caelum, in front of the men of both empires, as well as the members of the Holy Catholic Church. For many years, this sacred state remained a recognized territory of Caelum, despite its official designation as an independent ecclesiastical entity. The Gojou family were openly pious and deeply devout Catholics, while the Astherean citizens were predominantly Protestants. Not all members of the Zen’in clan practiced their empire’s predominant religion, and some suggested that Emperor Toji himself might be an atheist, albeit discreetly so. Rumors also circulated that the mother of the late Prince Megumi was herself a Catholic, which led to intense criticism regarding her marriage to a lineal heir of the imperial family. 
Nevertheless, this stark religious divide lay at the heart of the perennial animosity between the two nations. 
“Announcing Their Imperial Majesties, Emperor Satoru and Empress Y/N, the guiding stars of our empire, luminaries in the twilight of sovereignty.”
As you walked alongside Satoru, you noticed his usual bright blue eyes turning into a darker hue. His gaze fixated upon the altar, his countenance void of emotion, as you proceeded down the aisle by his side. Since that night, silence had permeated your interactions. And you still had no desire to engage him, especially if it meant enduring relentless pressure regarding an heir or the prospect of divorce. 
Yet there, you carried yourself with an air of quiet strength and dignity—a gown of the deepest black with long sleeves ending in delicate cuffs, a silver cross hung by your chest with a gemstone made from blood red corundum, and a flowing black veil crafted from the finest lace, enveloping your head and cascading gently down your back, partially obscuring your features. The veil added an air of mystery and solemnity in your poise. 
As for him, the Emperor was adorned in a doublet and hose ensemble, embellished with intricate brocade and tailored to fit his form exquisitely to accentuate his stature and regal bearing. Draped over his shoulders was a lavish cape of rich, dark velvet lined with ermine fur and fastened at the neck with a jeweled clasp bearing the insignia of his empire. Each fold billowed around him as he moved, creating a striking silhouette that commanded attention and respect.
No wonder the citizens of this empire were noticing your extravagance. And despised you for it. 
Throughout the mass, Satoru remained stoic, seated alongside you at the forefront of the church, his demeanor suggesting that this day of remembrance was a torment to his very soul. Still, he listened, but you doubted he agreed while Pope Alexandre VI delivered a sermon on the importance of unity and peace among nations, condemning the advocates of warfare and citing the tragic fate of the late prince and princess as a poignant illustration of how the animosity between two empires exacts a toll through sacrifice. Prayers were also offered for the souls of the civilians and soldiers who perished during the war, drawing inspiration from the teachings of the Bible as the mass adhered to the customary order of the Liturgy of the Word and of the Eucharist.
“In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti,” you recited under your breath, genuflecting before the altar and offering prayers for the soul of your husband's younger sister, beseeching that she find peace alongside her beloved under the guidance of the Holy Father. And as the mass drew to a close, you remained on your knees in prayer, the sound of approaching footsteps signaling the unwelcome arrival of an unexpected visitor—a presence that elicited a defensive reaction from your husband.
“Your Imperial Majesty, the Emperor of Caelum.” It was none other than Duke Naoya of Astheryn, whose sarcastic presence seemed to have acted as a representative of their highest ruler. Emperor Toji's absence to this occasion already constituted an affront to Satoru, and the pompous mien exhibited by the duke only intensified the indignation. A decade had passed since the death of Prince Megumi, and the prideful Astheryn Emperor still refrained from setting foot on Caelum's soil to acknowledge the purported 'peace' between the empires. Even more, the subtle curve on Duke Naoya's lips added an infantile insult to the already festering wound. “Kindly accept my belated salutations. It took me but a moment to discern thy identity—they speak of the Calean Emperor’s presence as formidable, yet, alas, reality oft falls short of reputation.”
You rose from the ground, poised to defend Satoru, but he raised a hand to forestall your intervention, maintaining his unruffled composure as he addressed the noble man’s jest. “Ah, well the Duke's wit is sharp as ever,” Satoru replied, his tone laced with equal sarcasm and earning the laugh of the surrounding nobles. “It doth seem that overseeing a mere duchy grants the Duke his ample free time, unlike the responsibilities that accompany the rulership of an empire that he so covets.”
“Oh, certainly!” Duke Naoya spoke in Calean with a heavy Astherean accent, still unfazed as his eyes slowly drifted to you. “They doth pale in comparison to the burdens of ruling an empire. Yet, surely, it is not as burdensome with the absence of an heir.” He let his implication hang in the air, an obvious insinuation veiled in the guise of courtly banter.
Before the exchange could escalate into a diplomatic strain, Friar Mychal took it upon himself to intervene, exhaling a laugh of unease and positioning himself between the Emperor and the Duke. “Very well!” he exclaimed. “I have received tidings that the mass attendees shall offer tributes for the basilica in remembrance to the tenth year since the passing of the Prince and the Princess. As a matter of fact, there doth already lie a plethora of flowers adorning their statue that His Majesty Satoru hath offer’d to the museum.”
The museum was just a short walk from the chapel and the space itself was decorated with ornate ceilings, frescoes, and architectural details that added to the grandeur of the surroundings. An array of sculptures lined the hall; of cherubs, saints, warriors, and mythological figures. One of the newer sculptures were of the Prince and the Princess, portraying young lovers in a tender embrace with the princely lad staring at his lady’s face. The sculpture was from a renowned Calean artist which Satoru himself hired out of the pure intention of donating it to the Veneran Museum. The nobles, members of the imperial court, and members of the church were all in awe after the sculpture was revealed to the attendees as such meticulous carvings and lifelike detail could only be done by Giancarlo di Firenze. 
“A remarkable piece, indeed!”
“The detail is breathtaking!”
“To capture such emotion in stone… ‘tis as if they are whispering their love story to us.”
Your husband could not have been prouder. Alongside him, other nobles also contributed their offerings. Some notable ones included stained glass art, precious jewels, a pair of lovebirds, and… a particularly intriguing tapestry gifted by the Astheryn Empire.
The tapestry depicts the Astherean prince and the Calean princess lying together in death with the symbolic addition of a bloodied dagger laid atop the princess’ chest, representing the same weapon that Prince Megumi had used to end his life. The imagery not only insinuated that Satoru's sister was responsible for the prince's demise, but also served as an insult to the prevailing belief in her innocence surrounding her own tragic death.
“This…” Your mouth fell agape. You need not look into your husband’s visage to perceive his growing ire. “This is preposterous!” 
The joy was evident in Duke Naoya’s eyes, yet he endeavored to feign ignorance. “Ah, ere I forget, my noble cousin, the Emperor of the Astheryn Empire, did send an accompanying message addressed to His Majesty Satoru.” 
In the threads of time, woven with the fabric of our shared tragedy, lies the essence of our 'peace'. As we gather to honor the memory of what once was, I send forth this tapestry, whereupon love and folly intertwine in an eternal dance. May it serve as a testament to the fragility of alliances forged in blood and ink, where shadows of deceit cloak the truth we dare not confront. Whilst thou sit'st upon thy borrowed throne, may thou find solace in the echoes of thy usurped legacy. 
With insincere regards, 
Emperor Toji II of Astheryn
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
ACT IV
“My liege, this is unacceptable! Astheryn doth taunt us.” 
An urgent assembly convened at the council chamber, where courtiers gathered to seek counsel from the emperor who was now seated in a position of humiliation following Astheryn's brazen act of insult. You joined the court session in support of your husband, positioned at the throne beside him, while numerous men, each to their own titles and lordship, stood before you both. The courtiers' visages displayed incandescent umbrage as they protested and vehemently rejected the malignance from the rival empire in defense to the Emperor of Caelum. Yet the subject of the scrutiny himself remained staid and dignified. 
“We cannot stand idle in the face of such an insult. If it be war they seek, then we shall grant it unto them!” exclaimed one of the members of the imperial court. A proponent of war he presented himself.  
“Indeed, Your Majesty. To allow such an audacious act of disrespect wilt deem us cowards!” said another one of the men. 
Satoru rested his arm on the armrest, a hand on his chin. He appeared to be lost in profound contemplation, yet you have grown long familiar with that expression of his to know that he was fueled with choler inside. “What say thee, Etienne? War is not a decision made lightly.”
Lord Etienne, as his name was called, spoke his opinion on the matter at hand and acted as an advocate for caution. “Aye and by, my lord. A rash decision could plunge our empire into chaos and suffering. Mayhap, we can explore diplomatic channels first. War should be our last resort, our first impulse not.”
“Your Imperial Majesty!” Lord Armand countered. “With all due respect, thy name hath been besmirched! This is blasphemous, is it not, to this empire and us, its men?” 
“Our men are not prepared for war, Lord Armand,” the previous noble claimed. “An’ how can we wage war with our forces against those of Astheryn’s? Their military prowess is the mightiest throughout the central continent. They are barbaric folks, enemies to peace. We are naught but simple foes to them.”
The belittling of Caelum’s military strength ignited your ire since that the training of soldiers, weapon crafting, and the establishment of the formidable imperial order of knights were specialties of your family—a legacy that your noble ancestors had established in this empire. It was why your family’s ties to the imperial Gojou family remained strong throughout the years. Therefore, hearing such remarks was derogatory to you.  
You held your position and participated in the discussion. “Lord Etienne, dost thou speak so ill of Caelum, which is thy country, and speak so well of Astheryn, which is thy enemy?” For a moment, the court was silenced. “God quit you in his mercy! Hear his sentence. Is Caelum a jest unto thee? We have established our military might since His Majesty’s ascent, and are potent enough to wage war against the entire world!”
“But Your Majesty—”
“Silence, all of thee!” Satoru rose from his throne, exhaling in exasperation, and shot you a displeased look. His next words were sharp and his anger misdirected. “Empress, I appreciate thy indignation, but this proves women shan’t meddle in court sessions. Emotions depart from thy mouth ere logic enters thy mind. Thou art dismissed from this session. At once.” 
You could not fathom his sentences. For the longest time, never before had he dared to disrespect you in the presence of his subjects. Never had he dared to deny you of your rightful place as the empress of this nation, knowing full well the pivotal role you played in his ascension to the throne. Why, you could not speak! You were rendered speechless, too stunned to respond as you sank back into your seat, grappling with the sting of hurt and humiliation he had inflicted on you.
And somehow, Lord Maximillian’s eyes were uncharacteristically fixed on you as though they were in triumph at your situation. He did well enough to mask that with indifference withal. What was this hostility? Even the knights who approached you only had regard for the emperor, following his command of escorting you out of the council chamber despite your desire to stay seated. Yet to save face from this abomination, you did it upon yourself to stand up and leave at your own will. 
“Nanami.” In your disappearance, Satoru spoke again, this time facing his subjects. “How dost thou propose we navigate this situation?”
Lord Nanami was more of the voice of reason, expressing his approach on the matter with neither bias towards engaging in or retreating from war. “My liege, I speak as a good man for thee. Let us convene with our allies, assess our military readiness, and explore all avenues for resolution. Only then shall we make an informed decision. It is most meet we arm ‘gainst the foe.”
Satoru already knew the answer before the man had spoken of it. Why so? Because it was the same route he would take. Only, it was his wounded pride and disdain towards his greatest adversary that landed him to a much more inhospitable decision. “Along with that blasphemous tapestry, written in his message, did that Emperor of Astheryn disparagingly refer to me as a usurper when I am the true born heir to the throne.” He ground out the words with clenched teeth as he stared at the portrait of his father. His hands balled into fists, his face hot and pinched with resentment. He detested being called a ‘usurper’ as he detested Astheryn and all of the Zen’ins. Regardless of the path he took to claim his throne, he was still a direct lineal heir to the Gojou bloodline. “I cannot let that pass. I cannot let his insult go unanswered. Hence, take down these words and address them to him, who is mine enemy.” Satoru stared straight ahead, his face blank and emotionless as he spoke his next words in flawless Astherean language. “Emperor of Astheryn, your words are as venomous as they are misguided. While thou dost revel in thy petty insults and thinly veiled threats, know this: the patience of Caelum wears thin. Thy tapestry of deceit and blasphemy shall find no place within the halls of our empire. Let it be known that the path thou treadest leads only to ruin and despair. Should thou persist in thy folly, Caelum shall meet thy challenge with unwavering resolve. Consider this thy final warning. The drums of war beat ever louder, and Caelum will not hesitate to answer the call, for this usurper thou deride may stay true to that label when I seize thy throne and make it mine.” 
Following the court session, the emperor retreated to the training hall until late evening venting his wrath against the despot from the rival empire. He devoted hours in the hall, wielding his sword, sparring with the swordsmanship master, and decisively overpowering him to feel a sense of honor for himself. In his mind, each strike was a fierce expression of his imagination, envisioning what that battle would be like if it were Emperor Toji II in his stead. It would have been their second encounter in the battlefield as the first one ended in armistice for the sake of the prince and princess. This time, however, the execution of this battle would be markedly different. 
Later that eve, he returned to his study, still in his armor as he met with his most loyal advisor. It was a private counsel to discuss matters unbeknownst to the rest of the empire—the prophecy and, notably, you. 
“I fear this as I say this: the prophecy is upon thee, my lord.” Lord Maximillian’s voice hinted at unease. His warning, spoken with a mood of paranoia. “The oracle’s riddles are living their truth, and this predicament with Astheryn is a vivid illustration of that fact. War looms on the horizon, and it threatens to be thy undoing. Now, more than ever, we require the backing of another nation in the likes of Ellesmere.” 
“I see that.” Satoru responded with a heavy exhale, tossing his metal helmet onto the carpeted floor. He made his way toward the expansive window and gazed out at the courtyard below. There, he spotted you, meandering the rose garden alone under the cover of night. You were brighter than the envious moon, coruscating like a fresh tulip amongst the field of wilted roses. 
The lord cleared his throat and stood next to the emperor. “Thou must rid of her, Your Majesty. If it is what the prophecy hath taught us, then the Empress serves as a harbinger of thy downfall. The destruction of Caelum is the comeuppance of retaining her. Abandon all hope that she will bring thee child or luck. I do acknowledge the attachment that Your Majesty hath formed with her in thy lusty years together, but she is ill fate to all of us.”
You stopped at the fountain, seemingly lost in deep thought, and then began an expressive argument with yourself in your solemnity. The sight earned his smile. Satoru could not keep his eyes off you as if they were drawn by your beauty under the luminescence of the moon. How pitiful, truly, that your innocence left you no knowledge of the conversation he was having with his advisor. 
“She shall be appointed as a concubine,” he declared, “Ridding of her is a waste; divorcing her offers a suitable solution. She may not have my heir, but she is a strong empress. A true villainess, yes. That, she may be, but she is devoted to me.” 
“Which is precisely why thou must dispose of her!" Lord Maximillian pressed onto the matter with greater seriousness. “My liege, it is anticipated that thou wilt yearn for Empress Y/N’s loyalty even at the success of your marriage with the Princess of Ellesmere. An’ her ferocious devotion could only hinder thy plans and bring about thy downfall. Who's to say she will withstand the temptation from inflicting harm upon the fair Princess Katarina out of jealousy? This, as thou knowest, could turn Ellesmere against us!” His passionate speech then silenced him into a quiet plea. “Pray, Your Majesty, I implore thee to ponder it deeply. For the sake of this empire.”
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕
In the evening, at the hour of eleven did you find yourself wandering the garden. It had become more and more difficult to live each day, unable to grasp why your spouse had been hostile against you for reasons you could not justify. If it were matters concerning your apparent infertility, then he could easily get a concubine just as you had already permitted. All of Caelum's nobility were well aware of your possessiveness towards him, yet it was you who proposed the idea of a concubine to him. Why, then, does he still entertain the idea of remarriage? Is it to guarantee that his heir will not be deemed a bastard? He possessed the authority to prevent such a label from being attached to the child.
“O, cruel fate!” You stopped in front of the fountain, staring at your reflection on the glistening water. “A dispassionate husband you have given me! Am I not fair? Hath I lost charm and warm youthful blood? Hath Cupid launched his awful arrow onto some other where? O, for that he is mad!” 
Tears welled up your eyes, blurring your vision as you looked into the mirrored reflection. You thought of Satoru’s hateful gaze when you closed your eyes and could feel the painful knots in your stomach. He had been naught but a distant spouse for eight years in your marital union, alas and alack, any improvements were farfetched. Every attempt at progress only fueled into a relationship filled with disagreements. 
Your monologue resumed. “There could be another woman, could it? A maid, perchance? One that crawls his bed at night whilst I am sound in my slumber. Fie, insolent wench! Or must it be a noble lady he had seen at a ball, a coming-of-age ceremony, or anything of the sort? Vile, dishonorable harlot! I shall strip off thy noble status and exile thee hence from Caelum!”
A sigh ended your ranting, leaving you with more tears to shed as you fondly remembered your youthful days of infatuation with him. He was the man you had dreamed of, yet now all he would do was to quarrel, and quarrel, and quarrel. You had become an enemy in his eyes. He may have drowned you with extravagant gifts and the rarest jewels throughout your marriage, but the one you most coveted—his love—was one he could not give. 
“My lady?” 
You turned around at the sound of the gentleman’s voice, whereupon a knight presented himself to you. No, not merely any other knight, but the Knight Commander of the Imperial Order of Knights. Sir Suguru, Caelum’s most prized possession, a power and battle-fit warrior, who could defeat a hundred armed men by himself alone. A hero he was referred to by this empire’s people. His commitment to chivalry and service did not go unnoticed as your husband, the very emperor he served, had more than once awarded him for fostering high morale and esprit de corps among other knights. 
“What brings thee hither, and wherefore?” you asked, watching him curtsy before you as he did the standard imperial greetings. His silver suit of armor gleamed, reflecting the stars in the sky, while the black cloak enveloping him mirrored the void of the night. Truly, an intimidating presence for those that knew none of him. 
Howbeit, his face was a stark difference from the aura he exuded. His eyes curved into crescent moons as he smiled, offering what appeared to be a handkerchief. “I am about my nightly rounds in the palace, and in hearing Your Majesty’s woe did I come forth. Is everything alright, Empress?” 
You sighed in lamentation and accepted the linen cloth from his hand. “To say ‘alright’ how I wish that would be so. The state of my marriage troubles me, yet hear none of it for these matters art private.”
Suguru acquiesced to your words and nodded in respect toward you, still remaining by your side in silence. Like a personal guard stationed to protect you as it seemed he had no intention of leaving you alone in the courtyard. 
