Your Majesty, I’m Not that Man - Chapter 9: Plea (3)

Maxim walked through the grand halls of the Rose Palace, escorted by a steward who guided him to Levinia’s chambers. Despite being flanked by his own attendant, Hans, he couldn’t shake the unease crawling under his skin. His nervous glances around the intricately decorated corridor betrayed his fear.

The Rose Palace was known for its stringent security, and typically, personal attendants weren’t allowed entry. However, the Emperor had granted a special exception, permitting Maxim to bring Hans and Zelenka to accompany her maids.

“Coming to the imperial palace like this… What was I thinking?” Maxim chastised himself internally. Though he had purposely chosen a time when the Emperor was in a council meeting, there was no guarantee that Cassion wouldn’t return early—and that thought terrified him.

“…To think His Majesty moved her to the Rose Palace,” Zelenka murmured, her expression tinged with bitterness. “He must truly cherish her.”

Her tone was laden with resentment. Zelenka had also married a man who preferred the company of other men, but she had never received this kind of treatment. She couldn’t forget the look of disgust Maxim had given her after their wedding night. Even now, the memory brought a crushing sense of disappointment.

“Y-yes, it seems so,” Maxim stammered in response, clearly uneasy.

Zelenka glanced at him with open disdain, disgusted by his cowardly demeanor. His handsome features couldn’t conceal the weak and self-serving nature that lurked beneath.

“Spineless, selfish fool. And to bring him all the way here…”

Her gaze shifted to Hans, who walked half a step behind Maxim. With his androgynous beauty and stoic expression, Hans looked every bit the perfect servant. When he noticed Zelenka’s eyes on him, he briefly glanced her way before looking away again, uninterested.

The well-known relationship between Maxim and Hans gnawed at Zelenka’s pride. She clenched her teeth, barely suppressing her anger. How dare he bring that… person into the imperial palace?

In Zelenka’s eyes, Maxim was a cowardly opportunist who believed the entire world revolved around him. She remembered a time when she had been young and foolish, utterly bewitched by his title, his striking looks, and her own desperate ambition to win his favor.

“How naive I was,” she thought bitterly. “At least Levinia didn’t make the same mistake I did.”

Though she should have felt relief, jealousy roared in her chest. Born the daughter of a poor viscount, Zelenka had been forced into this miserable marriage, while Levinia, born into the prestigious Wendell family, not only lived a privileged life but had also captured the Emperor’s heart.

“Why is the world so unfair?”

When she first heard the news of Levinia becoming the Emperor’s concubine, Zelenka had been overcome with sorrow, feeling as though her own misfortune was being repeated. But a darker part of her had rationalized it as karma—Levinia was simply paying for her coldness and cruelty toward her own mother.

“No, no… I should think of it differently,” she reasoned now. “This is her chance to repay her mother, to finally do something for me.”

She convinced herself that Levinia wouldn’t refuse her this time. Despite her arrogance, Levinia had a soft heart. Surely, she wouldn’t reject her mother’s plea.

As Zelenka’s lips curled into a faint, self-satisfied smile, Maxim shot her a look of contempt. That expression on her face—it was obvious she had come here with some hidden agenda.

Maxim felt a flicker of guilt. In the past, he too would have approached Levinia with some request or other. But after her escape attempt, he knew better than to push his luck.

“That girl had better not try anything foolish again,” he thought grimly. “She should focus on pleasing the Emperor, not plotting another escape. What was she even thinking?”

The sound of their footsteps echoed through the quiet corridor, amplifying the tension between them. Hans, walking silently by Maxim’s side, occasionally glanced at his master with thinly veiled irritation.

“How can someone so large and imposing be such a coward?”

At one time, Hans had been captivated by Maxim’s appearance, his status, and his wealth. But after witnessing Maxim’s weak and petty nature, he had long since lost those feelings. Now, every instance of Maxim’s sniveling behavior grated on his nerves.

“To think the Emperor is so enamored with his daughter. And this fool, her father, doesn’t even realize what an embarrassment he is.”

Hans’s thoughts darkened as he considered Levinia’s position. He hoped the Emperor would lose interest in her and cast her aside eventually. But if Cassion were to have a child with her and attempt to pass on the Wendell duchy to that child… that would be disastrous.

“No man likes hearing about a woman’s past. If I can spin the right story about her…”

Hans suppressed a sly smile as he kept pace with the group, marveling at how fortunate he was to have become the Duke’s lover. Without that connection, he would never have been allowed to set foot inside the imperial palace.

Lost in their own thoughts, the group finally reached the grand doors of the Sun Room. The intricately carved panels depicted the sun and moon in beautiful symmetry, reflecting the grandeur of the imperial palace.

The steward stepped forward, and the guards stationed at the door moved aside, opening the heavy doors to allow them entry.

