Your Majesty, I’m Not that Man - Chapter 2: Not the Second Wife, but the Mistress? (6)

Cassion watched Levinia’s clumsy attempt to hide under the covers with a mix of curiosity and incredulity. He had seen her portrait before; her face wasn’t unfamiliar to him.

He knew most high-ranking nobles had looked down on him during his youth, mocking him as nothing more than a royal plaything destined to be a slave to his uncle, Kylon. Some didn’t even afford him the dignity of acknowledging his royal blood.

Cassion had slaughtered them one by one, like prey in a hunt. Those who dared to insult him as a mere “male concubine” were, ironically, forced into his harem as concubines themselves.

He had endured years of humiliation under Kylon’s rule, pretending to cower and obey, all the while engraving every insult and slight into his bones. He had vowed to repay that humiliation tenfold, and he had done so mercilessly.

Half the empire’s high nobility had been wiped out by his hands. Now, with imperial authority fully secured, it was time to restore the traditions and dignity of the throne. For that, Cassion needed a marriage—not to a foreign princess, but to a noblewoman from within the empire.

The sole viable candidate was Levinia, the last remaining daughter of a ducal house.

But Levinia had rejected the position of empress, lowering herself to request a concubine’s status instead. Cassion had taken that as an insult, assuming she found the idea of him as her husband repugnant because of his illegitimate birth and the circumstances of his rise to power.

He had canceled the wedding without hesitation, granting her request to become a concubine. Let the ministers complain and politics grow complicated—he would never make someone who scorned him his empress. Tonight, he had planned to show her just how insignificant the position of a concubine truly was.

And yet…

What is she doing?

Cassion stared at the lump under the covers, clearly shaped by Levinia’s curled-up form. Was she truly hiding out of fear?

Even if he weren’t as perceptive as he was, the bells adorning her wrist and ankle would have betrayed her every movement. Those bells were meant as a cruel joke—a way to strip concubines of dignity, their jingling an ever-present reminder of their submission.

Cassion had ordered Levinia to wear them specifically, knowing she was the proud daughter of a ducal family. He had expected her to feel humiliated, but now he wondered if her rejection of the empress’s position wasn’t born of disdain for him but genuine fear.

“Hah. If her coward of a father is any indication, how much braver could she be?”

The thought briefly cooled his anger. If she had truly refused the position of empress out of fear, it was almost pitiable. Still, it didn’t change his decision. A timid woman had no place as his empress, a position meant for someone capable of withstanding the pressures of court and ruling by his side.

Pulling the blanket away, Cassion’s sharp blue eyes fell on Levinia’s adorned figure. The golden jewelry accentuated her pale, delicate frame, and her soft brown hair, glossy with oil and dusted with gold, fell in waves over her shoulders.

She was flushed to the tips of her ears, her body half-covered by the blanket she clutched desperately. Her slender arms crossed over her chest, an instinctive attempt to shield herself.

For a moment, Cassion was silent. Her bright green eyes, trembling with nervousness and fear, darted away from his piercing gaze.

“…So it’s the latter, then.”

He felt his anger subside. It was better than outright contempt, but it left him unimpressed. A timid, naive noblewoman wasn’t to his taste.

“Do you think hiding under a blanket counts as hiding?” he asked, his voice laced with derision.

“I-It’s not that,” Levinia stammered. “I just… I was embarrassed…”

Embarrassed? Cassion suppressed a scoff. That had been the point of the adornments and the specific preparation. While this type of display wasn’t typically required of women, he had made an exception for her. He had wanted her to feel the humiliation.

“A concubine’s role is to satisfy the emperor completely,” Cassion said, his tone cold and detached. “These adornments are part of that. Is this not what you wanted?”

Although he wasn’t angry, neither was he inclined to be kind. The idea of having to deal with her reluctance or tears mid-act made him feel tired already. If she proved too bothersome, he would simply end the night early and send her back to the harem.

To his surprise, Levinia met his gaze at last, her expression serious.

“If my request to become a concubine offended Your Majesty, I humbly beg for your forgiveness. I only made such a request because I knew I was unworthy of the position of empress.”