“How, now! Dost thou not care to leave a woman in her peace?” you questioned, displaying a moue on your face. The tears have long been dried from your cheeks as you spoke to him. “I crave not to be perceived!” 
It was already a rare sight to cross the Knight Commander’s path around the palace, given that his duties did not include serving as a personal guard to the emperor. He was typically present only during official or diplomatic gatherings, and rather trained and oversaw the elite group of guards that would protect the emperor and empress. Nevertheless, with what little interactions you had with him, Suguru had always conducted himself as a respectful and dutiful subject towards you. 
“Forgive me. It is quite perilous to be alone outside at night, Your Majesty, as thy vulnerability may pose a risk to thy safety.” He moved to unclasp his mantle, draping the large black cloak around your shoulders, a much smaller figure than himself. “And if thou permit, the night is cold and a lady must stay warm.”
There was a strange flutter in your heart as your wide eyes saw the gentility in his intentions. You could no longer question why dozens of noble women would line up to vie for his attention. His actions spoke better than his words ever could. How far, you wondered, would his kindness to you take him? “Art thou not a bound subject to my husband?” 
“Forsooth, I am.” He stared ahead. “I have been his friend since our youth. However, it is with Your Majesty’s kin that I owe the honor of being a knight. It is with thy father’s support that I consider myself alive, standing here in this palace as the leader of all knights.” 
Not once did you move your eyes away as you studied his sincerity. “Then, if I ask thee to commit treason against the Emperor of Caelum,” you spoke with such regal power, “Shall I assume thy commitment to me?” 
For a while, Suguru did not speak. He appeared to be contemplating his answer as his stance had become defensive. Or hesitant, whichever fit. He did not meet your careful eyes, though he did look down and confess a knowledge that greatly devastated you. “The prophecy is what dictates His Majesty’s disposition toward thee. In the dungeon hides an oracle that he fortnightly seeks. I escorted him when he visited the oracle, who foretold him that he requires the birth of an heir in the near future, else a woman of no monarchical descent shalt be the cause of his downfall. To mine understanding, he read her riddles as having the need to execute thee and wed another woman of true royal lineage. That, that truth bears my commitment to thee, Empress.” 
Upon hearing Suguru's words did your heart sink, and a wave of disbelief washed over you. It felt as though the ground had been pulled from beneath your feet, leaving you suspended in a state of shock, desperately trying to grasp the magnitude of what had just been revealed to you. 
“Faugh! By’r Lady, that is a grave accusation!” Anger simmered beneath the surface of your composed exterior. You were livid at Suguru for being the bearer of such devastating news, for being the messenger of your potential downfall, and felt betrayed by your own husband, the Emperor, for keeping such a crucial prophecy hidden from you. You wondered why he had never shared this information with you, why he allowed you to live in ignorance while he made plans for your potential demise. But one thing for certain, was that this was the reason for his growing detachment toward you. 
The knight could only provide you with a comforting bow. “By the grace of God, these words art true. Lord Maximilian conspires with him. Hie to the dungeons and seek the oracle, my lady. She shall impart the truth unto thee.”
Beneath your anger lay a profound sadness, a heartache that cuts to the core of your being. The realization that your own husband, the man you loved and had pledged your life to, saw you as nothing more than a pawn in a game of power and succession. You felt a sense of profound loss, mourning not only the potential loss of your own life but also the loss of trust, of love, of the future you had envisioned.
Despite the tumult of emotions raging within you, you remained outwardly composed, your mask of regal poise firmly in place. You knew you must tread carefully, that showing weakness now would only play into the hands of those who seek your downfall. 
And yet, the devil showed himself. You had been oblivious to your husband’s presence by the window of his study as he stood a great distance from you, watching you engage in an intimate conversation with his Knight Commander down below. He could not gauge where that sudden familiarity came from as he witnessed Suguru draping his cape around you—an action that crossed a territory he should not have sought. The emperor could no longer tolerate watching it, walking in haste along the halls of the palace until he eventually reached the courtyard. His gaze was burning into the back of Suguru’s head as he stopped behind you, waiting for you to notice your husband’s approach before he spoke. 
“Empress.” His deep voice startled you. 
Your eyes were clouded with resentment, hidden under the veil of a devoted wife. “My liege.” 
Satoru stared at Suguru with a fierce look before turning to you. “It is dangerous to be abroad at this hour. I desire naught untoward to befall thee, hence I came hither to ensure thy safety.”
“I apologize, then, for causing thy worry.” A bitter smile painted your lips and the tone of your voice suggested of feigned concern. “As thou seest, I have a knight here who is trained to guard and protect me.” 
The emperor narrowed his eyes at the aforementioned knight, who elected silence out of deference to the reigning monarchs afore him. This very knight was a childhood friend of his, but now Satoru regarded him as a rival, for all the peculiar reasons. “Go and depart now, Suguru,” he commanded, and yanked the cape from the empress’ body, then flung it toward the knight. “I shall escort my wife back.”
Satoru caught you sending an apologetic look toward the Knight Commander, which in return caused his ire to grow. What was the conversation you shared with him for you to act that way? In fact, he had never seen you pay another man that much attention. What a devious, little wench. A foxy, scheming jezebel. Satoru threw insults at you in his head as he took your arm in a tight grip, pulling you away from the courtyard. The silence between the two of you was thick with unspoken tension as he led you up the spiral staircase on the eastern side of the castle. His side of the castle. 
“Darling.” Your endearment came out as a protest as you tried to pull your arm from his grip. “Unhand me.” 
Still and all, he was silent as he dragged you along. It was only a short distance to his quarters, but he did not let go of you even once. You should see in his eyes that he was not amused by the friendly interaction between you and Suguru. 
“I said release my hand, at this very instant!” 
He remained like a taciturn man while ushering you into his quarters. Once he had locked the door behind him, he released his grip on your wrist and turned to confront you. His eyes grew dark and cold. A shade of blue that reminded you of lightning. “I would prefer it if he did not approach thee when I am not present.”
“Ah, see now he speaks!” Scoffing, you glared at him. “He simply tender’d his best to comfort me. Do not suspect it of aught else,” said you defensively, in a voice backed by your authority. Only now did he realize that the expression on your face had become austere. 
“Even if that were true, I have no need for another man—especially a knight—to comfort my wife.”
“A wife? A wife thou ask’d for divorce?” you mocked as his statement erupted a laughter out of you. A loud, boisterous laughter that screamed an insult to his face. “Thou see me as nothing but a bearer of children. Not a wife nor a person thou treasure with thy heart.” As you ridiculed him with humor on your face, your eyes had also grown deranged. “A mere pawn to thy chessboard is what I am.” 
Satoru was rigid in his stance. “I only offer’d to divorce thee if thou were unable to conceive. It is my duty as emperor to sire an heir. If the empress fails to fulfill that duty, I am compelled to find someone else who will—”
“An heir this, an heir that. Out upon it!” You expressed your frustration outwardly, throwing your hands into the air. “Go get thyself a concubine, then, and I shall get myself a lover to even the score.” 
A lover? Satoru was seething, yet his expression remained unchanged. He knew that you were taunting him, and still chose not to give you the reaction you wanted. “Then, I may be certain thou wilt have greater success at producing heirs with thy lover than thou dost with me.” 
“Certainly!” you bit back, anger rising in each syllable. “In place of my husband, mayhap my lover could beget me a child, proving to the entire empire that it is not I who is barren.”
Satoru's eyebrows shot up in response to the blatant insult to his fertility. His cold eyes narrowed, the rage within him intensifying. “If thou hast a child by thy lover, it will not discredit my fertility at all. It will instead bring into question my choice to have a child with a woman who is unable to be faithful to her husband.”
Your chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. “If thou seek thyself a concubine, then I shall seek mine own lover. That or naught at all.”
“Fie! I seek not a concubine,” he raised his voice, a spasm of irritation crossing his face. “Ill-tempered shrew! Many times have said it, and I say it once more. In thy failure to conceive, my will is to remarry another lady and make her the empress, not a concubine! The heir must be legitimate. Stick that to thine empty head!” 
Satoru could feel the heat of your stare burning into him, but his mind had suddenly wandered back to the previous conversation, and he could not help but wonder whether you would actually have an affair with another man. The thought of it infuriated him, but he pushed it out of his mind as you stared at him in blazing fury. 
“Need I remind thee that it is I who aided Your Majesty in ascending to the throne?” A cloud of warning settled over your features. “It is I who aided thee in staging a coup to overthrow thy tyrant parents. If the princess did not perish, would thou not be a madman. Now tell me, the only payment I require in return is thy love, yet hast thou paid thy dues?”
He scoffed at your words. You believe all you did in leading the rebellion was for the purpose of making him emperor? It was in your best interests to see yourself climb the ranks of an imperial power. And it was certainly not love you sought, but mere attention and validation. “My respect should be enough of a reward for thee. I took thee as my wife as a sign of my gratitude. Love was never a part of the deal.”
“Love is the very essence of that deal,” countered you. “Thou would be foolish not to think so.” 
In his eyes, love and affection were something you should receive only when you deserve it, not when you demand it. In his mind, you had grown too familiar with him, too spoiled by his presence. It was time he corrected this. “Thou art mistaken in thinking that love is a condition of our relationship. Never have I made any promises of love or affection. I only promised thee of attention and the prestige of being an empress. Have I not fulfilled this promise and made thee into an empress in its entirety? Love is a mere illusion conjured in thy imagination.”
“A tyrant, he reveals himself!” You pushed him off you, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus? Miserable villain! Usurping knave! Betrayer of blood, who masquerades himself an emperor under a false sovereign! I placed thee on that throne thou so wistfully enjoy. Thy power and authority have no hold on me.” 
The emperor's jaw clenched tightly as the empress's words cut through the air like a dagger. His pride was wounded by the venom of her words—words she had not carefully chosen, or perhaps did carefully choose, as she knew what words he despised hearing the most. His eyes flashed with jaundice as he fought to contain the roiling emotions churning within him. He wanted to lash out, to defend his honor and assert his authority, but he knew that such displays of weakness would only fuel the flames of dissent and discord.
Instead, he yanked your wrist again. “Forget not thy place, wife.” And then he grabbed your face with a rough hand, slamming you against the wall. “I may have promised not to take myself a concubine, but that privilege is not extended to thy behavior.” The tightness of his grip caused your cheeks to ache slightly, and he showed no signs of letting go.
“And what wilt thou do?” you spoke through gritted teeth. 
“What will I do? I will remind thee of thy position, wife,” he continued to speak in a menacing tone, “Test my patience as much as thou liketh. Go ahead and take a lover. Let us see how thy arrogance holds up when I force thee to bear his bastard child.”
You cussed him under your breath. “Is that jealousy?”
Yet, his countenance proved otherwise. “Not jealousy, as I am not possessive of thee. Bear whomever's child as thou wish. But once that child is born, I would never claim my title as the father. It would be deemed a bastard, its blood impure, and its existence an insult to my throne.”
“Press not the matters of infidelity to me when thou art the one in desperate need to put thy cock inside another lady.” You were bold enough to send him a look of disgust. “Thou art an emperor all due to me. Without me, thou art naught.”
In a fit of rage, Satoru exploded like a volcano spilling out its reservoir of hot, scorching lava. “You?! You think yourself the savior of this empire? Not by far!” There was a brief pause before he continued, eyes looking at you in unforgiving judgment. “I would have succeeded in leading the coup, even without thee.”
A snort escaped your lips. “Delude thyself that.”
“There are no guards nearby. No witnesses for thee.” The warning he had issued was laden with the implication of impending punishment, fueled by your defiance and vitriol, driving him to a boiling point. He seized your wrist once more, his grip tighter than before, as he leaned in close and spoke into your ear. “I could hurt thee right here and now if I wanted to, yet thou art at my mercy.”
“I need none of thy mercy,” you spat, taken aback as he pushed you against the wall. You could feel his breath fanning your neck as he leaned closer, inches before your face. 
Satoru's laughter rang out as you persisted in your resistance, his eyes narrowing with a mix of intrigue and anger. Your defiance only served to stoke the flames of his wrath as he began to speak, “Darling,” and made a mocking of your endearment, “Mayhap I shall ravish thee until thou art insensible.”
“Vainglorious dastard,” you spitefully replied.
He spoke no words for several moments, his breathing gradually intensifying as he gazed down at you like a toy he wanted to destroy. And for a fleeting moment, it seemed as though he was weighing whether to persist or not, but eventually, he made his choice, his voice adopting a more ominous tone with each word. “Thou wilt be ravaged.”
“S-Satoru!”
He pushed you towards his bed, and himself against you, pressing his body heavily atop yours. His breath became uneven with his anger overtaking his mind. Your whimper of fear filled him with sadistic satisfaction. “Yes, me, as thou said. No one else is here with us, and no one would bat an eye if they heard a scream.”
Your decision to pull his hair proved to be a significant mistake, though it was evident from your expression that you derived pleasure from it. You longed for it. You desired this wanton affection. This carnal desire. Lust bathed in your eyes as you observed him hastily tear his clothing, eager to feel the velvety touch of your skin against his. He wasted no time in undressing you as well, ripping away whatever obstructed your bareness, leaving you both exposed under the moonlight, indulging in the passions shared between lovers.
“I despise thee,” you declared, a hot moaning mess under him as he rammed his hardened shaft in between your legs where he himself was grunting at the pleasure of your tight entrance. In and out he went, and buried his face on your neck to leave purple marks all over your skin. “I-I despise thee!”
“I share those sentiments,” he jested, squeezing your breast in labored breaths before he sucked the rounded mass in his mouth. 
By the end of your long passionate exchange, he lay next to you, body soaked in sweat as he watched your sleeping face. The peace in those saintly features. Did you pass out? He could not be certain. Was he too rough? That, he was certain. It showed on the bruises that mapped parts of your body. He could feel a small tinge of guilt within him as he moved to pull the blanket over you, pressing a soft kiss on your lips. 
“Is this not love?” He opened his eyes when heard you laughing softly, eyes still shut but with a bitter smile spreading on your face. In a cold tone of voice, you whispered, “Thy love is tough, yet love natheless.” 
He knew it was not love, yet even if it was, you would soon be taken care of anyway. You would be exiled or worse, executed, should you fail to heed his warnings. He had to put his ambitions first and foremost before any form of affection he had of you. And if you truly, unconditionally loved him, you would understand why. 
That, that was how he defined love to be. 
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕𝐈
The castle’s dungeon was an… unsightly place. Aside from the centuries of brutal torture and grotesque deaths that occurred down under, it also housed the memory of Satoru shedding his hands on his kinsmen’s blood. That was the place where he had slain his father, his rotting head still mounted on the wall as though he was an animal that his son had hunted. A tyrant, undoubtedly. Satoru's penchant for brutality knew no bounds, but he certainly got it from his father. While you were responsible for the death of a little over a hundred people, his would account for more than thrice that number. 
As you descended further into the depths of the dungeon, the air grew heavy with the miasma of damp stone, blood, and decay. A putrid, sickening odor greeted your nose the more you entered. If not for the torches that flickered dimly along the walls, you would not be able to see at all, yet those torches casted eerie shadows that danced and swayed with each step you took. It was a frightening sight and definitely not for the faint hearted. 
“Help!” Your senses were assailed by the sights and sounds of the dungeon's grim inhabitants as you ventured deeper into the labyrinthine corridors. Gaunt specters lurked in the shadows, their hollow eyes gleaming with a sinister light as they whispered chilling secrets to one another in sotto voce. Some also cried of agony and despair, some had already fallen unhinged from being held in captivity for so long—it became a cacophony of anguished cries and tortured souls. “Help me, Empress! I plead mine innocence!”
“Step back, Your Majesty.” Suguru, who acted as your companion in this macabre trip, unsheathed his sword to protect you from being touched by the prisoners. He threatened to slash their hands with just a simple touch on your dress. 
“Empress! Empress!”
You deemed it wise to pull the hood of the cloak over your face, especially as the prisoners were starting to recognize you within these cursed confines. It would be troublesome if Satoru were to arrive soon and they began to scream your name in his presence.
“Empress, this dungeon is meant for souls as tainted as thine!” 
That statement proved itself to be spine-chilling and hair-raising, as such accusations could not be denied. Truthfully, your crimes far surpassed theirs. You belonged with the forsaken and the damned. You already accepted that all your sins and trespasses would bring you nowhere near heaven, yet you had blindly murdered people out of love for Satoru. That was how crazy you were at winning him over. And now, this is where it brought you. 
But you pressed on and continued traipsing through the dungeon until you could feel the presence of the oracle drawing closer, a beacon of hope amidst the despair that gripped the dungeon like a vice.
Finally, you reached the chamber where the oracle awaited. It was a figure cloaked in shadow at the far end of the room. And upon adjusting your visions, you could see that the oracle was an old woman, her white hair cascading like a waterfall of moonlight around her frail shoulders. Her skin, alabaster. Her eyes, ghoulish and devoid of color, and they seemed to pierce the veil of reality itself as she spoke in riddles and whispers that sent shivers down your spine. It was your first time to encounter such an unrealistic being. They said each word from the oracle dripped with the weight of centuries of wisdom and foreboding. She spoke of prophecies and portents, of trials and tribulations yet to come, her words weaving a tapestry of fate and destiny that hung heavy in the air like a shroud.
“Speak.” You stopped at her chamber, demanding to hear the prophecy she had said to your husband. “Tell me the Emperor’s prophecy.” 
Much to your ire, she gave you no response, still staring at the empty wall. 
“Speak!” Your patience was growing thin as each passing second would crumble any hope you had inside that Satoru was not a man who would forsake you, or even execute you, in exchange for his ambitions. But it had been twenty or so minutes and still there was no word from the oracle. “Have you no mouth? Art thou not a soothsayer?” 
Suguru sucked in a deep breath. Should his accusations of the emperor prove to be a lie, you swore to yourself that you would be the one to put him inside one of the iron maidens in the dungeon. Or that daunting Judas cradle if he preferred. “Your Majesty, it takes time to make her speak.” 
“I do not have that luxury of time! I cannot be seen hither.” You gave him a menacing stare. “On peril of thy life, Sir Knight, if this be naught but foolery, I will disembowel thee myself—”
“Beware! O Empress, keeper of fragile dreams!” 
