Chapter 10: The Emergence of the Fake Emperor

The carriage slowly pulled up to the manor, the slight vibration of the cabin startling Solene awake. She stepped down expressionlessly, looking back at the stunned Abel. "Need a hand?" Solene quirked an eyebrow and smiled.

Abel shook his head. Solene turned and calmly asked Andre, who had been waiting at the entrance: "Is the matter with the Magic Tower handled?"

Andre’s gaze was profound, the ring on his finger turning. He replied: "Those who would not listen are already in the darkness, awaiting the Countess’s judgment."

Abel walked to Solene’s side, his mind a whirlpool of thoughts. Catching the dazed look in his eyes out of the corner of her eye, Solene knew he was guessing.

“You go back; I will deal with them.” Solene offered a slight smile.

Ian, I’ve given you so many hints; you’d better think long and hard.

If he guessed right, perhaps he could still see them one last time.

She took Abel’s hand and brushed past Andre. Andre frowned, asking: “Who is he?”

Solene: “My lover, Abel.”

Andre clenched his fist, magic surging. The heads of the maids and servants in the manor dipped even lower. Andre turned his ring and vanished in an instant.

Inside the Vaisman manor, the atmosphere was tranquil yet slightly oppressive, just as Abel’s intelligence had suggested. There was no laughter here, only silence and numbness. Solene preferred quiet, so the maids spoke in hushed tones; those who were restless had long been dismissed. In the manor, servants moved with orderly efficiency while Solene focused on reviewing the Empire’s many affairs.

Abel sat on a nearby sofa, a table of exquisite pastries before him. He stared at these classic items from the Yano Bakery—items they had often eaten together in the past—and a flicker of doubt rose in his heart: Had Solene already seen through his identity?

“Not to your taste?” Solene’s voice drifted over. She didn't look up, as if asking casually.

Abel’s heart tightened, and he quickly masked his reaction. “I’m not hungry right now.” His voice trembled slightly, betraying his inner unease.

Hearing this, Solene looked up at his thin figure, her brow furrowing with a cold tone: “Even so, have a taste. There likely won’t be dinner later, as I usually don’t eat it.”

Abel froze for a moment, then nodded, surprised by her living habits. He silently took a pastry and placed it in his mouth; the familiar flavor bloomed across his tongue. He hadn’t eaten this in a long while.

In a soft voice, Abel asked: “Why don't you eat dinner?”

At this, Solene looked up. Seeing the same look in his eyes as in the past, she stood up in dissatisfaction, her eyes filled with loathing. She wore a simple shirt and comfortable trousers, her hair tied back, her eyes weary.

Solene gripped Abel’s neck, pinning his waist down with one knee, and leaned down to kiss him. During the day it was Abel who was biting; now it was Solene. She bit his lip hard. Blood mixed with bitterness tangled between their teeth.

Solene reached behind her to pick up a pastry, put it in her own mouth, and pressed back against Abel’s lips, pushing it over with her tongue. A blood-flavored pastry. Both were breathless, leaning against each other, panting. Solene traced the neck she had squeezed red and bit down hard in the same spot as that night.

They tangled together on the sofa. Solene bit her lip to keep from making a sound. Abel took what he wanted without restraint, lacking even a trace of his former gentleness.

Thinking it was over, Solene tried to stand, only to be pressed back by Abel. She stared into his icy eyes and gave a raspy laugh: “I don’t like sweets. For me, eating is merely for survival.”

Abel’s movements slowed as he looked at her eyes full of desire, her messy hair, and her torn shirt. Her snow-white skin matched that night. Clearly, she had been covered in marks, yet the Solene who had rushed over to frame him that day had been perfectly clean. For a moment, even he wondered if he had been controlled by magic.

But the pink gemstone from her hairpiece had fallen under his pillow—the hairpiece he had torn—proving it was all real. Solene was the mastermind behind everything. He slowed his pace, beginning to gnaw and kiss her neck, leaving marks almost identical to that night.

Suddenly, tears filled his eyes. Solene frowned, wiping them away. “Don’t cry. Let me tell you something funny.”

Abel’s gaze trembled.

“Everyone knows the former Crown Prince and I were a couple, but I never loved him.”

Abel’s fingertips shook slightly.

“I had people spy on him. I knew he liked Yano’s pastries, so I mentioned them on purpose. He actually thought he’d found a soulmate. Hahaha... mmm...”

Abel’s movements became violent. Solene struggled to find purchase, losing the strength to speak as sounds leaked through her clenched teeth. She tried to grab his shoulders for support, but he pushed her arms away; she could only clutch the fabric of the sofa, her eyes losing focus.

It wasn’t until late at night that Solene pushed the man aside and struggled to her feet, walking to the desk. She opened a drawer and drained a bottle of stamina-restoring magic potion without hesitation. After throwing on a cloak, she rang the bell. The maid on duty knocked respectfully.

“Enter.” Solene’s voice was hoarse.

The maid entered and bowed. Abel had also dressed; he watched Solene, who sat panting at the desk, his eyes full of inquiry.

“I am going to bathe,” Solene commanded, weariness in her voice. The maid nodded and left quickly, not daring to steal a glance at the room, as if the very air was frozen by her caution.

Seeing Abel’s questioning look, a smile touched the corner of Solene’s mouth. “Do you find it strange? Even though the people in this manor fear me, my reputation is surprisingly good.”

Abel was silent for a moment, then slowly shook his head. “I’m not curious about such things.”

Solene’s smile deepened. “Your acting is terrible.”