Cassion raised a brow, his blue eyes narrowing. “You certainly have a lot to say for someone who wasn’t asked. Fine, explain yourself. Why are you so unworthy of the empress’s title?”

It was an absurd scene—she, half-naked with only a blanket to cover her, yet speaking as if she were delivering a formal justification. Still, Cassion’s curiosity had been piqued.

Levinia hesitated briefly before glancing at Cassion for a moment and then lowering her gaze.

“If I were to become empress…” she began, her voice soft but steady, “I would want Your Majesty to look only at me.”

Cassion narrowed his sharp blue eyes at Levinia, sensing her words as an attempt to flatter him and escape the situation.

“So, you’re saying you’d want to monopolize me? And what about me is so appealing?”

Levinia met his gaze, her tone composed despite the tension in the air.

“Your Majesty, leaving aside all of your virtues, isn’t it natural to want to be the sole focus of one’s spouse? Surely, even Your Majesty wouldn’t approve of concubines consorting with other men.”

Cassion momentarily considered responding with a smug, “I am the emperor; I can do whatever I please.” He knew better, of course. Emperor or noble, such power dynamics were fundamentally unfair, a tyranny born of authority. He wielded his power with disregard for others’ emotions simply because it was his right.

After a moment of silence, he let out a dry chuckle.

“So, what you’re saying is that the lady wishes for a romantic affair with me?”

How did it come to this? Levinia wondered, blinking in confusion. From his tone, it was clear that Cassion’s original intention in making her empress had been political. She’d pieced that much together but felt trapped now. Denying his insinuation would amount to outright declaring her lack of interest in him—a dangerous move.

“I wouldn’t dare harbor such feelings for one as lofty as Your Majesty,” Levinia replied smoothly, her voice even. “That is precisely why I requested to be a concubine.”

“Hmph…” Cassion eyed her with a scrutinizing gaze.

He had seen countless people approach him with similar attempts to earn his favor. Some sought him with physical allure, offering extraordinary skills in the bedroom. Others claimed to love him, playing on emotions to curry his favor.

Their ultimate goal was always the same: power.

Whether it was wealth, land, or influence, they all desired the strength he wielded as emperor. Those who dared to overreach were quickly dealt with—he had severed their heads without hesitation.

Power, Cassion believed, should remain with the imperial family. Only within their hands did it truly shine. To give that power to anyone else would tarnish its brilliance. The only person permitted to share that power was the empress, and even then, he had been cautious.

The women he had considered elevating to empress had all sought power, but one woman—a duke’s daughter—claimed to value love above all else. Levinia, however, seemed to reject both.

“How naïve,” Cassion said, his tone faintly mocking. “Haven’t you outgrown the age for such foolish dreams?”

“If so, then would Your Majesty not mind if the empress had a lover of her own?” Levinia countered, her green eyes glinting with sharpness.

“…”

Cassion remained silent for a moment, though her words struck a nerve.

Truthfully, he hadn’t cared much about his concubines’ private affairs. Even when they sought solace in each other’s arms, it hadn’t troubled him. At most, he would use their indiscretions as an excuse to banish them when the time came. He had never been emotionally involved with any of them.

But the idea of the empress—his empress—having a lover? He hadn’t anticipated the way the suggestion would irritate him. It was hypocritical, considering the dozens of concubines he himself kept. Still, the thought felt wrong.

“Dare you equate the emperor and the empress as equals?” he asked coldly, his tone edged with warning.

“That is precisely why I said I was unworthy of the position,” Levinia replied smoothly, as if she had anticipated his reaction. “I lack the capacity to embrace both Your Majesty and your lovers.”

Her calm, almost measured response was infuriating. Cassion scowled, his irritation growing.

“A concubine cannot entertain other men, either,” he retorted sharply.

Levinia could feel the tension rising, but she suppressed the retort bubbling in her chest. While it was true that a concubine could be discarded once the emperor grew bored of her, she dared not point that out.

People’s minds were strange, she reasoned. Once someone suspected ulterior motives, they would dig in their heels and refuse to give in, no matter how minor the issue. Besides, she couldn’t risk revealing her intent to flee the palace.