The sudden burst of the oracle’s voice startled you, as they were far from what you had expected from an old lady. It carried an otherworldly quality that seemed to transcend her physical form. They were melodic and haunting, a chilling quality that hinted at the supernatural origins of her prophetic abilities. It was as though you were paralyzed by the time she spoke, like all your senses stopped working and all you could ever do was be forced to listen to her prophecy.
“For the Emperor's gaze wanders far,
As he seeks a lady of royal blood,
Ambition cloaked in the guise of lineage,
And in his thirst for power, lies your peril.”
As you listened, your heart bled terribly, knowing that the answers you sought lay buried within the enigmatic riddles of the oracle's words. The haunting words of the prophecy echoed through the dim chamber where you stood frozen, in a state of despair and disbelief and every awful thing in the world combined. The truth, once a lurking suspicion, now materialized before you and it left your heart in shattered pieces because you actually hoped that none of the accusations were true. So, how could Satoru do this to you? How could he betray you after all your sacrifices just to be his wife, your efforts just to receive his love, and your crimes just to satisfy his desires? Through your hands, more than a hundred souls had perished. You had shed the blood of many Christian souls for him. You had offered him your chastity and turned back on your reverence by profaning the word of God. You had worshiped him like a divine being. Yet so easily would he cast you away. No, he could not even offer the slightest pleasure of loving you genuinely, without any inhibitions, without anything in exchange. 
While your sacrifices were his definition of the “greater good”, his betrayal against you was his definition of a “lesser evil”. It was his “personal gain”, for your demise would have no profound repercussions on this empire. 
Undoubtedly, that must be his truest and utmost feelings for you. 
Suguru held you in his arms when you fell to the ground, your entire world crashing before you as the oracle revealed your husband’s plans. Your hands were shaking, trembling. You had trouble breathing. He was there to guide you out of the dungeon safely, even if you were to run and weep like a madwoman. But of course, you were not that insane yet. It was simply the ache in your heart that catapulted you into an abyss of pain. 
Satoru must not succeed in his plans. He must not come out victorious. The greatest revenge you could think of was brimming in the back of your mind, ignited by the visible spite you felt for him and his web of deceit. 
And back alone in your bedchambers, nausea overcame you and had you vomiting all over the floor. You retched the harrowing experience at the dungeons, disgusted by things you saw and heard, especially the treachery of your very husband. You were sick at the thought of him planning your assassination behind your back, like an ungrateful imbecile who only cared about himself and his vainglory. 
“Nurse!” you called, coughing out the foul taste of bile expelled from your throat. “Come hither!” 
“Anon, madam!” Geneva came to your aid as soon as you summoned her and tended to your needs immediately. At the time, you could not make out much of the clatter that was happening inside your chambers as you lay in bed with your eyes shut. It seemed that Geneva had ordered the other servants to clean out the mess you had created, while she took over in putting you to bed and making sure that you were warm and comfortable. She had no single idea about what was going through your mind, and had she had any hint about what it was, you could only imagine how bloody traumatized she would be. 
If Satoru wanted to dethrone and destroy you, then you might as well help him with it. He should no longer be surprised to see what good of a show you could offer for everyone in this empire. 
“Good madam,” Geneva called gently, after an hour or so, pulling you out of trance. “A physician is already—”
You lifted a hand, stopping her while you tried to get out of bed. “There is not a need for that.” Despite your queasiness, you had decided that there was no time to waste for this war of love and death against your husband. The sooner you planned things out, the greater your advantage would be. You had to have the upperhand in this. “Nurse, whither wander dost my husband?” 
The nurse guided you up and draped a lightweight shawl around your shoulders. “I ween His Majesty is undertaking a military inspection. Escorted by a ten or so knights goes he.” 
An inspection? It must be related to the discussion at the imperial court. Of course, if Satoru was planning to wage war against Astheryn, he had to review the troops stationed in different regions of the empire to assess readiness, morale, and preparedness for defense. He could deploy an initial 25,000 men in his heavy infantry should he find the need to go on an all-out war with the enemy, but those amount of soldiers would require the emperor himself to arduously test if they were ready for battle. Naturally, the inspection could last four or five days depending on his assessment. And in his absence in the palace, either the empress or the other trusted advisors would usually take on the duties that usually were his. 
This was the perfect opportunity to devise your plan; to prune the branches, weaken the trunk, and uproot the tree entirely. The branches began with his loyal advisors, which have already been filtered out as those previously appointed by his parents became his enemies. Enemies that died by his hands and yours, because those enemies were advisors who did not support Satoru in his method of seizing the highest throne, so he could not risk having rebels in the empire who would later work together to topple him from his seat. When he first rose to the throne, he had several assassination attempts aimed at him, typically by means of poisoning his food with arsenic, or hiring highly skilled mercenaries to slay him behind his back—all of those attempts were intercepted by you. And at the elimination of those disloyal to him, Satoru assumed that the current members of the imperial court could hence be trusted since they had not shown any hints of falsity for the ten years they had served him. 
The difference between you and Satoru was that he was easily beguiled because the noblemen treated him a lot differently than you. They were ass-lickers, trying to win him over for their own superficial benefits, while you knew who among them were simply supporting Satoru for the sake of not being executed. Out of fear, out of an inherent will to live, out of an obvious lack of choice—there was one noble who stood out among the rest. 
And it was the one whose presence was not the loudest. 
“Lord Nanami.” Upon mentioning his name, you entered the palace library—a grandeur chamber notable for its high ceilings, expansive oak shelves, and accoutrements—as he stood in front of a wood table, strangely interested in codices. “Well met.” 
The blond nobleman curtsied. “Your Imperial Majesty, ‘tis an honor to be in thy presence.” 
You gestured your hand into dismissing him, cutting to the chase because you were still unwell. And for all the necessary reasons, you had to have this conversation with him or else there would not be an easier opportunity with Satoru’s eyes and ears around the palace. Nanami was his most trusted advisor, not Maximilian as much as he fooled himself to think so. “What codex read thou?”
Nanami spoke cautiously, his eyes fixed on the codex. “Of some medical writings and scientific treatises. Rumors are circulating about a mysterious outbreak in a remote village in Constantia, a city within the grand duchy of Valoria. It seems to be an illness that is spreading rapidly with only a 10% chance of survival. I hear they are calling it the ‘Black Death’ due to the appearance of gangrene. Considering the trade routes, that city lies along the Veridian Sea, which is a path taken by the ship that trades metals and minerals with us. They engage in that route due to Constantia's involvement with the slave trade, boarding the ship bound for Caelum for the metals and minerals, while ferrying their slaves all the way to Astheryn, their largest buyer.”
As if the gods were with you! 
The topic pulled your sudden interest, for it was proving to be exactly what you needed for your plan to be successful. “An illness, thou sayest? What records have we about its origin?” 
“Valorians perceive it as divine punishment for their involvement in the slave trade. Another prevalent theory is the miasma it brings, attributing the disease to foul odors and noxious fumes in the air and in the environment in which they live. Personally, I suspect it originates from a bacterium resulting from interactions between humans and infected animals.” Despite lacking sufficient research to support his hypothesis, you acknowledged that Nanami's personal theory seemed more plausible. “The symptoms suggest to me that it is not airborne, contrary to what most people assume.”
You kept your eyes on him as he fixed his pince-nez. “What symptoms doth it have? And what conclusion have thee on what they are?”
“Your Majesty, a swarm of dead rats were found in Constantia a month ago,” he first informed, leading you to his suspicions. “Given the escalating tension with Astheryn and our increased need for metal to support our crafting and weaponry, I bade a dispatcher to send a message to Constantia due to their failure to supply us with the agreed-upon metal,” Nanami explained, showing a haze of regret behind in his eyes. “The dispatcher wrote back to me, stating that he is unable to return to Caelum promptly as he was experiencing chills, buboes, and gangrene. I presume he perished within days of arriving there.”
The moue you displayed on your face could not be stopped. “Doth His Majesty know? Of this and yon rumors in Valoria thou speakest of?” 
“His Majesty, the Emperor, hath not been apprised of the matter yet.” The blond nobleman looked at you solemnly. “‘Tis my duty to inform him as soon as he returns from his—”
“No, thou wilt not,” you commanded sternly, earning his surprise in return. “Thou wilt not speak a word to Satoru about this. Obey my word and thou shall be rewarded.” 
This was good. This was perfect for your plans! If it was true that such illness was spreading in Valoria, it would only be a matter of time until the plague reached Caelum and wiped half its population! You laughed heartily inside your head. It would be an utmost entertainment for you to watch Satoru’s downfall before your very eyes. If Astheryn was no threat to him, then a biolgical warfare would certainly destroy him. No one else had to know of your schemes but you.
Of course, the ever-so-noble Nanami was not easy to convince, especially if it was a clash between his duty and morality. “Empress, I fail to comprehend... Such matters couldst pose dangers to Caelum and its lands. His Majesty needeth be informed, as he possesses the authority to prevent the trade ship from reaching us. Astheryn had already long ceased their slave trading due to it. We must do the same.”
“And thou believe I lack the same power to issue commands as an empress?” As you raised an eyebrow at him, his stance became more apologetic. “Continue with the trade by hook or by crook. I will sign the permit and have the ship arrive us on Monday next as planned. Let us not allow rumors of an illness to hinder us from obtaining our required metal from the city of Constantia. As thou said, we need abundant supplies for our weaponry. We must seize this opportunity to bolster our arms. Do not mention this to His Majesty, and if thou dare, thou shalt face the punishment of getting thy tongue cut out.”
Nanami’s eyes widened. “But Your Majesty…”
You pressed your hand firmly against the table and asserted your authority over him. “I have ownership of a couple of remote islands near the outskirts of Caelum. Surely, thou art aware of them? I will instruct my father, the Grand Duke, to transfer one of the larger estates to thee. Additionally, I shall provide thee with a quarter of my jewels and 15000 celestas as a deposit. In exchange, I command thee to retire from thy position and never again engage in conversation with my husband.”
It was a fair bargain. The man was certainly considering that because not only would he secure his own land and riches, he would also be away from the dangers of the plague should it truly spread throughout Caelum and its nearby nations. He would be safe there in his own estate with enough money to retire early. “Empress… whatever it may be that thou art planning, this is treason.” 
“This or punishment is thy only option,” you stated, eyes burning with fire. “Make wisely of thy choice.” 
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕𝐈𝐈
The preparation for the New Year’s ball was arduous, and you spared no effort to ensure that every detail lived up to Caelum’s prestige. Because you had a generous budget allocation for this year's banquet, you did not hold back on the display of wealth, power, and culinary sophistication. The menu alone boasted elaborate roast meats, poultry dishes, pies, pastries, desserts, and confections, accompanied by a variety of wines and spirits to enhance the indulgent dining experience. More so, the smell of luxurious dishes inside the grand hall would be enough to water the mouths of the guests.
Invitations were extended not only to the nobility within the capital but also throughout the empire, welcoming all to partake in the feast as long as they came from noble houses. The theme, as initially requested by your husband, was black and silver to match the regalia, although this theme did not extend to the guests. They were free to choose their attire as they pleased, with the only restriction being to avoid the loud colors that represented Astheryn. 
It was well-known that Caelum’s nobility enjoyed flaunting their wealth and status among themselves, further highlighting the perception of the empire as superficial and governed by leaders who indulged in unethical opulence. While you may have denied such rumors, the truth remained: such ostentatious display of wealth was a century-long tradition upheld by the Gojou family to showcase the Caelum Empire as the wealthiest and most powerful across the central continent. If there was anyone Satoru should blame for this excessive extravagance, it should be his ancestors. Not you.
As the empress of this nation and the person who oversaw these types of celebrations, you saw it fit to wear an elegant gown befitting your status. You were dressed in a majestic gown of midnight black velvet, intricately embroidered with religious motifs and adorned with pearls and jewels that glimmered in the candlelight. A towering headpiece, resplendent with silver filigree and bedight with twisted crosses and angelic figures, rested upon your head as a symbol of your pretentious reverence for the church. You moved through the banquet hall with regal grace and elegance, a vision of piety and power, with your outward display of devotion masking the darkness of your thoughts inside. 
Next to you was your tyrant husband, whose attire was an obsidian velvet of the finest kind. Around his waist was a thick belt of black leather cinching the robe, its buckle emblazoned with the imperial insignia. His chest was bedecked with a chainmail hauberk, a display to his martial prowess and readiness for battle, while a silver mantle was draped over his shoulders, adding to his imposing presence. Upon his head sat a crown of gleaming silver encrusted with onyx and obsidian stones. 
“Long live the Emperor and the Empress! May Their Majesties reign be blessed!” 
Upon your entrance down the staircase to the Grand Hall, the guests offered their curtsies and salutations to you and your husband to show their deference and recognition to the imperialty. The nobles had their chance at a brief greeting with the imperial family based on their ranking, although Satoru showed little to no care for those at the lower ranks. Nonetheless, those of lower statuses devotedly sought to curry his favor and prove their allegiance to him. 
He is naught but a fool, you thought inwardly as you watched your husband dismiss a mere count. Satoru must not have realized that those he considered of lower ranking were often the most loyal to him. They were driven by their wish to climb the upper echelon of high society, therefore, they would go to great lengths to gain recognition from the emperor. Conversely, if push comes to shove, those of higher statuses would be the first ones to turn their backs on the imperial family, as they already possessed the wealth and status to sustain their own estates and exclude themselves from the rest of the empire. 
“Lords and Ladies, esteemed guests, and subjects of my realm,” Satoru spoke with gracious authority as he stood by his throne, looking down on the nobility before him, “I stand before thee on this very occasion, the commencement of a new year, to address the empire that rests beneath mine unwavering rule. As thy Emperor, I look upon the vast land that stretches beneath me, and aim to build great cities, forge mighty alliances, and expand our dominion to the farthest reaches of the known world. This eve, we gather not merely to celebrate the turning of the calendar, but to reaffirm the absolute authority that guides our great empire. Let it be known, plainly and honorably, that the prosperity of this realm is intrinsically tied to the strength of its ruler. In my hands, I hold the reins of power, and I shall steer this ship through tumultuous waters with an unshakable resolve. Those who seek to challenge the stability of our empire will find themselves met with the full force of imperial might. Let this banquet serve as a reminder—a celebration of the empire's indomitable strength and an acknowledgment of the consequences that befall those who dare to defy it. Raise thy goblets high, my loyal subjects, for we embark upon another year under the banner of unassailable authority.”
Satoru might be a terrible spouse, but he certainly was not a terrible emperor. He asserted his authority when it demanded him the most, and he knew well enough how to make his subjects cower in terror at every word he spoke. His speech was a simple warning not only to the nobles, but perhaps also to you, as he believed the prophecy pictured you as a traitor to his reign. 
Initially, you could say he was wrong and that never in a million years would you betray the same person you helped ascend the throne. But now that his resolve was to entirely eliminate you in order to succeed in his ambitions, you would not deny such grave accusations of treason on your part. He deserved a taste of his own medicine. It was only too bad for him that he had no knowledge of what you knew, and that was exactly why you were ten steps ahead of him. 
The sound of classical music served as a backdrop for the banquet, with the dulcet sounds of flutes, harps, and viols creating an elegant ambiance through the hall. The nobles worked on their usual slobber and socialization, usually reserved for recently debuted ladies to mark their own impressions within high society. The males were often there to discuss lands and politics or to be in search of their bride who would become the next noble ladies of their respective houses. The scene reminded you of your happy days as a once noble lady, a daughter of a duke, who was also the most popular and most eligible bride for Crown Prince Satoru among all of the nobility within the Caelum Empire. Back then, your biggest rivals were Lady Anastasia de Florentine and Lady Serena de Visconti. Both ladies came from esteemed houses and had therefore become a threat to your desire to be Crown Princess. In terms of beauty, talent, and elegance; they were definitely strong contenders. What they lacked was the wit, the cunningness in which you pride yourself with, as you ended up becoming Satoru’s choice as his empress. 
You were aware that Satoru spent his years as a prince dallying with other noble ladies, even courtesans, as he himself was fair in the face. And he was aware that the ill-fate that had befallen some of those ladies were due to your own cruel doing. You tormented any lady that vied for his attention. It was not until he gave in and got to know what you offered did he stop fooling around with random whores, deeming them unworthy to stand next to him as they served no purpose for him in the long run. You offered a better role to him than the rest of them, especially with your skill as a tactician and your family’s background in the military and weaponry department which all came in handy at the time of his usurpation to the throne. 
In other words, he knew how evil you could be since day one. And benefited from you because of it. 
“What plagues thy mind?” he asked, holding your waist and your hand as you both gracefully danced in pavane. His hair was neatly brushed away from his forehead tonight, with a few stubborn strands dangling on the side. “How awfully silent.” 
You stared at his bright blue eyes coruscating under the chandeliers, noticing how his gaze wandered to a noble lady. “It matters not to thee.” 
Satoru then narrowed his eyes at your coldness. “It matters much to me. What is this foolish act art thou playing at?” 
“A foolish act of playing the role of thy wife,” you answered briefly and sternly. “Dost this banquet satisfy thee? I have invited the empire’s most beautiful and most eligible ladies to be thy concubine. All of age and of noble background so worry not. Thou may choose anyone to thy liking, so the best be with thee.” 
The offense you caused was evident in his visage. As much as it entertained you, he was clearly enraged and on the verge of losing it. You already knew he would just remind you yet again that he wanted to remarry instead of getting a concubine, but it was too good of a reaction to pass up on. In fact, he stared at you blankly, speechless for a few moments as he processed the implications of your words. “This is the game you play?” he murmurs through gritted teeth, a hint of a scowl forming on his face. Conflicting emotions surged within him, a mixture of anger and hurt, yet ultimately he chose not to give you the reaction you seemed to seek. “I will humor thee. Where be these concubines thou dost speak of?”
You scoffed, and then laughed out loud to the point where it gained the curious stares of the nobles. “Wherefore, look everywhere and haply may thy eager eyes find them,” you answered in absolute joy. “That is all they shall be; mere concubines. If thou prefer a young and ripe virgin, that is also possible—”
“Do not get smart with me,” Satoru warned, grabbing a tight hold of your chin. The muscles along his jaw tensed. “Thou art but a petulant wench, a mere ornament next to my throne, lacking the wit and wisdom to comprehend the weight of imperial decree. The matters of remarriage are not simply to jest about. Know thy place, woman, and heed the consequences of thy impudence."
