Turning around and ignoring the attendants, Cecile picked up a chair lined up against the corridor wall. The sudden movement caused her to flinch from the pain. Had she been hurt when she threw herself against the door? Cecile shook her head; she would deal with it later. Ignoring the throbbing in her shoulder, she carried the chair towards the door and lifted it above her head. “Move aside, all of you!” Cecile growled.
“Your Majesty—!” Forget what the palace law states, the attendants had to stop the empress! They were on the precipice of witnessing the first instance in history where an empress smashed apart the emperor’s bedroom door because he stopped visiting her… and as an added bonus, they would surely be recorded alongside her for the sin of failing to prevent it from happening!
Cecile ignored the attendants and flung the chair towards the door with all the strength she could muster. Her eyes shut as she braced for the reverberations from the impact… but there was no sound nor impact.
“Eh?” Not feeling the sensation that she had steeled herself for, Cecile slowly opened her eyes, and sucked in a large breath of air in surprise. The door was open. “Your Majesty…” Cecile murmured.
In front of her stood Estian, holding on to the chair Cecile had swung with all her might. His dark eyes were burning with an intense emotion as they gazed at her. He tugged the chair out of her hand and tossed it away. It was a light motion, but the chair was sent flying across to the far end of the corridor, where it collided against the wall and smashed into smithereens.
“Y-your Majesty!” The attendants fell to their knees in unison. It was the empress’s death sentence. Who would’ve guessed today would be the day they’d be clearing the empress’s corpse from the main palace? There was no doubt in their minds that her end would be no different from the chair that had been sent flying a second ago. Although they were accustomed to the sight of blood, it was not a pleasant scene, so they all shut their eyes tight in anticipation.
To their surprise, there was no groans of a person in their death throes. Instead, they heard Cecile yelp in surprise. Raising their heads, they saw Estian embrace the empress by the waist and cart her back into his chamber. The door shut firmly behind them, leaving behind a corridor full of confused attendants.
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Cecile fell onto the bed with a whump. She tried to lift herself to alleviate the pressure on her injured shoulder, but found herself pushed down again as Estian climbed on top of her. He wordlessly buried his face into the nape of her neck. “Your Majesty? Are you alright… Hmph!”
‘What’s going on? How’d things end up like this?’ Cecile’s mind hadn’t caught up to what was happening. For a split second, it had seemed like Estian was about to pick her up and toss her like he had done with the chair. Instead, he lifted her by the waist, dragged her straight into the room, and threw her onto his bed. Despite the disorienting situation, one thing was clear—the sound was gone.
The strange sound that hadn’t let up even as she was swinging the chair had completely vanished the moment she was carried inside. Cecile felt her tension ease as she glanced at Estian, who appeared safe and sound… although he was acting weirdly. This man who hadn’t visited her in four days or spared her a single word was now clutching onto her with a death grip. What on earth was this contradictory behavior? He was acting like a parched wanderer in the desert that had stumbled upon an oasis.
Estian’s breathing was labored and erratic, like someone who was spent after an intense chase. He locked Cecile in an embrace for a long moment, before muttering, “It’s gone. The sound’s gone.”
“What? What sound…? Oh! Are you referring to that strange sound?” Cecile replied, feeling a flood of relief that she hadn’t imagined those horrible sounds. She’d honestly wondered if she had gone insane when the attendants all denied hearing any sounds and looked at her like she was a madwoman.
Estian immediately raised himself up, and scrutinized her. “Cecile. How are you able to hear Eugendiph’s voice?” He asked menacingly. The gaze directed towards her chilled Cecile to the bone.
“Your Majesty?” Cecile stuttered. “Eugendiph? What’s Eugendiph?” She was puzzled by Estian’s line of questioning. Was Eugendiph the owner of that voice? She lapsed into thought as she tried to sort through the conversation.
Estian raised himself off the bed and stood towering over Cecile. The next words he uttered were said in an unusually deep voice. “Who in the world are you?”
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