The Rose Palace, the grandest of the Emperor’s five palaces, carried an oppressive magnificence that weighed heavily on Maxim and Zelenka as they stepped inside. Its storied history as a refuge for emperors who feared assassination lent a chilling aura to the already imposing surroundings.

Lining the entrance hall were towering statues of past emperors, their stern visages carved in cold stone, watching over the space with unyielding authority. The sheer scale of the interior—so vast it seemed more suited for an imperial throne room than a reception area—left the group feeling dwarfed and uneasy.

At the center of the room, a lavish sofa set adorned with gold trim and embedded gemstones glimmered under the light streaming through the tall windows. Seated in the middle of the opulent arrangement was not Levinia but a single man.

A breathtakingly beautiful man.

“W-who…?” Maxim’s breath hitched. Then, upon catching sight of the man’s radiant golden hair, recognition struck him like a bolt of lightning.

It was the Emperor, Cassion.

Maxim, overcome with fear, dropped to his knees so abruptly it was as if he intended to prostrate himself fully. Hans, startled by Maxim’s sudden collapse, glanced at him in confusion.

“Your Grace?” Hans asked cautiously.

“Y-Your Majesty! I am at Your Majesty’s mercy!” Maxim stammered, his voice trembling with panic.

His cry snapped everyone’s attention to the man lounging on the sofa. The group froze, their eyes widening in awe as they took in his divine beauty. For a moment, their fear was eclipsed by the sheer wonder of his presence, but the realization of who he was quickly jolted them back to reality.

Hastily, they lowered themselves into deep bows, though none grovelled as dramatically as Maxim. Zelenka, maintaining what dignity she could muster, greeted him with practiced grace.

“Glory to the Sun of Adalaxus,” she said, her voice steady despite the tension in the air.

Cassion, however, merely regarded them with cold disinterest, his piercing gaze akin to that of a predator observing its prey.

Hans, his head bowed deeply, couldn’t help but marvel at the Emperor’s otherworldly appearance. “So this is the man Levinia has ensnared. What beauty! He’s almost too perfect to be human.”

Though he had heard tales of the Emperor’s dangerous temper, Hans couldn’t suppress the budding desire to charm him. Cassion was not only breathtakingly beautiful but also the most powerful man in the empire. If he could catch the Emperor’s eye, Hans thought, he could secure a position far more stable and rewarding than being Maxim’s plaything.

“I may have a son, but my looks are still exceptional. At every noble gathering, I always draw attention first. Surely even the Emperor would find me intriguing.”

Hans let a sly smirk creep onto his face, imagining the possibilities. Levinia, inexperienced and naive, couldn’t possibly hold Cassion’s attention for long.

But Cassion’s next movement shattered Hans’s fantasy. The Emperor uncrossed his long legs, placing his teacup on the table with a soft clink.

“Bring it in,” he commanded, his voice low and icy.

At his signal, a line of servants entered the room, each carrying a small tray with a silver goblet on top. The five servants moved wordlessly, placing the trays in front of Maxim, Zelenka, Hans, and the two maids accompanying them.

The group exchanged uneasy glances, their nerves fraying under the weight of the Emperor’s chilling silence.

“Drink,” Cassion ordered, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Their gazes fell to the goblets, each filled with a deep red liquid that shimmered like wine. Its scent was rich and intoxicating, but an overwhelming sense of dread settled over them.

“What is this?” Maxim’s mind raced. “Surely it’s not… poison?”

The unease blossomed into full-blown panic, and Maxim, trembling, threw himself to the floor in desperation.

“Y-Your Majesty! Please, have mercy! Levinia is here, is she not? What would she think if she learned I had been executed by Your Majesty’s hand?”

His frantic plea sent a ripple of terror through the others, who now stared at the goblets as though they contained death itself.

Cassion, watching Maxim grovel, let out a faint, amused chuckle.

“Do you truly think she would know or care? If I were to kill you all here, no one would be the wiser. Those who speak of it would lose their tongues and their eyes. Officially, the Duke and Duchess of Wendell will be reported as having left the country. As for you, Duchess,” Cassion turned his icy gaze to Zelenka, “you will have met an unfortunate accident while traveling abroad.”

“P-Please, Your Majesty!” Zelenka cried, dropping to her knees. Though she had no idea what crime they had committed to incur his wrath, the terror in Cassion’s voice left no doubt—he intended to see them dead.

Seeing their mistress fall to her knees, the maids quickly followed suit, trembling as they pressed their foreheads to the floor. Even Hans, who had briefly entertained delusions of grandeur, felt the icy grip of fear tighten around his heart.

“Enough with the noise,” Cassion said coldly, cutting off Zelenka’s sobbing pleas. “Drink. The first to finish will be spared.”