“Is that a threat?” You returned his glare, now feeling all eyes on the both of you. The thick air of tension permeated the hall like a cloud of incoming thunderstorm.
The emperor was not one to show weakness in front of public eyes, now displaying an authoritarian mien to his wife as he tightened his hold on your jaw. “Take it as thou may.”  
In defense to your wounded pride, you shoved his hand away and maintained a rigid poise. “Keep thy filthy hands off me, you usurping tyrant.” 
As tension crackled through the hall, a hushed unease descended upon the assembled guests. Murmurs  rippled through the crowd like a gathering tornado, and uneasy glances were darted between the nobles and servants as they witnessed the brewing disagreements of their imperial rulers. Some averted their gaze, feigning disinterest, while others leaned in with rapt attention, hungry for the spectacle unfolding before them. 
Meanwhile, Satoru was forcing a laugh at your chosen insult. Calling him a usurper really hit a nerve, as always. “Watch that foul-tongued mouth,” he warned once more, “Barren wretch!”
Approaching one of the palace sentinels halfway across the hall, you countered your husband’s heavy footsteps by drawing out a sword from a knight’s scabbard, thereupon making a swift turn to point the silver brand directly at his throat. You had not even realized that it was Suguru’s sword that you took. Deadly silence instantly spanned the hallway, and even the tick tock of the nearby clock had stopped because of the rising tension between Caleum’s reigning monarchs. 
But with one sword raised at the emperor’s neck, twenty more were directed back at the empress. Satoru’s loyal knights were quick to trap you in full circle to protect their sovereign ruler, forcing you to submit and restrain yourself from moving the sword any closer to the emperor’s throat. 
Unfortunately for him, being submissive was no longer in your repertoire. 
“You dare commit treason in mine own palace?!” Your husband’s venomous blue eyes bore holes into your skull—his mouth thinning in displeasure as you stayed unwavered by his imperious tone. “Thou art too brave for an empress consort!” 
“That is rich coming from a usurper himself!” you countered, satisfied by the spasm of irritation crossing his face. “Have as many concubines and courtesans as thou wish, but never disrespect me in front of my people. Treat me not as though I am lower than a mistress merely because I am childless to thee. Dare you not look down at me for I am an empress first ere I am thy wife.”
What kind of psychopath was that man, truly? 
You left the hall as soon as you said those prideful words, no longer wishing to hear what more intelligible things he had to say to you and of the preposterous scene in which you engaged. The more time you spent with him, the more you realized how much you had come to despise every fiber of his being. He was an ungrateful imbecile who would slay his own kin at the price of his ambitions. You may have started the quarrel, but he did not need to escalate it and put his filthy blood-stained hands on you in front of the nobles. His goal might be to put you in your rightful place, but he chose the wrong person to be his empress. That choice alone was the start of his tragic flaw. 
And with that disrespect would soon come his downfall. 
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈
Satoru struggled to comprehend the shift in your demeanor toward him and the words you chose to speak to him. He found your behavior baffling, as if you had lost touch with reason to be acting such a lunatic. You were out of your bloody mind! What could have driven you to act so irrationally, becoming incensed at every little remark he made? Was it solely because he expressed a desire to remarry for the sake of an heir and requested you to step down from your throne? No, your anger seemed to stem from deeper roots than mere marital disagreements. The hostility in your eyes said so, and it was the kind that mirrored the animosity he had witnessed in his ancestors towards their rival empire. That was the level of rancor you had of him. 
Or could this be the dreaded prophecy coming to life? 
Maximilian had been warning him that the prophecy was becoming truer day-by-day, and that the only way to ultimately prevent it was to banish you. It should be easy, truly, since Satoru had no problems slaying his own kin and hundreds of men. Why should another soul like yours cause such an impact on him? 
Yet, Satoru found himself unable to take that step. The reasons eluded him. What he despised, however, was your increasing defiance. You were no longer the submissive wife he had grown accustomed to. Albeit your inherently strong personality, you had never before lashed out at him, insulted him, raised your voice, or shown him any form of antagonism. You always let him win arguments and understood your place. Extravagant gifts like luxurious silk dresses, rare jewels, and exotic fragrances used to be enough to maintain your compliance. Were his gifts no longer sufficient to appease you? What more did you desire from him? 
Love? 
How preposterous. Love was no gift.
The emperor cussed under his breath as he slid the robe off his shoulder and stepped inside the tub, soaking his naked body under the warm fragrant water. He raked his fingers through his wet, white hair, leaning his head back as he stared at the ceiling. It never occurred to him that his eyebrows had furrowed as his thoughts of you had consumed him. A small part of him yearned to punish you for your recent behavior, while a larger part of him longed to pursue you. He desired to regain your trust and devotion, no matter how absurd it might seem to others. How else could he manipulate someone who harbored such animosity towards him? You had been easier to control when you saw him past his selfishness, turning a blind eye as long as he played the role of the loyal husband.
Fine, if it was disloyalty that enraged you so, then he would show you. In another way. That the loyalty you seek still possessed him somewhere. 
The subject of his plan stood in his privy chamber, assisting him as he bathed that morning. He had long noticed this particular servant's subtle attempts at seducing him, but had always chosen to ignore her as he never felt tempted to indulge. Instead, he found it somewhat amusing that she would willingly display her body to him in private settings like this. Perhaps, he mused, it was a message to him, indicating her desire to ascend to high society by becoming his concubine. She likely sought to escape her life as a mere peasant and elevate herself to the status of a noble lady. She may have even heard of his sexual escapades back then as a wayward prince who entertained different ladies in his chamber before he married you. That was probably why she wanted to take advantage of the carnal weakness that she thought still lingered within him. 
This strumpet. Satoru scoffed inwardly as he watched his personal maid pick up the bottle of lavender oil from the floor. She had purposely unbuttoned the top most part of her attire so that her voluptuous breasts would pop out like two balloons sitting on her chests. Appearance wise, it was clear that she had tried to put on cheap rouge from vermillion or beetroot juice, tinting her lips a brighter red than usual to complement her fiery, ginger hair. Her eyes were lined sharp from the soot, as though she was trying to resemble the empress’ seductive eyes. 
“Your Majesty,” she spoke in a seductive voice, finding her seat at the edge of the tub as she poured the fragrant oil on the hot water. She raised her skirt higher as an obvious attempt to show off her legs, and offered a better view of her huge breasts as she leaned forward. Now that she was closer to him, he could see her taut nipples peeking behind her thin layer of clothing. “Wouldst thou desire for me to bathe thee?”
His lips may have curled upwards into a smirk, but his eyes were as terrifyingly sharp as ever. “Dost thou seek death?”
Her eyes widened in surprise, feigning her innocence as she received his warning. “Nay, Your Majesty! I do not seek such.” 
“Why art thou so bold to think thy body is more desirable than the empress’?” He began to question her pride, and later put her stupidity into good use. She would be the perfect pawn for him to win his wife’s favor again. “My wife hath the most perfect figure I have seen in a woman, and thine is what? Thou boast of thy breasts that resemble a cow’s?” 
“I…” The servant stammered, clearly offended as she got up from her seat and attempted to mask the embarrassment that appeared on her face. Satoru raised an eyebrow and waited for her response, while she gathered her courage to deny his claims. “Forgive me, my lord, if I have offended thee.” 
Satoru shook his head in amusement. “What is thy aim, then, if not to inveigle me into bedding thee? I do not consort with trollops.”
Caught red-handed, she stumbled and bowed her head at the lowest possible level before him. “I beg thy pardon, Your Imperial Majesty! I merely sought to aid thee in the birthing of an heir. I am not barren unlike Her Majesty the Empress, and I can assure thee I will bear fruit even if thou only dost me once.” 
“Get on thy knees,” he ordered, stepping out of the tub and wrapping his bare body with a robe. “Thy know that to be certain?”
Her eyes pleaded for desperation to become his mistress. “Certain, yes! I am certain, my lord! And I will be a loyal subject to thee unlike the empress—”
“Pardon?” As if her words intrigued his ears. In a swift motion, he turned to the servant and looked down at her with his cold, scrutinizing eyes. “Unlike the empress? Repeat thy words with caution. Thou art maligning the most noble woman of this empire.” 
It did look like she found her way out of his criticism by directing his ill-temper towards his wife. “Your Majesty, I am not maligning thy wife. ‘Tis true that Her Majesty is having an affair with your commander of knights! Some days ago did I see the empress and Sir Suguru in an intimate embrace, running through the halls as though they wish not be seen!” 
The emperor's expression hardened at the servant's accusation, his brows furrowing with disbelief and anger. His hand tightened into a fist as he processed the shocking revelation.
“Is this the truth thou speaketh?” His voice was low, carrying a dangerous edge that hinted at the storm brewing within him. The accusation struck at the very core of his trust and authority.
The servant's gaze faltered under the weight of the emperor's scrutiny, but she remained resolute. “Your Majesty, I speak only what I have witnessed with mine own eyes. By my troth and by God’s bones, I swear by all that is holy, it is no falsehood.”
Satoru’s mind raced with conflicting emotions, but he showed none of his inward thoughts outwardly. Instead, he delighted in this ideal opportunity for him to deal with gaining your devotion again. 
“Undress thyself. I want thou bare and without any clothing," he said, his voice cold and measured, “and thou shalt remain in this chamber until my return.”
With that, the emperor swept out of the privy chamber at once, leaving behind a stunned and apprehensive servant. She believed it to be her sign of good luck. Of good fate. That she now found her place as a mistress to the highest ruler of this nation. She could not believe her destiny as she triumphantly unclothed herself, peeling every fabric off her body with excitement as she imagined the things the emperor would do to her upon his return. She would definitely have to deal with his wrath since he just found out that the empress betrayed her, but she was willing to have him use her body and let his anger out on his adulterous wife. An emperor with a distracted mind would be her ticket to being impregnated by his child. Soon, she would be his concubine, she would be the mother of a future emperor. 
She would never again have to suffer as a servant! 
Upon the sound of footsteps nearing the privy chamber, the servant provocatively sat at the edge of the tub, displaying all of her body to him and him alone. “Your Majesty, I am ready for thee.” 
“Art thou?” 
Horror washed over the servant’s face, her heartbeat increasing tenfold as she saw the empress sending an icy stare into her as she stood by the privy chamber’s entrance. Behind her were her ladies-in-waiting throwing their judgeful stares at the naked servant, surrounded by knights who seemed to have come under the emperor’s orders. The emperor! There he was, appearing behind the empress, kissing her cheek and encircling her waist, whispering to her that the servant had attempted to seduce him and had even accused his wife of infidelity. Satoru's actions struck the servant as reminiscent of a child tattling to his mother. He adopted an air of artificial innocence, as if his only intention were to win the empress' trust.
“Send this harlot to the throne room,” he commanded his knights, his voice loud and clear. “Let it be known that there will be consequences for those who dare to deceive their emperor.”
At the throne room, you found yourself seated at the elevated throne next to your husband. This was a place in the castle where the trials of the accused were often held, and now the accused kneeling before you on the lower part of the hall was a lowly maid which Satoru had claimed to have seduced him and besmirched your name. 
Did he think you were stupid? You knew what his ulterior motives were. You were aware of his covert schemes, and that his sole attempt at orchestrating this entire spectacle was to use the maid to regain your trust and obedience out of gratitude. He was clearly at an unrest ever since you had been defiant to him and he was doing the best that he could to make you submit to him. He was desperate to show you that he was on your side and believed that by reporting the maid's advances, he could convince you of his loyalty. Satoru must truly underestimate your intelligence if he thought that such acts would restore his control over you. But for the sake of a good show, you decided to play along. 
As customary, the emperor presided over the trial, while the accused maid stood before the imperialty, her eyes downcast, while whispers could be heard through the assembled courtiers.
Satoru announced her sin in a commanding yet measured voice. “Maiden, thou stand accused of attempting to seduce the sovereign and spreading slanderous falsehoods regarding Her Majesty's honor. These are grave charges that strike at the very foundation of our empire.” 
The accused maid trembled slightly but remained silent, her gaze fixed on the ground. She seemed to be having a battle in her head, realizing that she was being used by the emperor’s cruel game. What did she expect of him? You rolled your eyes. Satoru was a known tyrant. She would never last a day being his mistress, much less a concubine. You were the only lady in this empire that could handle him.
The emperor then turned to you as he continued with his speech. “As for thee, my wife, thou hast been accused of a betrayal that, if true, would bring shame upon the imperial family.” He paused, his expression grave yet thoughtful. “Therefore, I shall entrust the judgment and punishment of this matter to thee. Thou alone knowest the truth of these accusations, and it is thy virtue and integrity that shall guide our course of justice.”
You wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was. Now he was even entrusting the maid’s punishment to you? His tactic obviously consisted of two things: 1) giving you the authority to impose punishment on the accused would make you liable for the consequences tied to the matter 2) if proven not guilty, you would have to face the shame of your misguided punishment. Because Satoru was not certain that you were having an affair, he was putting you on the spot to decide the punishment you would give based on your conscience. 
Either that or he may have simply intended to convey trust in your judgment by allowing you to administer punishment. This could be a gesture aimed at restoring your sense of authority and influence within the palace. However, given the complexities of your relationship and the context of the situation, it was likely that his motives were more layered and multifaceted.
“How dost it strike thee, Empress?” Satoru asked in a strangely calm mien. “Mayhap we can give her ten or twenty whips? Have her sent out to the dungeons or the west tower?” 
Oh, did he assume you were not capable of being creative with punishments? You were not one to shy away from brutality like him. In fact, you had something better in store for this servant of his. 
The courtiers listened intently, their eyes locked upon you as you spoke. “It is my judgment that the maid shall be subjected to the punishment befitting her transgressions.”
A hushed murmur erupted through the assembled crowd as they awaited the empress’ decree.
“Firstly, the maid shall be paraded through the streets of our capital, stripped of her garments and bearing the shame of her actions for all to see. Let her walk the path of humility, that she may reflect upon the consequences of her deeds.” Your cruel words carried a weight of overwhelming gravity as you announced the first part of the punishment and proceeded to the next. “Furthermore, the maid shall be delivered unto the custody of our executioners, who shall mete out the final aspect of her punishment. Let her be subjected to the pear of anguish, that she may atone for her sins and serve as a warning to all who would dare besmirch the name of their sovereign.”
The courtiers exchanged somber glances, trembling out of fear at the severity of your inhumane judgment. Even Satoru himself was shocked at the lengths you had chosen to take just to punish a lowly maid. Why was he surprised? He, himself, was entertained at the usage of the brazen bull, roasting his enemies alive as a punishment. The pear of anguish was not even as severe as his usual choices, as its purpose was to have a pear-shaped instrument be inserted in the maid’s vagina, and expand it to the point of internal injuries and mutilation. 
“No! No! Your Majesty!” she cried, her words choked with emotion. She quivered in terror and fell to her knees. “I beg of thee, have mercy upon me! Spare me from such unspeakable agony! Forgive me for my transgressions and the harm I have caused. Pray, grant me the chance to repent and seek forgiveness. I shall never again show myself to thee. Prithee… Empress Y/N… Spare me from this horror, I beg of thee!”
Her voice echoed through the hall with her desperate plea for clemency amidst the shadow of her impending doom. In the silence that followed, your eyes caught the guilt spreading on Satoru’s face. His blue eyes were, for a second, wide and horrified. But he was quick to compose himself and keep yet again a rigid face. 
“Very well.” Satoru gestured to his knights to take the maid away. “Do as my wife says.” 
“My liege, this is preposterous!” In the midst of the tense atmosphere, one advisor, a voice of dissent, stepped forward, his expression grave and his tone measured. Lord Maximilian was only intending to address the emperor, completely ignoring your right as the empress. “Your Majesty, the Emperor,” the advisor spoke respectfully but with conviction, “I humbly beseech thee to reconsider this severe course of action. The pear of anguish, in particular, is a device of unparalleled cruelty. The punishment is more severe than the crime committed!” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I propose a more measured punishment, one that upholds the dignity of your sovereign without plunging us into the depths of brutality. Mayhap a period of confinement or hard labor could serve as a more merciful yet effective means of retribution. This way, Your Majesty, we demonstrate both strength and compassion that define thy sovereign rule.”
“Compassion?” you scoffed, humored by Lord Maximilian’s little speech. His pretentiousness was truly out of this world. He was obviously against it because he refused to see your authority over the court restored. He had not even a single idea that you were already aware that he had been conspiring with your husband to execute you. “Thou speak of compassion and mercy, Lord Maximilian, when this empire had seen the ruthless perish of a thousand Christian souls under your counsel to the emperor. Is that not irony? What about the body of his lordship, Count Stefano, that thou order’d to be skinned alive? Or what about the corpses of men speared on pikes by the Tiber River? Now, tell me about that compassion.” 
Satoru, stuck in the situation, scanned the throne room and searched for his voice of reason. The man who always stood his ground between good and evil. Lord Nanami. Yet the man was nowhere to be found. “Is Lord Nanami hither? Call him forth to me.” 
“I am afraid not, my liege,” spoke one of the courtiers, “He had left Your Majesty a letter advising of his immediate need to be on a sabbatical. Cited he no reasons as to why.”
“Is that so?” your husband’s face contorted into confusion, while you were exchanging glances with Suguru, who seemed slightly aware of your participation in Nanami’s sudden absence. Howbeit, he spoke no words about it. 
And no one else also said another word, therefore, leaving Satoru to move forward with your decision on the punishment. If he was smart, he should see that your decision was not just a mere punishment to the maid but as a warning from you, that he was not the only person in this empire capable of being a tyrant. That you, as devoted as you used to be, could also be cruel if you wanted to be. 
You ignored the maid’s screams of terror as the knights took her away. You kept a dignified appearance and walked out of the throne room, followed by your ladies-in-waiting as they engaged in gossip about the maid and how she had always spoken badly of the empress. You wished you cared, but truthfully, you were far too nauseated as you walked through the hallway heading towards the western wing of the castle, hearing your husband’s voice calling your name. 
What did he need? Your gratitude? Your declaration of love? Your pledge of allegiance? 
Frankly, you cared none, as your extreme nausea eventually had your visions blurred, and your body fainting on the marble floor. 
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐗
Your head ached.
By the time you opened your eyes again, it was already past noontide. No, it was evening, was it? You were lying in Satoru’s bed while its owner was engrossed in a conversation with a physician. You briefly recounted the events before you were carried here, remembering the trial at the throne room, and you fainting while walking back to your side of the palace. 