At those words, Abel frowned and began to gather mana. As one of the few Special-class mages who didn't need magic stones to store mana, he could keep a vast amount within his body to be called upon at will. Those who relied on stones and time were categorized as High, Intermediate, or Primary based on their speed. Currently, in the entire Empire, only Solene was known to have reached the Special-class—excluding, of course, Ian, who was Abel and had hidden his strength.

Solene knew Ian’s strength well. Her only confusion was how he had achieved it. Had she not hidden her own power in the Emperor’s study, Ian would not have escaped. At that time, they had fought to a draw.

Solene smiled: “You are clearly very curious as to why.”

Abel relaxed his body and remained silent.

“Because the working conditions I provide are the best. They don’t fear me; they fear losing this job—or perhaps both.” Solene gave a light laugh. Abel didn’t react immediately, a guess forming in his mind.

“Too many eyes are on us. You, too, must become a focus of attention.” Solene walked to him, struggling to control the trembling in her legs, and gently lifted his chin. Faced with this sudden gesture, Abel didn't know how to respond, merely lowering his eyes to listen.

“After you bathe, go to my room to rest. Sleep first; I have to handle the affairs on the desk. The Emperor is visiting tomorrow; do you want to see him?”

Abel nodded slowly, indicating he did.

Seeing this, Solene gave a tender smile. “In the future, if you want something, say it. If you don't say it, I won't acknowledge it.”

“Are you not going to sleep?” After a while, Abel looked up at her and asked.

As the words fell, the warmth in Solene’s eyes seemed to drop several degrees. Looking into that gaze—as clear as it had been at the start—her heart filled with loathing. After everything, why was that look still the same? Why! She jerked her hand away and turned to leave, tossing back a faint remark: “We’ll see.”

Solene didn’t sleep all night. She stood up from the desk, exhausted. The affairs of her family and the Empire were piled high. Even the most trivial matters were brought to her. The nobles currently controlling the Empire were simply useless!

She walked out of the room in a daze and bumped into a maid carrying breakfast. Abel happened to witness this from downstairs; he had specifically arranged for the maid to bring it up. The maid hadn't dared at first, but went only after his reassurances.

“Did I ask for breakfast?” Solene questioned expressionlessly.

Abel hurried upstairs to find Solene harshly reprimanding the maid. “I told her to bring it to you. You haven’t rested all night,” Abel explained.

“Shut up! What right do you have? You are merely a lover!” Solene said icily.

Abel was at a loss for words. Whether as the Crown Prince, a puppet Emperor, or a fugitive, he had never been so belittled. Solene gave a light laugh.

Do you feel it? This is the world of the people at the bottom.

There is no such thing as true empathy in this world unless you experience the exact same thing. Walk in the same shoes.

Then, she turned to the butler: “Fire this maid.”

The maid clutched Solene’s trouser leg, tears streaming down her face. “Please don't, Countess! I have five people to support. My parents are sick, and my siblings are young. If I lose this job, my whole family will starve!”

The head maid pulled her away as she wept. The butler found her contract and tore it up.

“If you want to earn money, go to my mines. I recall the kitchen there lacks staff,” Solene said, frowning.

“I’ll go! I’ll go!” the maid cried out in desperation, throwing a vicious glare at Abel.

Looking at her milk-soaked shirt, Solene frowned slightly and ordered a change of clothes. After changing, she found Abel sitting at the table, pale and dazed. When their eyes met, Solene smiled. “Abel is a fine name. it means ‘breath’ or ‘freedom.’ Do you like it?”

“My parents gave it to me,” Abel replied.

“And what do you think of the name Ian?” Solene continued.

At the question, Abel’s movements stopped. He shook his head. “That is His Majesty’s name; I dare not comment.”

“It’s fine. It's just the two of us; speak freely. Even the Emperor can do nothing to me.” Solene laughed, covering her mouth.

“Ian means ‘shining like sunlight.’ It is a good name,” Abel said without expression.

“The names Ian and Hill do go well together. No wonder he betrayed me. Fortunately, I never loved him either,” Solene remarked. Abel remained silent.

“They are getting married soon. Help me think of a gift to send as an ex’s blessing. Nothing tacky; choose something extravagant. Money is no object,” Solene added. Abel nodded: “I will consider it for you.” Solene smiled with satisfaction.

After breakfast, the Emperor "Ian" arrived at the manor. He smiled at Solene, walking in step with Hill on his arm. Solene instructed the butler to hand over the handled Imperial affairs to the Emperor’s chief of staff. Now, the people surrounding the Emperor were all Solene’s confidants. On the surface, everything seemed normal, but the system had quietly shifted. This change was hard for commoners to notice; only the nobles at the center of power felt the unease.

Abel and "Ian" locked eyes. The Special-class magical disguise was truly flawless. Abel lowered his head slightly. "Ian" spoke: “And this is?”

Solene replied with a smile: “This is my lover, Abel.”

A strange light flashed in her eyes. "Ian" received the signal instantly, grabbed her in a hug, and said with feigned anger: “Solene, how could you find a lover?” He acted according to the script Solene had passed him.

Faced with the sudden change, Solene pretended to be caught off guard, pushing him away angrily and asking with reddened eyes: “What does Your Majesty mean by this?”

Soon, the dialogue was spread by the newspapers. The news of Solene’s private life didn't cause much of a stir; instead, the topic of the Emperor’s rekindled interest in his old flame became the focus of gossip. Meanwhile, rumors of the Emperor’s promiscuity began to circulate among the commoners.

Solene threw herself into Abel’s arms. Abel frowned and glared at "Ian," his heart full of confusion. He thought the person Solene had found to disguise as him was unreliable and had threatened her.