Despite Cassion’s command to drink, Zelenka hesitated, glancing nervously at the Emperor as if seeking confirmation. She couldn’t be sure whether the liquid in the goblet was poison or not.

Maxim, however, didn’t wait. Driven by fear—or perhaps the instinct to act before anyone else—he quickly grabbed the goblet and brought it to his lips. His action set off a chain reaction: the two maids and Hans followed suit, lifting their goblets to drink. Finally, Zelenka, worried she would lose her chance for survival, reluctantly gulped down the liquid.

“It tastes like… wine?” Zelenka thought, but her nerves weren’t eased. There was a strange, almost chemical aftertaste, one that left her pale with dread. She wasn’t alone—everyone else wore the same ashen expression.

From his seat, Cassion watched them with an amused, almost lazy smile. Even in his cruelty, his beauty was overwhelming.

“Now,” he said, his voice smooth and cold, “it seems you’re ready to talk.”

Though his smile was dazzling, there was an unmistakable edge of menace behind it. Hans, who had briefly considered seducing the Emperor, now bitterly regretted the thought. “This man is completely unhinged,” he realized. “A tyrant through and through. No wonder Maxim was so terrified of him.”

The maids, trembling, cast furtive glances at each other. They seemed to be bracing for someone to collapse from the supposed poison, but nothing happened—yet. The servants who had brought the goblets swiftly retrieved the empty ones and left the room without a word. The heavy doors shut behind them with a deep thud, the sound echoing ominously in the vast space.

It felt like the final nail in a coffin.

“Coming to see Levinia while I was conveniently in a council meeting… how very rat-like of you,” Cassion drawled, his icy gaze fixed on Maxim.

Maxim lowered his head even further, trembling under the weight of the Emperor’s words. He had heard rumors of how much Cassion cherished Levinia, but he had foolishly hoped he could avoid the Emperor’s wrath. Now, he realized how mistaken he had been.

“I’ve seen many parents grovel for the lives of their children,” Cassion continued, his voice calm yet laced with venom. “Even the most despicable scum seem to show a sliver of familial affection. It’s curious, isn’t it? The bonds between villains—they never seem to care for one another, and yet, when it comes to their kin…”

Though Cassion was notorious as a tyrant, he had, on rare occasions, shown mercy to those who displayed genuine love or loyalty. While he mocked such sentiments openly, he occasionally found them worthy of respect. This, however, was not one of those times.

“And yet…” Cassion’s voice turned colder. “The so-called parents of the Wendell Lady only show up now? A parent who truly cared would have camped outside the palace gates the moment she returned, begging for news of her health. But you? You didn’t even send a single messenger.”

Maxim’s face drained of color as the Emperor’s words cut deeper. Meanwhile, Cassion’s thoughts turned dark as he pieced things together. Levinia had confessed to attempting to escape, which meant Albert had lied to him about her being kidnapped. But that lie didn’t bother Cassion—it was clear Albert had done so to save her life.

What truly enraged him was what Albert’s actions revealed: Maxim had abandoned Levinia. Instead of deploying the resources of Wendell’s household to search for her, Albert had been forced to turn to the Emperor himself, risking everything to do so.

And now, these cowards dared to show their faces in his palace?

“They have some kind of ulterior motive, no doubt,” Cassion thought, his lip curling in disgust. He had already had their movements investigated and knew they hadn’t even sent a single letter of concern during Levinia’s recovery.

“Leeches. Bloodsuckers clinging to Levinia.”

When Cassion received word of their arrival during his council meeting, his fury had been instantaneous. He had adjourned the meeting and stormed back to the Rose Palace, ordering the Wendell couple and their entourage to be brought before him.

“And to think,” Cassion continued, his voice brimming with disdain, “that you would barge into my palace without even the courtesy of sending a letter to request an audience. Such arrogance! I can only assume this is how you behave everywhere—demanding grand treatment without offering the bare minimum of respect.”

With every word, the oppressive air in the room grew heavier. The Emperor’s barely contained fury radiated in waves, suffocating the kneeling group.

“And now,” Cassion said, his voice dropping to an almost dangerous whisper, “you sneak in here, intent on harassing a daughter who hasn’t even fully recovered, all for the sake of whatever petty purpose you came here to achieve. Isn’t that right?”

His piercing gaze moved to Maxim and Zelenka, who both flinched as if physically struck. The Duke and Duchess pressed their foreheads to the floor, terrified of being the first to face the Emperor’s wrath.

“I believe it’s only proper,” Cassion continued, his tone mocking, “that the one with the most power begins. So, Wendell Duke—raise your head. I am speaking to you.”

The room descended into utter chaos as Maxim’s panicked confession unraveled everything. His trembling voice broke through the silence, every word damning him further.

“I… I thought Levinia might provoke Your Majesty into harming me… I was scared she’d—”