“Art thou certain?” 
“I am certain Her Majesty is with child, yes.” 
“How is that possible? Tried have we for eight long years.” 
“We owe this blessing to God, my liege. Thy wish for an heir hath come to fruition.” 
You were… with child? 
You could not believe it. As the whispered revelation reached your ears, the news brought you a swirl of emotions, for the delicate life growing within your womb just challenged the very foundations of your plans. A child. A baby. A life was growing inside of you! It was not just any other life, but an heir to the throne! A byproduct of you and your husband!
But what about your revenge? 
You had a moment of introspection as you imagined yourself at a crossroad of destiny. Should you persist with your plot to topple your husband's rule, or should you embrace the newfound responsibility and safeguard the legacy that had taken root within you? The precipice of your decision would depend on Satoru’s reaction to this matter. Your decision would fall upon his level of trust in you. 
For eight years, you had always wanted to carry his child. You had always dreamed of bearing his heir. This was the very reason why the prophecy existed in the first place, and now that you were pregnant, should that mean that he would no longer find the need to remarry and execute you? Should that mean that the prophecy was false after all? The oracle was a heretic through and through and he never should have consulted with her to begin with!
“My wife.” The gentle caress of Satoru’s voice soothed your aching head. It only took you then to realize that the physician had already left you two alone, and now your husband was sitting on the edge of his bed, touching your cheek. “To think,” he mumbled, his voice tinged with wonder, “that our union has borne fruit at last. An heir to carry forth this legacy of mine.” 
He was joyous. He was surging with happiness which was glowing within him, the kind of joy that you had never seen before as he embraced his beloved wife and shared the news. For a moment, your heart melted and you were ready to forsake the grudge you carried in your heart as he proved his reaction to be genuine. His eyes sparkled like jewels as he placed a soft kiss on your belly, then moving to press his lips onto yours. 
You wanted to cry. You wanted to tear up as never in your life had you received this much level of affection from your own husband. He had never looked at you with such adoration and respect for the longest time since he had been with you. No, this was the very first time he had truly acknowledged you as his wife. 
“Am I no longer useless unto thee?” you asked, carrying a hint of sadness on your tone despite smiling at him. “Shall I no longer be called a barren empress?” 
Satoru solemnly shook his head and kissed your hand, your cheek, and your lips. “No. Each tongue that rises ‘gainst my wife shall fall.” 
You were uncertain whether it was you or him who pulled each other for an embrace, but the gravity that brought you to two together was of mutual force. He held you in his arms tenderly just as you enveloped yourself in his warmth. So this is how it feels like to be loved? You were in complete bliss. You were free from the emotional torment that—
Knock, knock! 
The abrupt knock on the door interrupted the intimate moment between you and your husband, diverting his attention to the intruder who dared disrupt the special moment. Satoru, no doubt, was already thinking of potential punishments in his mind as he summoned his attendant to enter. The attendant conveyed that a knight sought an urgent audience with him, but what could be so urgent at this dead of night? 
The intruder, to your surprise, was none other than his knight commander Suguru. 
“Suguru?” Satoru faced him with a more lenient countenance, “Speak briefly.” 
The knight commander glanced at you before he knelt on one knee and looked at the carpeted floor, delivering a message that required urgent and utmost attention. “Your Imperial Majesty, we have discovered a group of knights clad in silver armor, mounted upon war horses lining the city’s border. My men have identified the potential invaders as the Aurorae Heavy Cavalry of the Astheryn Empire.” 
“What?!” Just like Satoru’s explosive reaction, you were also surprised by the news. You knew Astheryn was ready for war, but you did not expect them to move so rashly. Satoru knew he was right to conduct a military inspection a week prior, because now, in spite of his growing temperament, he was also mentally prepared for an all-out war. “Those Astheryn bastards! How many are they?!” 
“Estimated at about 6000 units, my liege.” 
Your eyes widened in disbelief. Thousands of foreign soldiers stationed at the border of the Caelum Empire was undeniably an invasion. The audacity of this act, carried out without any prior communication to Satoru, no wonder fueled his anger like a volcano on the brink of eruption. It was a blatant disrespect to him as an emperor and to his lands as an empire.
“Double the numbers of our infantrymen and dispatch them to the border!” Satoru's voice carried a low growl, his hand instinctively reaching to massage his temples as he pondered a course of action. “They must comprise our most elite unit. I demand these men be vigilant and alert at all times. Anyone caught sleeping will have their eyes gouged,” he ordered, his tone reflecting the gravity of the situation. His eyes held fury in them as he silently paced back and forth in his chamber. However, just as Suguru made to depart, Satoru's hand halted him mid-step. “Better yet, remain here and stand guard over my wife," he commanded, his voice taut with resolve. “I will issue the orders to the army personally and confer with my chief tactician.”
Your husband had already left before you could even stop him. His presence, in a mere blink of an eye, was gone as he stormed out of the chamber, yelling out, “That bastard Toji will die by my hands. How dare he!” 
And now you were left with his commander of knights, Suguru, who looked at you in concern as you made an attempt to get out of bed. He was quick to catch you in his arms, guiding you to walk carefully. “Is it true?” you asked, face inches close to him. You could feel his hand on your waist, and the other guiding your arm. “Astheryn’s invasion?” 
“Empress, it is imperative that thou remain within the safety of His Majesty’s chamber," Suguru advised, his fox-like eyes seemingly enamored by your face. “Thy well-being is paramount, especially now. I see now why thy radiance has been so pronounced of late.”
You smiled at his words. "And what might thou be implying by that?"
“That our beautiful empress bears the heir to the empire,” he spoke softly. “This is a direct contradiction to the prophecy. Art thou pleased, my lady?”
As you nodded, you felt Suguru placing a gentle kiss above your hand, still kneeling before you like a true, loyal knight. He looked at you with a gaze filled with the desire to protect. His chivalry was evident in his demeanor toward you, the most beautiful lady of the empire. Unbeknownst to you, Suguru had long been captivated by your beauty. From the moment he first came to your family’s estate to train as a knight, he harbored a wanton desire for you. Yet, he struggled with his feelings, torn between his admiration for you and his loyalty to Satoru, his friend and lord. How could he? He should punish himself for having a mere attraction to the emperor’s wife. 
“Suguru, I expect thy loyalty to me until the very end,” you interrupted his reverie, bringing him back to the present. He held your hand tenderly, and your waist affectionately. “Can I count on that from thee?”
Before the knight could respond, a fit of unhinged laughter echoed through the chamber. There, your crazed husband walked in, his sardonically joyful eyes wide with paranoia. “Ha ha ha! Absurd! Utterly preposterous!” His loud voice reverberated through the walls, his mind now free of the on-going invasion and was instead evidently consumed by the scene before him. “My wife, thou jest, surely? Suguru, tell me this is some jest! Loyalty, indeed, I have full faith in thy loyalty, but this... the maid’s accusation. It is true after all?!” 
Immediately, the knight commander moved away from you and scrambled to kneel down at the furious emperor. You yourself could not hide your growing anxiety, but it was best to keep calm and explain the situation to your husband properly. 
“My liege, ‘tis not what it seems,” Suguru swore to your husband, who was now laughing manically. 
“Ah, a conspiracy unfolds!” Satoru’s eyes darted between you and his friend. “I see it now, the hidden plots, the whispers in the shadows. My wife and my loyal knight, plotting against me! Speak, reveal the treachery!” 
You shook your head, maintaining your composure. “He speaks true. There is no affair—”
“Fie, you wicked bitch!” By this time, Satoru was throwing a tantrum, kicking the nearby console table and throwing the first vase he saw. 
Suguru rose, his voice pleading, "Your Majesty, I..."
“Get out or I will eviscerate thee in front of her!” Satoru's words cut through the tension, and Suguru, after a moment of hesitation, took a deep breath and left, casting a worried glance at you before exiting. It was clear that Satoru was in a state of manic denial, with his laughter echoing through the chamber like a haunting refrain.
Alone with him now, you observed his demeanor, noting the same scene of past trauma in his laughter. It was reminiscent of the night his sister perished for committing suicide—a portrait of a man on the brink of madness, masking his torment with deranged laughter. Each step he took towards you carried danger. “This... This child thou carry is a bastard, is it not? That child is not mine!”
You shot him a look of disbelief, refusing to entertain such absurd accusations. “Thou art speaking folly!”
Enraged, he seized another vase and hurled it across the room, the sound of shattering porcelain ringing through the chamber, though you maintained your composure despite the sudden chaos. You must not act weak in front of a tyrant. At this rate, he could kill out of impulse, but you were careful not to pull the trigger.
“My wife thinks I am lost in a mire of absurdity?” Satoru’s laugh rang in your ears again. “Conniving bitch! Tell me, this child thou carry, what do I do with that awful thing? Shall I cut thy stomach and pull the thing out myself?”
Slap! A resounding slap, sharp and clear, graced Satoru's cheek as his words drew tears from your eyes. Despite the welling tears, you mustered enough courage to respond. “If thou question the lineage of this child, then is that not a question to thine own fertility? Dost thou deem thyself barren, unable to sire thine own bloodline? If so, thou hast long scorned me for lacking an heir, yet now thou cast doubt upon the child that I carry. Useless, thou have call’d me. Now, useless, thou call thyself! A barren emperor, unable to secure his own legacy, is that what thou perceive thyself to be?”
“Hold that tongue, thou impudent wench!” With a rough hand, he grabbed your arm and tightened his hold so much so that it would leave bruises. “Lo, here stand I, grappling with a war that hath the power to shape or shatter mine own legacy, whilst mine own wife doth gad about like a wanton whore?”
A whore? You laughed, as equally maniacal as him. No, a lot worse than him. How foolish of you to think that your husband was someone you could trust your life with? You could not believe that you almost let your guard down in front of him after you learned that you were carrying his child. Yet here he was, spouting nonsense like an absolute fool. He only judged what he saw, not analyzed what he was yet to know. This was exactly why Emperor Toji would always be a smarter ruler than him. 
“I am thy wife, and I have stood by thy side through thick and thin. I have shared thy lows and highs. I have seated thee at that very throne! Therefore, I will not dignify such insults with a response.” Each word left your mouth with gritted teeth. This was your future, peeled off for your eyes to see. No matter how much you cared for him, no matter how loyal you were to him, no matter how much love you offered to him; you were naught but a woman ready to be thrown at his disposal. It hurt. Truly, it hurt. And because you loved him, you tried holding onto the thin string of hope that he was true to you. That even if he could not love you, he still trusted you. That was the foundation of your relationship from the beginning. Trust. And that will be your ultimatum to him. So, with a shaky voice and tearful eyes, you asked, “I require nothing else from thee but this… dost thou trust me?” 
His answer was a make or break. 
His answer would determine whether you would carry your plans out or not. 
Because if he said yes, then you would forsake everything and be loyal to him without his unconditional love. 
But if he said no, then there was no point at being his wife when your role would always be easily replaced. 
Satoru’s stolid mien was an answer in itself, because his blank gaze and unsympathetic expression sent your heart to the deepest layer of hell. “No,” he declared, “I never have and never will.” 
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐗
Four days. 
Or perhaps five? 
The days blurred into an indistinguishable haze since your husband's decree consigned you to the confines of the west tower. Unlike the dungeon, reserved for commoners and lower ranks, the western tower housed nobility and imperial captives. Though superior in amenities, it remained a prison in essence. There was only a solitary window within the cell that offered a small glimpse of the world beyond. The view was barely within your reach as it was too high up for you to be able to see outside. 
You were treated no less than a rebel. Accused of treason. Accused of infidelity. Your reputation as an empress was tarnished, excluded from social circles, excommunicated by the church—at least, these were some of the things you have heard from the passerby, the attendants who do their nightly rounds in the west tower. The attendants and guards themselves no longer respected you, although you could still sense that they were cautious around you. Afraid that if the emperor were to change his mind and release you, that you would remember their faces and get back at them with brutal repercussions. 
It was entertaining, truly. It was even more humorous to watch the attendant serve you with soup and bread day and night. Judging by the distinct odor, the soup was laced with arsenic. Someone was definitely trying to poison you, but you were certain that it was not orchestrated by Satoru. Not him. He was too stupid to conjure such a plan as it also contradicted his penchant for more direct and violent approaches. If he wanted to assassinate someone, he would rather crack their skulls or slash them in half. He was too bloodthirsty to kill someone by means of poison. 
So that left you with one person: Lord Maximilian. 
Your father, the Grand Duke, promptly sent you a letter after hearing that you were locked up in the west tower, assuring you of his efforts to persuade Satoru to release you and clear your name, demanding your innocence be proved to the empire. He also cautioned that it might be a considerable amount of time before your husband could address your case, given the pressing matter of the Astherean army's invasion on Caelum's borders. In your head, you knew Satoru was having a hard time dealing with the military conflict without your counsel. It was your mind that staged the coup, leading him to his succession 10 years ago. Now, without you, he was faced with difficulty. He did not even have Nanami by his side to guide him through the war. 
You laughed. Good for him. 
On the 7th day, your father wrote again. This time, he informed you that there was a ceasefire between Caelum and Astheryn. Apparently, Caelum was struck by the bubonic plague. Astheryn withdrew its cavalry out of fear of losing their soldiers from the Black Death, while Caleans were left to suffer from the spreading disease. The citizens were going mad, panic was ensuing, and there was food shortage everywhere. No one knew what the cause was nor how to cure it. He said those who had caught the disease would fall to their deaths in a matter of days. 
You laughed again. That is my own doing, father. 
Three days later, another missive arrived from the Grand Duke, informing you of his recent audience with Satoru. Your father let you know that the Emperor still held a lingering wrath towards you, but he confirmed that your trial would be scheduled shortly. The letter also conveyed unsettling rumors of your potential deposition, suggesting that Satoru entertained matrimonial negotiations with Princess Katarina from the Kingdom of Ellesmere.
You laughed even more. A remarriage, just as he wanted. 
On the 14th day, your father did not write. He visited you on the western tower himself, somberly informing you of Suguru’s demise. He revealed that the knight commander had been thrown in the dungeon on the same day you were taken to the west tower, but he was treated more harshly. He was tortured, mentally and physically, until he met a gruesome death. Your father chose to spare you of the details of Suguru’s tragic fate. 
At that, you could not laugh. No, in fact, you cried silently in your cell that night knowing that an innocent man died ruthlessly because of you. 
What a hypocrite you were! 
The burden of introducing the Great Plague to Caelum, resulting in the deaths of countless innocent citizens, rested on your shoulders. Yet, your moral boundary seemed to be drawn at Suguru's demise?
You found yourself engulfed in laughter once more, disregarding the puzzled stares from attendants and guards alike. They may have deemed you mad, yet perhaps, madness was the only sane response to the chaos of this world. Why? What was there to be ashamed of? Life was but a game of strategy, a grand chessboard where the king, though less agile than the queen, would always be the last man standing.
Seated in a corner that night, your laughter mingled with tears, a mix of raw emotions unleashed, as the echo of approaching footsteps reached your ears. The flickering torchlight casted a shadow upon the wall, revealing the silhouette of a tall man escorted by two knights.
“Y/N.” 
When Satoru visited you on the eve of your trial, you never expected him to call your name so tenderly. What you were anticipating was his usual torrent of anger and scorn, and you found yourself bewildered by the odd shift in his demeanor. He then entered your cell and crouched before you, his blue eyes seemed almost softened by sympathy.
“Thy trial is scheduled for to-morrow,” he spoke deliberately, though you avoided meeting his gaze. “I have a proposal for thee.”
You remained silent.
“Even if thou have betrayed me, I will extend mercy unto thee, out of gratitude for aiding mine ascension to the throne.” The irony of his words were a slap to your face, hurting your ears as you listened. “I require thee to step down from thy throne with humility, dispose of the bastard thou carry, and live a modest, solitary life in the countryside. There, an estate awaits thee. I expect thee to live quietly, and await the time I will visit thee. Thou will remain as my mistress, though it will not be officially acknowledged.” 
As the emperor's words were spoken, the empress's laughter erupted with a wild and bitter sound that echoed through the chamber. Your eyes blazed with defiance, lips curled into a scornful sneer.
“Ha ha ha!” 
Satoru’s lips tightened a fraction, his body turning into solid ice as you let out an ear splitting horselaugh. 
“Ha ha ha ha!” 
His eyebrows furrowed in anger. “Empress!” 
“Fool!” you spat, your voice laced with derision. “Thou think to offer me mercy while chaining me to a life of servitude? Thou speak of gratitude while stripping me of dignity and autonomy. Thy offer is but another prison for thee to keep me as a pawn!” Your laughter turned into manic fervor, fueled by rage and disillusionment. “I will not bend to thy will, nor will I accept thy false benevolence.” 
In the end, Satoru was still a hubristic man. An ungrateful, hubristic man. An ungrateful, hubristic, foolish man. 
“Art thou aware of thy current standing?!” He was livid. Oh, he certainly was. 
Yet you? You smiled. You offered him a beautiful, sarcastic smile. “No soul in this empire shall love thee except for me! All are foes to thee, except for me! I alone have loved thee for thee. Ponder upon that, my misguided husband, for in thy quest for dominion, thou hast forsaken the one who loved thee sincerely.” 
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𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐗𝐈
“We gather today for a matter of great import: the trial of Her Majesty, the Empress, accused of treasonous infidelity.”
As the trial went on, your thoughts drifted back to the day of the maid's trial. Then, she knelt beneath the throne, facing the scrutiny of the court as she protested her innocence and pleaded for mercy. You, once seated upon the now-vacant throne, regarded her with detached interest. The irony of the reversal was not lost on you. It was true that you would pay the price of your wrongdoings, and be rewarded for your kind deeds. In this life, you let your greed get the best of you. You let your love for Satoru blind you. If you were ever to be reborn, you vowed to never again allow yourself to be ensnared by such folly for it led you to nowhere but misery.
How funny is that? These nobles were all here to watch your trial, while a war and plague were happening outside of the castle’s walls. 
“—may our deliberations be guided by the righteous light of truth. Empress Y/N, you appear to be in jest. This trial is a serious matter to thee.” 
You received the courtier’s look of disapproval, while the others were judging your sanity. 
“Let her be,” ordered Satoru, who looked tired and resigned. You could hear his sigh even if he was a couple meters away, and his eyes glowed in sad blues as he stared at you, as if it would be the last time he would ever see your face. 