“But the empress is only one person,” Levinia said quietly. “Even when one resolves not to hope for too much, it’s human nature to expect and be disappointed. Were I to become empress, I fear I would place too much hope in Your Majesty and inevitably find myself hurt.”

“So you believe the position of a concubine is better?” Cassion asked with a raised brow.

“One doesn’t feel as hurt when there’s no expectation to begin with,” she answered.

For a long moment, Cassion stared at her, his piercing blue eyes unblinking. Her words felt foreign to him. Most of the people in his orbit fell into one of two categories: those who sought to manipulate him for their gain and those who were forced into his company, whether as punishment or a display of power.

But Levinia didn’t fit into either group.

Cassion couldn’t deny the strange discomfort building within him as he looked at Levinia. By all accounts, she fell into the category of someone brought to him unwillingly, yet her circumstances didn’t quite fit. The Wendell ducal family had never openly defied him, and even now, they had sent their daughter without resistance.

This made her words, and the choices behind them, all the more unsettling. Until minutes ago, he had assumed Levinia rejected the empress position out of disdain for him, as someone she deemed unworthy. But her explanation painted a different picture—one where she might have declined out of fear of her own emotions. That she might have seen him not as an emperor, but as a man.

This realization complicated his feelings.

Cassion, like any emperor, understood that his marriage was inherently political. Yet unlike most monarchs, he held the power to disregard politics entirely. And even though he could wield that power, he hadn’t. He hadn’t taken the time to consider whether Levinia shared his perspective or values.

That oversight, along with her voluntary descent into a concubine’s status, left him ill at ease. The thought that his decision might have brought unnecessary misery to an innocent person was foreign and unwelcome. Cassion had never encountered someone so free of deceit or self-interest, and it made him uncomfortably aware of how monstrous he must seem to her.

“…If those were your feelings, you should have refused the marriage entirely,” he said, his voice sharp, as though trying to dismiss the nagging thoughts within him.

But even he knew the futility of his words. As a tyrant, his orders were absolute.

“How could I, as a loyal subject, dare to refuse Your Majesty’s decree?” Levinia replied calmly.

The reality of the situation was inescapable. The marriage had been canceled, and her entry into the imperial palace had been expedited. She was already here, in his chambers, awaiting the night’s end. There was no turning back now.

For the first time in his life, Cassion felt a flicker of guilt. Not enough to apologize—never that—but enough to trouble him.

Cassion’s expression tightened as he studied Levinia.

“And what is it you expect me to do now?” he asked.

Levinia tilted her head slightly, her voice steady as she replied. “How could I dare to expect anything more than this, Your Majesty? I requested to be your concubine of my own will and am content with your favor for one night.”

Cassion frowned. He had indeed intended for tonight to be her only night in his bed. But her words, the explanation she had given, made it difficult to maintain his previous detachment.

“Even if my feelings have shifted, what difference does it make? It doesn’t change who I am.”

His resentment toward her had evaporated, but that didn’t mean he could—or would—reshape his life for her. The most he could do was offer her the freedom to find solace elsewhere. Cassion silently resolved that if Levinia formed a bond with one of the other concubines or even attempted to escape the palace, he wouldn’t stop her. He might feign an effort to retrieve her, but only for appearances.

He could allow her that much.

With that thought, Cassion pulled her gently into his arms. Levinia’s startled and nervous expression caught his attention. It unsettled him in a way he couldn’t quite place. Was it because she seemed to want nothing from him?

“…Don’t be afraid,” he said in a quieter, softer tone. “I will be gentle.”

Levinia’s green eyes widened at his words, and for a brief moment, she looked utterly lost. Cassion ignored her bewildered expression, focusing instead on removing the bracelet with the small bell from her wrist.

“That… That’s not necessary?” she stammered as he unclasped it.

“You don’t need to wear this,” he said simply, discarding the bracelet onto the floor.

The bells had been intended as a mockery, to humiliate her, but he no longer saw the point. Reaching for her ankle, he grasped her foot to remove the anklet. Levinia flinched slightly at his touch, her toes curling instinctively. Cassion felt her subtle reaction and paused briefly, an odd sensation flickering within him.

“I’ll remove the chain around your waist, as well,” he added.

“I-I can do it myself,” Levinia protested, squirming slightly as his hand moved closer.