Perhaps that truly was the case, and you made no effort to fight against it nor did you appeal to prove your innocence. There was no mercy begged for, no forgiveness sought for. It was because you saw no purpose to live this life. He must have sensed your true feelings inside as he watched you from afar, but Satoru still seemed like he was looking for a way to get you out of the situation. Instead of imposing a tyrannous punishment on you, he was clearly attempting to make you innocent. To give you a benefit of the doubt. All of the courtiers and advisors, however, were in complete disagreement. They knew that the emperor held a soft spot for you, but they did not know that his only purpose was to keep using you. 
Honestly? Your mind was growing weary. The trial dragged on endlessly as Satoru struggled to mitigate your punishment. Not until…
“His Majesty, Emperor Satoru, is consulting with an oracle,” you declared, silencing the entire hall with your revelation, ending this ridiculous trial once and for all, “Deep in the dungeon, he hides the old lady. The emperor of this nation is a supporter of heresy, therefore, he is to be subjected to inquisition.” 
Your accusations, indeed, were grave. An eerie and portentous air filled the throne room as Satoru himself was stunned and wide-eyed. Surprise contorted his features after he was exposed. His lips quivered and his jaw muscles tightened, and anger soon smoldered all semblance of composure on his saintly face. 
Caelum was a deeply Catholic nation and the Catholic Church, as an institution, did not endorse or recognize oracles as legitimate sources of divine revelation. Practices associated with oracles, such as divination, fortune-telling, and consulting spirits, as forms of superstition were heretical. These practices were considered as attempts to circumvent the authority of the Church and seek guidance from sources outside of the orthodox Christian belief.
Individuals suspected of engaging in practices associated with oracles, particularly if those practices were perceived as challenging the Church authority or promoting beliefs contrary to Catholic doctrine, could be subject to investigation, trial, and punishment by ecclesiastical authorities, even if they were members of the imperial family. 
Thus, in your revelation, Satoru was now subjected to a much more serious, unforgivable crime than you. Because he would be at war with the Church. 
And not only would he be at war with the Church, but also with Astheryn, and the Great Plague all at once. 
Of course, Satoru intensely denied it and tried to turn things around on you. He was going haywire as your ‘accusation’ caused a commotion amongst the courtiers who whispered and murmured in shock and disbelief. As the emperor, his voice held the greatest authority in that hall, and so he became furious at you, claiming to everyone that you were diverting the situation to seem innocent, denying the existence of an oracle in his castle, and that you were to be publicly executed for the crime of commiting lèse-majesté by slandering the emperor’s name. 
Finally, the tyrant was back. 
You were sick of his sympathetic gazes. 
If your husband knew you by heart, then he would know that your sole intention at declaring his fortnightly consultations with the oracle was because you wanted to anger him, and in turn, get a punishment that would be enough to free yourself from his grasp. That was the perfect approach. 
But of course, Satoru might be slow in that department. All he could see right now was a traitorous wife whose malicious intent was to undermine his authority and topple him from the throne. An enemy. That was what you had become to him.
On the day of your public execution, your father cried. And so did your ladies-in-waiting. The rest were eager to see you beheaded, all with keen eyes as you were ushered at the public square, drawing in a large crowd of nobles and commoners alike. 
Who would have guessed that you held such notoriety?
The words, “witch!”, “traitor!”, and “evil!” were thrown your way as you were guided by two knights towards the center of the scaffold. With a rosary on one hand, and a bible on the other, you looked at your father. He should be safe. You had written him a letter, telling him to bring the family and the servants to a remote island away from Caelum. As for you, your end was near. 
With your head pressed against the block, and the executioner raising his sword, your impending doom was imminent. The imperial sword he carried, you recognized, was Satoru’s personal and favorite sword. 
“Your head will be severed swiftly,” said the headsman, “Any last words?” 
Your eyes found the sky as your lips curled into a sinister smile. “Citizens of Caelum, I will soon meet thy Emperor in hell!” 
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐗𝐈𝐈
A month has passed since your execution. 
Instead of having your decapitated head impaled on spikes atop the city gates, Satoru ordered your corpse be buried at the tomb. The location was not revealed to anyone else. The citizens also did not question his choice. 
The emperor was secretly grieving the loss of his wife. 
Everyone knew. They were all aware that the emperor was mourning over the empress despite your betrayal of him, yet all of them turned a blind-eye on it. They were afraid that the emperor would punish anyone who would remind him of you. 
Was this still not an act of love? 
In fact, no, not everyone knew. Not everyone were aware that one of your lady-in-waiting swore to him in oath that you never had an affair with the knight and that the child you carried was not at all a bastard, but his. It was Satoru’s heir. It was his own child. It was the future Emperor of Caelum.
Because of his misjudgment and his paranoia, he lost the only woman who truly loved him. 
Now the empire was in shambles. Satoru could not deny that your lack of presence in the castle had a much more devastating impact than the plague that wiped half of Caelum’s population. His advisors were of no use when it came to military tactics. Nanami, the most competent of them all, was nowhere to be found. The soldiers have been struck by the Black Death, lowering his total heavy infantry down to a quarter of its nominal full strength. 
The plague had spread rapidly, causing widespread devastation and food shortage, and as the death toll rose and communities were decimated by the plague, desperation set in. There were villages that had more dead people to collect than living beings who survived. It was a state where all were affected no matter what their noble rankings were. 
People tried various remedies and treatments, often turning to religious practices such as prayer and penance in hopes of appeasing divine wrath and stopping the spread of the disease. Plague doctors also swarmed the streets with their dark canvas robes and beaked masks, implementing quarantine and treating infected individuals. 
Satoru secluded himself in his chamber, both day and night, observing the devastation of his empire from the castle's highest vantage point. Desperation ran rampant, driving citizens to seek sanctuary within the palace walls. Initially, the emperor permitted entry only to the highest-ranking nobles. However, as word spread of the palace offering refuge, lower-ranking nobles and commoners clamored for entry, prompting Satoru to order the complete fortification of the castle walls.
The stench of burning bodies permeated the air as the castle became besieged by the diseased, seeking entry but met with the fierce flames intended to ward off infection from the emperor and his staff.
“What say the Kingdom of Ellesmere?” Satoru, who had been suffering from high fever, muscle pain, and skin lesions, was accompanied by a state of paranoia as he spoke to Lord Maximilian. “The marriage negotiations with that… that princess. What says them?” 
“My liege.” He bowed, apologetically. “They no longer wish to proceed. As we are struck by the plague, King Kalleon IV thought it would be of no benefit to be in alliance with a fallen empire. Furthermore, there is something that thou must be aware of, Your Majesty.” 
The emperor looked at his advisor.
“The trade ship that caused the plague to spread throughout Caelum was…” the old man paused, wary of the ruler’s reaction, “It was approved entry by the late Empress Y/N.” 
Ha ha ha ha!
How twisted of you, indeed. Where does he go from here? Satoru was sick, genuinely sick, as he heard the clamor of diseased individuals rioting outside the castle walls. Inside the palace, his own people were also engaged in their own chaos. He was at a point where he was too fatigued to react violently at his wife’s crimes. What did Maximilian want him to do, chastise you? You were already gone, and you have left him with the most profound revenge than any punishment he could ever fathom. 
Satoru found himself consumed by a maelstrom of emotions. He was seeing red from his visions, and seeing black from his discolored skin. Gangrene. Buboes. Chills. All he could do now was laugh at his misery. He grappled with the haunting question of how he arrived at this wretched juncture. What deeds, what choices, led him down this harrowing path of suffering and despair? 
Lord Maximilian did one last attempt at coaxing the emperor. “My liege, the prophecy…” 
The mere mention of the prophecy, however, ignited a primal fury within him. His words filled Satoru with a seething rage and he entertained the notion of silencing Maximilian's voice forever, drawing his sword and executing a swift slash on his advisor’s neck. 
That damned prophecy! 
That, that was what led to all of this! 
In the depths of his suffering, Satoru had experienced the last stretch of the disease entering his body. He was vomiting, crawling on the floor, reaching for the window in hopes of seeing his empire for the last time. But eventually, his weakened body had him submit to his forfeit. 
In a matter of minutes, he would soon find death and earn his place at the ninth circle of hell. 
In a matter of seconds, he would soon be named the most hated emperor in history, just as you like it. 
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄
In the aftermath of the plague and the cessation of war, the once-mighty Caelum Empire lay in ruin, its rulers, named the most evil Emperor and Empress in history, overthrown. The remnants of the imperial lineage crumbled under the weight of their tyranny. Rising from the shadows of despair emerged the newly crowned Emperor Yuuta, the only remaining lineal heir of the Gojou lineage, who returned to Caelum from his exile with a fervent commitment to restore and rebuild. Known for his fairness and compassion, Yuuta pledged to rebuild the empire, to heal its wounds, and to usher in an era of lasting peace. With each brick laid and each decree issued, he sought to honor the memory of those who perished and to ensure that the horrors of the past would never be repeated. And so, under Yuuta's steadfast guidance, the Caelum Empire embarked on a journey of restoration, its future brightened by the promise of a new dawn.
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
-> NEXT PART
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relicarios-de-dor · 4 months
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I think it's important to say that I lived in a time when Tumblr was a no man's land, that being said, if for some reason you want to poke around in my more archaic posts, you'll see some really bizarre things. following….
I'm a woman, a chaos, born in the 90s, pansexual, currently in a long-term relationship with another woman. I'm a neurodivergent person, chronically d3pre5sed, anx1ous, b0rd3r, b1p0l4r, with unspecified t.a - explaining: I had a no eating period and when happened i puk3d; then I had a very compulsive period and so it has been; su1c1d@l (but medicat3d nowadays), a cvutt3r (now I get tattoos ¯⁠\⁠⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠⁠/⁠¯), and I recently discovered that i can say "religious tr4uma"✨ instead os explainig why i don't like religion/church people. ps: I'm not talking about faith.
This year I graduate as a psychologist! lol ⁠ (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠;) I love my profession but it scares me so much… anyway〈("≧⁠∇⁠≦⁠).
Before medication I felt more creative, I used to write and draw more easily; I like art therapy, I miss the liberating feeling. I still draw from time to time but nothing original and I rarely write - this year I'm going to try to do it again little by little.
I have 2 dogs and one is very old, she held me to cry when I needed it, she knew exactly when I wasn't well and she didn't let me go… I rly don't deserve this 4-legged angel.
I like dorama, kpop (annyeonghaseyo Stay imnida!)+, yuri/yaoi ⁠(͡⁠°⁠ₒ ͡⁠°⁠), talk abt sexuality and kinkies ⁠(͡⁠°⁠ₒ ͡⁠°⁠); YES, PLS ASK ME ABT PSYCHOLOGY, I'LL LOVE TALKING ABT IT!!!, I love rambling abt random questions of existence, criticizing patriarchy, male chauvinism, sexism, white men and Karens embarassing themselves just cuz it's free, anyway…
If you read all of this, identified yourself in some way and followed me… pls PLEASE feel free to come and talk - it will take me a while to answer you cuz I'll panic, but I'll answer! promise! (◍⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠◍ ⁠)❤
So making clear: I am NOT pro an4/m1a, sh, any other things related to the mental health conditions I mentioned above (⁠٥⁠↼⁠_⁠↼⁠). The things that are written here are personal vents.
welcome!
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the-sage-libriomancer · 5 months
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finally started Inuyasha! i haven't seen this series since i was like twelve, so while watching the first episode i kept getting smacked in the face with nostalgia. i literally haven't thought about this show in years. it holds up surprisingly well considering it's from the 90s.
thoughts!
-first off, the animation is super good! i was bracing myself for a lot of still shots and stilted animation since i know the animes of my childhood usually don't hold up well, but honestly it doesn't show its age nearly as much as i expected. i forgot how much i missed Takahashi's style...looking back she was a big influence on my art and i somehow forgot all about it T.T
-the dubbing wasn't that bad either, though i definitely didn't notice all the blatant sound editing when i was a kid lol. characters who are supposed to be cut off mid-sentence will conspicuously pause so the next person can speak, and the way the audio is overlaid onto the animation makes it soooo obvious that it's not the original audio. also, i completely forgot that Kaede says "ye" instead of "you" (which i assume is a translation of her somewhat archaic way of speaking Japanese, but considering that's the only "old-timey language" thing they give her it kinda comes off as a verbal tic lmao).
-holy hell the theme song made me so damn nostalgic—the second it started playing, i immediately felt like i was twelve years old again. literally the only part of the song i remembered was the first line ("I want to CHANGE the WORLD!") and that was IT, that was the only thing that would play in my head when i thought about the show. the ending song and the ad break animation also triggered the nostalgia...i saw that clip of Inuyasha snatching the jewel and the twangy sound cue accompanying it so often that i could've sworn it was burned into my brain.
-the title of this episode is so funny akjdhdjsahdjsadhjas. "The Girl Who Overcame Time...and the Boy Who Was Just Overcome" i hope that's a direct translation bc it's absolutely hilarious.
-at one point Kagome refers to the time period as "the Japanese Middle Ages" and i almost laughed out loud. it's so weird to remember that your average usamerican anime watcher at the time (myself included) wouldn't know what the Edo period was.
-seeing Inuyasha (the character) in action for the first time in decades brought back memories: my twelve y/o self thought he was a PUNK BITCH and she was right lmao. i really love his actor—Richard Ian Cox captures that bratty teenage boy cadence perfectly, and his line delivery is great. i can't wait to see more of him!
-speaking of good dubbing, i really like Kagome's actress! Moneca Stori plays her well, knowing when to give some attitude and when to play it earnest instead. the banter between Kagome and Inuyasha was sooooo much fun and i'm looking forward to seeing them get into some real arguments ashjahsjadhasjdhasj.
in conclusion: i'm really excited to rewatch this series! the first episode absolutely rocks and i have a good feeling about the rest of the show. i can't wait to see Sango! and Miroku! and Shippo! and all the other characters who i have definitely forgotten about!
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olympianbutch · 2 years
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Heyo, just popping in out of curiosity!
I've perused a bit of your blog and would love to hear more about your approach to myth. Do you take mythos literally, metaphorically, or somewhat in between? What historical factors do you consider in your interpretations? How does your understanding of the myths affect your relationships with the gods?
I haven't seen your approach widely expressed before, so I thought I'd ask!
I won’t lie, anon, I’ve been eagerly anticipating an ask like this! :) For the sake of time, though, I’m going to be limiting this post a great deal by discussing my approach to Greek mythology specifically as it’s seen via the medium of literature. The reason being that the visual arts and epigraphic record are beasts in their own right.
When I’m working through Greek mythological texts, I always begin by separating ancient material from modern retellings. Most Greek mythology books I’ve encountered are a mishmash of unsourced Greek and Roman works, which is doubly frustrating when the authors don’t distinguish between periods, regions, or genres.
I then begin sorting out all the primary sources I’ve collected. Not every antiquitous source is created equal. For instance, a writer from the Hellenistic or Roman Imperial period isn’t going to know nearly as much as Homer or Hesiod when it comes to Archaic Greek religion. After sorting the material by period and region, I break it down even further by establishing the genre. Mediums like comedy and tragedy have to be handled carefully since they satirize and exaggerate ancient Greek mythology.
That said, where does Greek mythology even come from? If you were to ask the ancient historian Herodotos, he would tell you that “I think that Homer and Hesiod were older than I by 400 years and no more, and they are the ones who created the divine genealogy for Greeks, gave epithets to the gods, distributed their offices and their crafts and marked outward appearances” (Histories). Quite a few modern scholars are loosely inclined to agree with him. Walter Burkert tells us how “the Library of Apollodoros to a large extent repeats the Hesiodic Catalogues” (Greek Religion, pg. 6) and that this clearly shows an impressive level of mythological continuity from the Archaic to Hellenistic period.
This, of course, is a very broad, generalized explanation for the origins of Greek mythology. Virtually all ancient Greek historians agree that the gods and their mythologies existed long before either Homer or Hesiod. If anything, Homer and Hesiod’s works are culminations of an oral and religious tradition that had been well-established long before their time. Like hundreds, if not thousands, of years before their time.
Unlike ancient theatrical takes on Greek mythology, the Archaic Epic Cycle and Hesiod’s Theogony are said to have been divinely inspired by their respective authors. I’ve already touched on divine inspiration as it’s seen in Homer, so let’s focus on Hesiod.
Hesiod tells us “Here are the words the daughters of aegis-bearing Zeus, / the Muses of Olympos, first spoke to me. / ‘Listen, you country bumpkins, you pot-bellied blockheads, / we know how to tell many lies that pass for truth, / and when we wish, we know to tell the truth itself.’ / So spoke Zeus’s daughters, masters of word-craft, / and from a laurel in full bloom they plucked a branch, / and gave it to me as a staff, and then breathed into me / divine song, that I might spread the fame of past and future, / and commanded me to hymn the race of the deathless gods, / but always begin and end my song with them” (Theogony, 24–34).
Hesiod goes out of his way to tell his listeners that the Muses—the goddesses of ultimate memory and divine inspiration—know how to tell many lies that pass for truth, as well as the truth itself. This line has been instrumental to me and my worship. I’ve always interpreted it as them saying that they don’t necessarily tell the ultimate truth, and instead tell us mortals what the gods want us to regard as true. This leaves room for free thought and regional mythological variations. These variations are sometimes regarded as contradictory, but “These kinds of discrepancies must be admitted and respected because polytheism, . . . has the potential to adapt the figures of its gods and to modify their representation according to the requirements of the specific context and using its own specific language” (The Hera of Zeus: Intimate Enemy, Ultimate Spouse, pg. 297).
I think that Panhellenic legends are especially unique in this regard because they suggest that, sometimes, the gods want us to know only one consistent truth. An example of this would be the abduction of Persephone by Haides. Regardless of what genre or medium you look to, there is not a single antiquitous source discussing the beginnings of their marriage that excludes her violent kidnapping.
Turning back around to me and my approach to Greek mythology, I don’t consider myself a literalist, nor am I exactly an allegorist. When it comes to mythological literalism, I don’t think it’s possible. Dogmatism is inherently incompatible with the open system that is polytheism, and we know too much about religious variety to be able to take such a strict approach. I’m not an allegorist either, because taking a metaphorical or archetypical approach is similarly limiting and doesn’t account for the Greek cosmologies or aetiological myths. Allegorism can also be used to explain away the gods by reducing them to simply being metaphors for phenomena in nature, which I don’t at all agree with.
I don’t use Greek mythology as a means of supplementing my understanding of recorded history or science. It’s hard to explain how exactly it plays into the many different aspects of my life and thought process, but that could be because my religion permeates all facets of my being. I can say with certainty, though, that mythology has informed my understanding of the divine genealogy of the gods, their epithets, offices, crafts, and outward appearances.
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argumentl · 3 years
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The Freedom of Expression, radio version - Ep.56, Oct 2016 - Jumping on the Halloween bandwagon, Futon maker-turned-fashion maker.
Kaoru starts by talking about the Instagram campaign, saying that practically every photo they uploaded has recieved more than 50 likes, so he's in a posistion where he has to send a sticker to each one. He encourages listeners to keep sending in photos if they want to recieve a sticker. Kaoru is looking at the Instagram page as he speaks, and he mentions that there are a lot of people wearing the yukata that he designed. He supposes they wore it on purpose for this campaign, but he stresses that there is no need to wear that yukata just because he designed it. Wear whatever you like! There are even people who sent in pics of very elaborate nail art. Although many of the fans attending the lives were wearing simple Dir band tshirst, Joe says that some of them did remake them by cutting them in different ways to make them more original.
Kaoru starts his first news topic next, stating that he chose this story because its currently Halloween season. This is the topic of completely unrelated products jumping on the Halloween bandwagon. Packs of eggs, nattō, even ramen are being included in Halloween campaigns run by supermarkets and convenience stores. The article Kaoru found shows a pack of eggs featuring a jack'o'lantern design on the packaging. He can understand sweets and snacks getting in on the Halloween theme, because they are part of the tradition, especially in America, but nattō etc  seems a bit odd. Joe sad he also saw cartons of apple juice featuring Halloween pumpkin decorations, which he finds a bit puzzling. Is it pumpkin flavoured apple juice? He adds that its probably a result of producers wanting to sell as much as possible in light of the fact that Japanese tend to be easily swayed by limited seasonal products. He asks Kaoru whether he buys these kinds of limit seasonal items and Kaoru says he used to buy them, but these days he doesn't bother. Joe says he often does fall for these products. He always travels to this studio in Tennōzu by train, and when he passes through Shinagawa station he sees tonnes of 'limited time only' offers in the stores there. As he loves sweet food, he tends to end up buying a lot of stuff. He does realise, however, that the same store will be selling the same stuff as 'limited', even weeks later. It never ends. This is what makes him think that Japanese are helpless against 'limited' sales.
Kaoru says he thinks no one keeps this kind seasonal packaging anyway. He wonders whether people would be interested in limited releases of CDs with Halloween themed cover jackets. Joe thinks there may just be some positive people out there who want to buy this stuff and savour the packaging.
Kaoru comments on how Halloween celebrations seem to get more and more energetic with each passing year. Joe agrees, and says the streets in places like Shibuya are a sight to be seen at Halloween. He asks Kaoru if he celebrates. Kaoru laughs at this suggestion, and confirms that he does not.
Joe remembers Halloween from the time he used to live in America. He recalls kids trick or treating, and seeing spectacular Halloween parades in the streets. Kaoru says that when Dir were touring the states a few years ago, they were actually there at Halloween, but he hardley noticed anything about it. There were one or two people dressed in costume walking the streets, but that was about it. It was different from what he imagined, although he does admit, it could have just been a result of the location they were staying.
They then go back to point about areas like Shibuya and Roppongi going crazy at Halloween. Joe says he actually dressed up, and walked the streets in costume in Roppongi 2 years ago. He was invited to a Halloween party there by a foreign friend of his, and won a load of Halloween goods while he was there, so he put them on, and subsequently went home in them. He fit right in while he was still in Roppongi, but after getting off the train at Yoyogi and nearing his house, he didn't feel so great being dressed up.
Kaoru comes to the conclusion that jumping on the Halloween bandwagon doesn't do any harm, although he personally would still not buy a Halloween themed pack of eggs. Joe says things like this could be a catalyst for people to find out more about the cultures and traditions of other countries.
Tasai joins them next and introduces some news about how the long-estblished futon maker 'Nishikawa' has started making fashion. They have teamed up with Uniqlo designer Takizawa Naoki for the project. Tasai thinks the clothes produced look amazing and really wants listeners to have a look online for them. He explains that before the Age of Civil War in Japan (1467-1615), there were no futons. People just slept on folded up kimonos. The business 'Nishikawa' has been operating since just after that time period, for 450 years, but realised that in this age they need to challenge themselves if they are going to continue to stay in business, hence this move into fashion. Tasai repeats his plea for listeners to check out these items and explains that the selling price is much less than the materials are actually worth. He asks Kaoru and Joe what they think after seeing photos of some of the pieces. Joe says its an important thing for Japanese traditional customs be adapted like this to widen their scope. Tasai explains that animal print, like leopard print or wild cat print, has traditionally been revered in Japan as a form of respect towards an animal's power, and people have worn it wishing to become as strong. The same principle applies to warriors traditional helmets, which were designed to be symbolic of powerful animals. Tasai himself also learned this info about animal print in Japanese culture after reading this news. Kaoru says he is interested to see how fashion evolves from now on. Joe asks Kaoru whether he would consider collaborating with this futon business. Kaoru says he's not sure about that, but if he buys any items, Joe should copy him and buy the same thing (This is a joke about the time Joe arrived at the studio accidentally wearing the same outfit as Kaoru). Joe says if Kaoru wore a wild cat print outfit, he would be cheap and wear underwear with the same print (*I think*) - lots of laughing at this.
To finish, Kaoru plugs his upcoming tours, including the date at his home town again, which is at the venue Amashin Archaic Hall in Amagasaki city. He also announces plans for a  two day date during the Mode of Kisou tour which will consist of male only on day one, and female only on day two. Joe and Tasai say they both want to attend, but care will have to be taken to ensure Hiranabe doesn't turn up at the female only live. They had best not tell him about it. Joe suggests telling him to go on a business trip or a trip to Atami etc on that day. 
Songs - Dir en grey/24ko cylinder, Björk/Pluto, Dir en grey/Kūkoku ni kyōon.
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belle-keys · 3 years
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I Love Matthew Fairchild aka Incoherent Thoughts about Chain of Iron (2021) by Cassandra Clare
I made one of these rant-rave reviews for SJM's book so check it out if you want, no pressure tho lmao.
Aight so I finished Chain of Iron last night and OMG I HAVE TO YELL like I loved it sooo much like yooo, I have a lot to say. I know the book is new so... beware for spoilers plebs.
Also context: I been reading the Shadowhunter books since I was 12 and I'm 19 now *insert dead emoji face* so yeah, I'm just so happy rn with where the Chronicles have come and the fact that they’re still ongoing *insert uwu face*. I remember when in like 2014-2015 or something when Cassandra Clare teased that Will and Tessa's kids' generation was gonna get a trilogy set in Edwardian London, loosely based on Great Expectations, and holy hell? I think that was perhaps one of the best days of my life considering how much I adore The Infernal Devices (that trilogy really changed the way I see YA literature... don't ask cus I won't shut up about it) (also yes I read TMI and loved it too but there's a “generation gap” between TMI and the other Shadowhunter books stylistically so don't ask me about that either cus I also won't shut up).
Anyway, shoo from here if you want a critical essay on Chain of Iron. I'm not providing that, this is just me raving here for the fun.
Listen... I want the bulk of this to just be two main things: The Matthew Situation, and then all the literary and judeo-christian meta aspects of it.
BUT I ALSO NEED TO TALK ABOUT EVERYTHING ELSE SO FRICK LET'S JUST START WITH THE OBVIOUS SHIT LIKE THE PLOT AND WHATEVER
Okay, the plot and writing and shit, let's get that out of the way:
The WHOLE Jack-the-Ripper-esque ambiance was just sooooo good man wow like I did not expect the book to take this cold turn but it worked so well. There was such a contrast between Jamie and Cordelia's warm little house and then the cold winter and the stabbings and shit and it felt like a nice little callback to the actual Ripper phenomenon that preceded them and a nod to the Whitechapel Fiend story from Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy.
Bitch OFC that whole thing with Wayland was a set-up like nawww that was too easy to spot and I get why Cordelia feels like shit about it.
Dawg Lucie was just the Among Us imposter here in that my girl was just venting and sneaking around with dead people and I was like nooooo girl run, don't deal with Fade this is a set-up THINK ABOUT JULES LUCIE THAT'S LIKE YO GREAT-GRANDSON *sobs* but yeah anyway my girl has death powers she gonna kill some bitches next book.
You see that confrontation between Lilith and Belial? MASTERPIECE DIALOGUE like this was the point within which I was just like "yo is this the book of Genesis or a YA Fantasy novel" like when Lilith said "I may have been cast out but I did not fall" like??????????????????? I YELLED she did not have to END Belial like that. What a bad bitch.
More on Lilith and Belial... "You, who brought nations into darkness? Shall I finally be able to tell the infernal realms you have gone mad, lost even the image of the Creator." HAHAHHAHAHA SHE SAID "YO BELIAL GO GET SOME THERAPY AND GET OFF MY ASS" LIKE??????
Ughhhh yasss Clare has improved writing diverse characters in this book compared to in The Dark Artifices in my opinion... I'm not gonna expand on it cus ain't nobody got time for that but like, I enjoyed how she wove Persian poetry and tales into the story and the way in which she writes Cordelia and Alistair. They're not caricatures of Persian people but rather multi-faceted beings who also happen to be Persian and I appreciate that. Also, Alistair and Thomas and Anna and Ariadne were just so fun and interesting to read as coupbles but also as individuals. She really higlighted diversity in a very natural manner. All I need is a hijabi character and I’ll die a happy woman lmao.
The level of META man like the references to Classics and art (I swear, she might have compared Matthew to angels out of Caravaggio AND Rosetti AND Boticelli paintings and I Am Living For It) and just all the quotes from holy books and shit omg I love it here like you really feel catapulted into the time period, she draws reference to external art and philosophy so well and I feel like she upped the notch on it in this book (didn’t know that was possible but it was the prose is BEAUTIFUL, archaic, but not pretentiously so). No, like the characters live in their OWN worlds of literature and art and history in the way we are living in THEIRS. They quote Wilde and Milton while we'll quote Clare. It's awesome.
This is an unusually structuralist take even from me but: I like the way the milieu social of the book, i.e., the high society Edwardian circles and their values, have a direct influence on the plot. James and Cordelia got married because society’s values essentially forced them to, not a demon. Cordelia abandons Jamie at the end of Iron because her shame as a woman in society and fear for her reputation made her, not a demon. Thomas and Alistair can't be together solely because of how Alistair tarnished the reputation of the Fairchilds and Lightwoods by using the horror of infidelity against them. Issues relating to marriage, gender roles, etc, stemming DIRECTLY from the time period rule the sequence of events to the same degree as the epic fantasy aspects (demons, Princes of Hell, the lore itself) do and I LOVE that dear God above.
OKAY THE GOOD SHIT LET US TALK ABOUT CHARACTERS AND SHIPS (N.B. but imma discuss Matthew and the Fairstairs situation separately below this portion):
Alistair's redemption arc: No, cus Alistair's redemption arc is honestly amazing. He really did change and it's not like his betterment as a person was linked to any one heroic deed but rather he simply decided he wanted to be better especially for his family and he decided to become a proper protective son, a caring brother, and an amiable friend. He fully owned up to his Malfoy tendencies and apologized without expecting forgiveness. He shows how he cares in the little ways and omg it's so sweet and tender. I really do want him to love himself now and be embraced by Matthew especially and the rest of the Thieves.
Dawg Lucie and Jesse are so funny to me like it's so hilarious how this girl fell in love with a whole ass ghost that no one else knows about like HHAHA. Are Lucie and Jesse my ult ship ever? Nah, but it's nothing to do with Clare, it's just that their relationship happened pretty quick and feels quite like something epicly romantic that Lucie herself would write. I just like slow burn and friends-to-lovers the most from Clare. To be honest part of me just wanted Lucie to not have a romantic arc all together but like, it's all good, I'm not complaining.
Okay Grace- like yooooooooooo I never hated her yunno. She has been abused and isolated all her life. It's not that she is a bad person, but rather that she does not know what being a person even entails. Can't even say she's a “doll” of a person cus she's never even been pampered like one by her family. I really started understanding her motivations since when they gave us her half-childhood with Jesse. I want better for her but cmon can she REALLY be saved???
GRACE X CHRISTOPHER *pretends to be shocked*... Okay, sometime in the middle of the Dark Artifices series some big brain put together a very thorough family tree of the families and like, it clearly showed that Grace and Christopher got married so like, lmfaooooo, I knew this was coming one way or another, but the journey to this ship is more important than the destination. Like in a way Christopher is such a cute baby lamb that it makes sense he'd end up being immune to her Grace-ness when he's just a cute little Einstein boiii. Like this is just so funny to me cus he's so oblivious to social conventions while she makes the milieu social her entire life so OFC it's gonna work. Like, this is such a worlds-colliding trope like just Give It To Me.
James and Grace - aw mannn Jamie just had me fricking wanting to hit a wall every two seconds cus like yooooooo every single time I think he and Cordelia are gonna stop being emotionally-constipated spouses, Jamie says some kinda shit like "omg me and Daisy are just friends uwu" like DO I NEED TO HIT YOU?????????? See I can't blame him for not slamming the door on Grace's face even tho he totes should- Jamie is so cerebral and kind that even if Grace wasn't using the enchantment on him, I think he would always be soft for her even if it isn't in a romantic way. There's just so much miscommunication cus like he said "Thank God" when she broke off the engagement with Charles and lowkey embraced her but it also wasn't his fault cus it wasn't even romantic BUT OFC IT LOOKED HORRIBLE TO CORDELIA like James literally never told the woman at least once that he loved her so OFC she thought she was back to square one with him dear God above what a mess. Not his fault, but she DID set down one rule for him: don’t cheat with Grace. And yeah even tho he hasn’t properly cheated, it must FEEL horrible to her cus she’s just been enduring the pain of their unrequeted love for so long :((
See imma just say it but if Cordelia thought that James didn't love Grace then she def would have confessed to him about her feelings right but like James, on the other hand, was delaying his own romantic confession cus he was BEING EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED and I can't even say the bracelet was solely to blame cus like my boi was just being so difficult omg I believe he should be lightly spanked by his three parents aka Will, Tessa and Jem *cries*.
Cordelia is such a MOM like she's so mature and stable and her self-preservation instinct? OFF THE CHARTS I love this woman like James definitely treated her well as a hubby but like I JUST WANTED HER TO HAVE CLOSURE ABOUT SOMETHING and boy oh boy she did get that closure she got it good but not from the person she expected in the LEAST *hehe* *pelican screeching*... like Lucie was being sus with the whole ghost business and James was being just, quite a case, dealing with Grace and Belial right and I don't blame them at all for their secrecy and shit but her FATHER DIED and her friends were hiding a lot from her so in a way she turned to Alistair for help but he could only do so much cus of his own pain (she couldn't even talk to her mom cus she's pregnant and she doesn't wanna stress her right) and then there was this emotional block between her and Jamie, Lucie was often absent and conspiring with the dead... the last person remaining was HIM (imma discuss this soon), but yeah my heart just went OUT to her cus she's tryna save herself and her family and she just doesn't know what to do. That's why I love the way her mom told her to stop holding herself back for others and live her own life. Like Cordelia grew on me so much cus in Gold she undoubtedly was a strange Elizabeth Bennet-wallflower hybrid and I... do not usually get attached to wallflowers but in Iron I feel like I finally understood that she was just tryna be unproblematic and self-preserving all along and nottt put her family and friends in a tough situation.... she reminds me of my mom personality-wise so yeah I’m totally rooting for her now that her *situation* in the past seems clearer.
Anna, Thomas and Matthew are such a SQUAD lmfaooooo like united in their gayness they'd be so unstoppable.
Will and Tessa are the most in-love of all the in-loves in this story and I respect that so much.
I lost a year to my life every time the romance between James and Cordelia got cockblocked. Like they were MARRIED and I thought they were gonna at least sleep next to each other at least once BUT NO James couldn't take a hint omg I'm actually gonna eat my fist and sob (but in retrospect, I think this serves a bigger purpose in terms of the narrative structure i.e. the interruption of all the spicy James and Cordelia action serves a bigger purpose which I think brings me to my next section, *exhale*)
Welcome to the Matthew Fairchild Enthusiast Club (this section is me talking out loud; it makes no sense):
bitch.
LISTEN TO ME LISTEN WELL I LOVE THIS BOY SO MUCH IMMA SCREAM I REALLY AM GONNA SCREAM MY FIST IS LITERALLY IN MY MOUTH *BACKFLIPS OFF THE ROOF WITH LANA DEL REY PLAYING*
Okay like where to BEGIN I think the Shadowhunter boy who I'm most attracted to is Julian while the one I love the most is Will but I think I see myself in Matthew the most. Like ever since that first story where the Thieves all met at the Academy then got expelled, I think that I just KNEW Matthew was destined to be epic. Plus the whole Wilde obsession? I’m no libertine myself but I just love his chaos and passion for life.
NO CUS HE'S SO WITTY AND SWEET AND EPIC AND YET SO SECRETIVE AND DEAR GOD ABOVE AHHHHH WILL HE SURPASS JULIAN FOR ME??? Ion even know but this is just sodjsgdwsdygyegydgef
Hear me out but I said after finishing Gold last March that I wanted this book to be Matthew's healing arc right so halfway into the book when I realized that we weren't getting all that good healing arcing I was confused just cus I thought it seemed natural to address all of his alcohol issues and sadness by now. LITTLE DID I KNOW CASSIE WAS SETTING UP A WHOLE OTHER ARC WITH HIM THAT I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED WTH.
At first I thought Matthew didn't have feelings for anyone at all, and if he DID develop feelings unexpectedly, I fricking thought that maybe he's catching feelings for James, if anyone??? I mean, I did have some suspicions about Matthew from the get-go: like he's so secretive and as readers we think we know everything there is to know about him since we were all privy to the truth potion incident in his short story right BUT NO I GOT PLAYED AND I DESERVE IT SO BADDDDDD.
Listen I hadn't shipped him and Cordelia simply because I never thought it in the realm of possibility but it MAKES SENSE as a ship... think about it: he never says what he feels, he flirts with her like he does with EVERYONE, he is kind to her in the way he is with EVERYONE. Really, Matthew is shippable with everyone, doesn’t matter if they’re taken cus that’s just what his Matthewnes allows for ya feel. There is such a beautiful irony that CORDELIA herself did not see this coming. Even the little teasers and hints in Gold have only NOW started making sense to me likejhss. I just felt like the hints in book 1 did not indicate to me that Matthew really harbored real romantic feelings for Daisy. I thought he was upset that James and Cordelia were being fakes, not a developing CRUSH on the woman fgs.
Not to mention that you usually sense a ship building when the emotional connection or sexual tension between the characters is made clearer but to me their FRIENDSHIP grew right but it didn’t feel like Cordelia was thought that she liked him or he liked her so that means me and Cordelia are clowns *together* 😤
Okay I was lowkey having SUSPICIONS but I immediately shut them down right... like firstly when he took her to the White Horse in his car and she went OFF and OFF and off about how she felt free for the first time? I thought Cassie was just tryna develop Cordelia's self-liberation arc through Matthew there. Heck, I didn't even think ANYTHING of it when Matthew confession to Cordelia about the "truth potion" incident at all cus I was like they're FRIENDS??? BUT now it's adding up now...
See when they were at the inn place and he was telling her that she doesn't in the least seem like a 100 year-old married woman? I was like hmmmm he's so sweet but why did Cassie phrase it like that like??? When Cordelia later reiterated that she thought Matthew's flirting was “meaningless”?? I was like hmmm kinda SUS tho. And then when he and James had their fight over the way Jamie kissed Grace like again I thought he was just like? ion know? mad at James for it but I didn't think he was in LOVE with Cordelia??? So I immediately put aside my slight suspicions. The probability that he had a crush on James at that point seemed more likely to me.
BUT THEN it started hitting me that every time Matthew drank, even before he explained his issue with the truth potion, that Cordelia would note it, she would worry about him, she would think of her father which seemed so poetic to me, history repeating itself and all that but this time you can FIX it??? Yeah, but again I didn't think the L WORD would be involved man???
Now imma sound like a delulu shipper here but it just makes sense they would develop feelings logically- reason being that it definitely is possible based on the way Cassie set up the story, like there's a combination of little “friend things” that can turn this into a proper ship: Matthew rescues Cordelia in the ballroom when Grace captures James' attention in Gold. Cordelia sees her father in Matthew all the time but knows now she has a chance to be there for him in the way she couldn't have been there for Elias (classic “history repeats itself” trope, she doesn't want Matthew drinking in Paris like dhshghdfhdhch). Cordelia tastes freedom for the first time when driving with Matthew. Matthew caught James and Cordelia making out in the room and was pissed but not even HE properly knew why then??? Umm, when she thinks James is forreal cheating with Grace on her she subconsciously goes to Matthew??? I also found it funny just how every intimate marital moment between her and James got interrupted somehow. Like, it's as if the narrative is just a living force REFUSING to let James and Cordelia as a ship be consecrated. Heck, every time Matthew is scantily clothed Cordelia notes it. LITTLE CRUMBS I TELL YOU LITTLE CRUMBS.
I tell you when Cordelia showed up to Matthew's flat I thought they were gonna f*ck as friends but I got SOMETHING EVEN BETTER SOMEHOW
THEY ARE GOING TO PARIS LA BELLE EPOQUE PARIS THE PARIS OF DREAMS AND ART LIKE??? FRICKKKKK I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AT ALLLL MAN? I deadass thought the story would be restrained to the UK but like it MAKES SENSE the trope subversion MAKES SENSE.
“In Paris, with you, I will not need to forget.” SHITTRGEGGGDG
BUT CORDELIA LOVES JAMES TOO LIKE I CAN'T DENY THAT... where are we GOING with this like Matthew wouldn't lie about his feelings and yet Cassie wouldn't give us Matthew and Cordelia crumbs to only end it in the next book immediately for her to just ditch him for James. I mean she was clearly holding back on fleshing out James and Cordelia as a ship for this but to WHAT END??? Daisy feels wild and free with Matthew and she feels warm at home warm with James. I can’t advocate for the sinking of ANY ship here.
Imma say what we're all thinking: Is she gonna give us a Will x Jem x Tessa type situation where Cordelia gets both of them cus I'm not strong enough for this but I also think it'd be really funny if James gets a surprise bi awakening in the next books and then we get POLY even tho this would never happen, it’s actually impossible, because of the whole parabatai thing.
Listen I ship Cordelia and Matthew much more than Cordelia and James, not that I dislike James in any way tho. It's just: Matthew is so unrestrained and she's so composed. They seem like an unlikely pair so it makes sense that they hit harder for me. James and Cordelia have such similar personalities but I ALSO don't ship James with Grace at all so like?? Poly would be... ideal... but it can’t happen especially cus they are fricking parabatai... a Will-Jem-Tessa situation seems more likely but mannnn ion know what to expect. I just want FAIRSTAIRS to have their moment in Paris. I mean James and Matthew clearly don't abhor each other for this.
Take everything I say with several grains of salt, take everything I say with the whole Dead Sea actually, cus I damn well know that Matthew is so flirty and whatnot that I’d have shipped him with anyone in their little circle but now that she set him up with Cordelia it all feels so right?? I have wanted this man in a good relationship since he walked onto the page in Nothing But Shadows so-
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
I can't believe Cassia duped me like this omg, Matthew is gonna have his healing arc in Paris with Cordelia by his side like- THIS IS ALL I HAVE WANTED AND SO MUCH MORE. Question to yall btw: are you all as surpised at Fairstairs as me or did yall see it coming all along like smart people? Am I a lone clown? 🥺
BRUH okay criticisms of CC?:
Lmfao a part of me feels like I GOTTA say something bad about CC or the book but honestly I have no objective complaints about it as of now. Am I saying that it’s the PEAK of Young Adult literature and Urban Fantasy? I mean, I make no such claims tbh. I’m not here to be critical when I read as a hobby and when CC’s writing makes me happy regardless of how flawed some people see it.
Okay what next?
So like I’m excited for the adult high fantasy she’s releasing in the fall and whatever other works she might be releasing outside of Chain of Gold within the Chronicles.
As for TLH itself? Man I’m just VIBING like I suspect I will reread Chain of Iron soon and maybe one of the anthologies just because I am happy that this series actually happened after me waiting like 6 years for it when it was just a concept: a Dickensian retelling filled with poetry and culture and history and the conventions I so loved in TID at age 12. This is all I been wanting tbh. I’m just enjoying watching this series come to fruition for it to inspire and transform me in some way. I feel like in a way my coming-of-age aligns with that of these specific characters yet I ALSO feel like I raised Jamie since infancy. Wack.
MATTHEW AND CORDELIA IN FRANCE LA BELLE EPOQUE TO BE EXACT IMMA CRY I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AND AHHHHHH. ALSO WILL AND JAMIE GOING TO CORNWALL TO GET LUCIE AND MAYBE BOND I LOVE WILL. HE WAS ONE OF MY DILF AWAKENINGS AT AGE 12 AND NOW HE’S HERE AGAIN IMMA CRY. I WANNA SEE MATTHEW GET HAPPY. AHHH.
Ending with a fun quote: “In the wise words of someone or other, there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Maurice.” 😉
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troop-scoop · 3 years
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Youth I
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Chapter One -  Pilot
Word count: 2k
Series Summary: On a family trip to your dad’s home town of Hawkins, Indiana, you make a series of decisions that result in you ending up in the year 1983 with more questions than there are answers presently available. 
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Reader ( slow burn ) 
Chapter Summary: You go through what’s become your new ‘normal’ at Hawkins High School
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Nothing about your current situation was settling right in your stomach. There were no answers as to how you got here, and you didn’t have any questions that could easily be answered. A series of unfortunate events resulted in the attitude you carried. You used to be sweet, all smiles and laughter unless someone did something to make you upset.
What happened to that girl? The girl who grew up never experiencing fear to the point where it worried her parents and made teachers concerned because she’d climb so high on the playground that if you fell, you’d surely break something.
You’d climbed so high on something, and you fell into this situation, and something did break. Your bravery, your fearlessness, nothing physical, but those two things were shattered, and your ego bruised.
Nothing was like what you were used to. To you, everything in this school hallway was dated. The fashion, the haircuts, the textbooks, and the tech.
The stereotypes.
“L/n!”
You shook your head, already knowing whose voice that was. A teenage boy who fit the typical ‘jock’ stereotype that everyone knew. The kid who hated his small town, he got around, played a sport his father probably hated, who would likely never get out of said small town he hated. Yeah, you knew the pattern. Everyone, where you were from, did.
“No.”
You continued on your trek to the locker, but you could hear the slight squeaking of the soles of the older boy’s Nikes on the linoleum floor trying to catch up. Where you were from, people would be staring at this type of occurrence, but because none of the students surrounding you even batted an eye at the basketball player or you for that matter, told you that it wasn’t abnormal for him to be audacious.
“Hey now, I just wanna talk.” He defended, finally catching up to you, walking alongside, but a little bit behind so he didn’t get in anyone’s way.
“Harrington, the last time you wanted to ‘talk’ was when you needed my math homework.” A chuckle escaped you as you said it, finally stopping at your locker.
“In my defense, you don’t look like a sophomore.” He tried, standing next to you as you were spinning the knob in the locker to get it open.
“Whatever, what do you want?”
“Wow, you’re grumpy. Anyways, Tommy H, Carol, and I wanna hang out but my parents don’t leave for another week, and we can’t be at Carol’s place because her mom hates Tommy, and well, you know how Tommy’s dad is.”
You hummed in amusement. “Yeah, he’s a dick, how does that involve me?” You had your binder and pencil case in one arm, staring at him with your hand inside of your locker, holding onto the cup of coffee.
“Can we hang out at your place?”
Rolling your eyes you kneeled down, placing your things down on the ground before standing upright, grabbing the collar of his jacket and pulling it towards your locker, placing it inside before closing the door on it. “Not happening.” You responded, a bright smile on your face as you grabbed your things, taking a step to walk away.
“Y/n! This isn’t funny!”
“I’m gonna correct you on that, it’s not funny to you.” The situation was probably the funniest thing you’d encountered in weeks, and considering your day to day life before used to be full of laughter and playfully teasing, that then went to quiet days spent alone and pondering, this was a nice change.
“Unlock it or I’ll tell Mrs. Jensen!”
Steve’s threat caused you to laugh, holding your things closer so you didn’t drop any of them. “A tattletale? You always did strike me as the type to tease kids in elementary school, but you never did seem like a snitch, you do know the saying right? About snitches?”
“Yeah, from you!” he responded, and although he had a serious face, you knew he was fighting back a smile as well by his voice and how his brows weren’t furrowed in frustration or anger.
“Snitches are bitches, who get stitches and end up in ditches.” it wasn’t intentional for both of you to say it at the same time, but you had, but in two very different tones of voice. Your’s was more ‘matter of fact’ and he was amused.
You stared at him for a second, your smile remaining before you stepped forward,  turning the dial of your lock to open it, and once you lifted the lever for the door, Steve got himself out, standing up straight and staring down at you, his hands finding the pockets of his jacket as you closed the locker door again. “That wasn’t fair, you look innocent,” he mumbled to himself.
“I’ll see you later?” Steve asked after a second.
“We have study hall together, so. . . maybe,” you told him, stepping away from the locker and heading down the hallway to your English class.
Bulletin boards on the walls, spaced out between each other, with thumbtacks keeping flyers and announcements up for students to see, lockers for students to keep their things throughout the day. It was all odd.
At your previous schools, lockers weren’t available. That was until your freshman year where you had to pay five dollars a year if you wanted one. And instead of bulletin boards, flyers and announcements would just be taped to the walls, or given during morning announcements, or emailed to students and parents. You were pretty sure your previous high school got rid of lockers in the late ’90s when drugs became prominent in your area and then got rid of bulletin boards when one student sent the other to the hospital with a thumbtack to the wrist, but those types of stories always had a few details in them that never made sense, allowing you to cast doubt on them. But maybe the story had just been told so many times that detail got twisted, the truth of what happened got misconstrued. Like a game of telephone.
Reaching the English classroom, you found your seat, with your anxiousness rising as you sat down, placing your coffee at the upper corner of your small desk, keeping your school supplies close to your chest.
You’d been a happy kid growing up. You didn’t have very many friends, but you had your parents, your little brother, and a condo that you’d been brought home to as a newborn that you knew was a safe place. Unlike the few friends you did have, you never really experienced anxiety or symptoms of depression, but you knew the signs, your closest friend, Mandy, dealt with it, and she confided in you often about how it felt and what it was like, and you often did your own research on it to know what you could to help her.
There were weekends where you spent a good few hours learning different breathing techniques to help her whenever she would have a panic attack, but now that you were dealing with moments where your heart sped up, your hands shook and you felt like something was terribly wrong, it was like all of those hours had been a waste because you couldn’t use them without getting more anxious.
“You okay?”
Looking to your left, you were met with a curious glance from your partner on the English project. Giving an unconvincing nod, you looked down at the top of your desk, eyes tracing over the wood pattern, lines connecting that looked like they shouldn’t, forming shapes and allowing you to distract yourself as Jonathan set his things down as well, taking his seat next to you.
Mrs. Jensen went over the usual, giving instructions for the project that everyone already knew, before leaving everyone to work, with her sitting behind her desk, a book in hand and a container of what you assumed were grapes by the purplish color. Though they could have been large blueberries.
“What’s so important about a quote?” Jonathan mumbled to himself, though it caught your attention from your own worksheet, looking over to him.
“In what context?” you asked, taking a sip from your drink as he began speaking.
“We’re talking about Romeo and Juliet, everyone knows what it’s about, you don’t really need a quote to explain things.”
You nodded when he looked over to you. “A lot of people only really know that it was written by Shakespeare and it’s about two star crossed lovers who kill themselves in the end. Mrs. Jensen probably knew that’s all anyone really remembers, she wants to make sure people know what’s actually happening.
“It’s pretty obvious, ‘Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?’ she’s asking where he is.” He shrugged a bit, placing the book down on the desk, pages open and light reflecting off of the glossy pages.
“No, she’s not,” you told him, getting an odd and questioning look from him. “Well, this was written in the 1500s, English is practically a new language at that point, getting its own footing for once, paintings of historical figures wouldn’t have the English spelling of their names, and English is a language that’s taken a bunch of different parts from other languages, mostly german. If you ever see a period piece that’s set around this period of time, if a child says ‘lady mother’ when they’re addressing their mom, they’re not acknowledging that their mother is a female. They’re acknowledging her title. So her husband is likely a lord of a piece of land, which makes her the lady of that land as well. It was an archaic way of showing respect to their mother by also saying she had a title.”
“How does that relate to the quote?”
“Well, early modern English had many different phrases, and things have changed, we’ve come up with ways to say things that are far more simple. While we think she’s asking where Romeo is, she’s actually asking why he’s Romeo. Why out of all the people she could have fallen for, it had to be him. The enemy. You could use that in the analysis, a bit of how it shows we don’t choose who we love, even if we know we shouldn’t love them.”
Jonathan blinked before looking at his worksheet, picking up his pencil and writing something down, paraphrasing what you had just said and only moments later the bell rang, signaling the end of the class period.
You grabbed your things, leaving as quickly as you could without looking like an idiot, trying to get away from what caused you to be so nervous and make you feel like you could be sick at any moment.
Growing up, you weren’t afraid of many things if any. But maybe you just needed something like this to make you afraid of everything and anything around you. To make you jump at the sound of a drop of water from outside your motel window landing on the metal railing of the stairs and walkway.
But you were terrified, and you wanted to wake up in your own bed, at home, with your dad gently shaking your shoulder to get you up and out of bed. You were terrified you’d never see your parents again, that you’d been too mean to your little brother growing up, and that the last memory he’d have of you was you being mean.
You hadn’t even been afraid to sleep on your own as a kid, and all the things that you weren’t afraid of as a child that you should have been, always seemed to worry your dad. But what would he say and think now? Would he be worried now that you lived in a constant state of fear? Just looking at clothing racks scared you.
Since July you’d been trying to act normal, trying to pretend everything was okay, trying to be your normal self, but your normal self would be odd to everyone else, you knew random things no one else did, you liked things no one even knew about yet, and if you tried to talk about those things, you knew it wouldn’t be a good outcome, not a sour one, but not happy.
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Add yourself to the taglist!
tagging who i know would want to be - 
@stonersteve​ @ilovebucketbarnes​
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Earliest art of Pan!
Thanks to @thegrapeandthefig​ for finding this for me! : )
We’ve all seen Pan depicted as a satyr, so when I read that the first depiction of Pan was of him as a goat I really wanted to see what that looked like (this is from “The cult of Pan in ancient Greece” by Borgeaud  btw). Anyway, here it is! I thought I would share it here in case anyone else was interested!
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Here’s a picture that shows the other stuff around him
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This is from 500—490 BCE and was found in Arcadia (Pan’s origin) it was probably painted by an Attic craftsman. The paper states that this was a representation of a demonic Pan but I’m not sure what that means exactly. Ofc Pan wasn’t generally considered a demon (and what that word means for ancient Greeks is probably different than what it means to us today). And if someone who knows more about this has something to add I’d love to hear it! Anyway yeah! Pan is cool and this is literally the earliest art of him that we still have today and I think that’s pretty neat!
Sources below also as always if I got anything wrong please let me know : )
Book i mentioned in the beginning:
Borgeaud, P., & Atlass, K. (1988). The cult of Pan in ancient Greece  Chicago: University of Chicago Press. ISBN 13: 9780226065953
Art/Pottery from :
Hübinger, U. 1992. On Pan’s Iconography and the Cult in the Sanctuary of Pan on the Slopes of Mount Lykaion. In Hägg, R. (Ed.), The Iconography of Greek Cult in the Archaic and Classical Periods: Proceedings of the First International Seminar on Ancient Greek Cult, organised by the Swedish Institute at Athens and the European Cultural Centre of Delphi (Delphi, 16-18 Novembre 1990). Presses universitaires de Liège. doi:10.4000/books.pulg.204
Potentially helpful thing: Usually if you want to read a paper you can copy/paste the doi into sci-hub.tw to get a pdf of it for free!
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