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“Ah-choo!”
“Oh, Your Highness… What am I going to do with you? You’re already so frail, and now you’ve caught a cold.”
“I guess taking that bath yesterday wasn’t such a good idea. I feel worse than before.”
Why do ominous premonitions always turn out to be true? I had assumed Ophelia’s body could handle a little rainwater, but clearly, I was wrong.
Up until I went to bed last night, I’d only felt slightly chilled—no signs of a cold at all.
Maybe it was because I spent an entire hour luxuriating in the most extravagant bath, leaving me drowsy and relaxed.
The imperial palace of Carlot drew water from nearby hot springs. Even in Korea, I hadn’t experienced such luxurious onsen baths very often. Immersed in the warm water, surrounded by floating rose petals and various herbs, how peaceful it had been!
Who would have imagined bathing in a tub filled with such botanical wonders?
‘I should’ve just crawled under the covers and gone straight to sleep.’
Regretting it now wouldn’t change anything. With another explosive sneeze, I spread a blanket over my knees.
Ignoring Lena’s distressed expression, I downed the powdered medicine prescribed by the royal physician in one gulp.
“Ugh, it’s bitter. Why do all things that are good for you taste so bad?”
“You have to finish it, Your Highness. If Lord Meredith finds out, it’ll be a disaster.”
“Don’t tell Father or my brothers about this, Lena. Promise me?”
If those three men who treated Ophelia like a delicate flower found out about this situation, all hell would break loose.
Especially Lord Meredith—he’d rush to the empress’s quarters in no time. My head was already throbbing painfully; I couldn’t deal with unwelcome visitors right now.
I shook my head firmly, extracting a promise from Lena. Reluctantly nodding, she wore a look of despair.
“You have no idea how worried I am, Your Highness. Every time you fall ill, I wish I could take your place.”
In the past, I might have questioned her sincerity, but thanks to Ophelia’s fully restored memories, I now understood that Lena truly cared for me.
Lena and Ophelia had grown up together like friends since they were eight years old.
Lena had started working for the baronial family at a very young age.
Her mother had also been a servant in the Meredith household, but tragically, five years ago, she was struck by a carriage and lost her life. The noble son of Baron Rainfault, who had been riding in the carriage, didn’t even glance back as he disappeared down the road.
The life of a commoner wasn’t worth much to him. If he had taken Lena’s mother to a doctor immediately, she might have survived.
At just seventeen, Lena cried until she nearly fainted several times that day. Eventually, tears stopped flowing, and she sobbed dryly, overwhelmed by grief.
The image of Lena in Ophelia’s memories was utterly heart-wrenching.
What must it feel like to lose both parents before reaching adulthood?
My father, Lord Meredith, was a nobleman who cherished and loved his servants like family.
Naturally, he went to the family responsible for the accident and demanded an apology.
“Do you think your reckless behavior should harm our entire household? If you don’t apologize to this girl immediately, I’ll sever all agricultural trade with House Rainfault.”
“But how can I, a nobleman, apologize to some lowly maid!”
“To disrespect our household’s servants is to insult me, their lord!”
The third son of House Rainfault begrudgingly apologized to Lena, the maid. Though no compensation could fill the void of her loss, Lena found some solace in the gesture.
“This girl is incredibly brave. It’s not easy to rise again after such deep sorrow.”
With Lord Meredith’s help, Lena held a proper funeral. Three days later, she returned to the mansion with the same bright and loving demeanor, resuming her duties as if nothing had changed.
When Ophelia asked if she was really okay and suggested she take more time off, Lena replied cheerfully:
“If not me, who will protect you, my lady? Were you lonely while I was gone? I’ll stay by your side all day now.”
Then and now, Lena remained Ophelia’s closest friend.
What would she do if she ever discovered I wasn’t the real Ophelia?
Lost in thought, Lena suddenly appeared with a jar of candy, placing one sweet into my mouth.
“You can only have one. Too much sugar isn’t good for you.”
“You’re the only one who takes care of me like this, Lena.”
Just then, a commotion came from the door. As I rolled the grape-flavored candy around in my mouth, I turned my head toward the source of the noise.
Had someone arrived? The cacophony made my feverish cheeks flush even more.
After nodding to Lena, who went to investigate, I turned my gaze to the window.
I wondered how Pompoo was doing.
Stuck inside all day due to this unexpected cold, I hadn’t been able to go outside. Consequently, Pompoo had been visibly bored since morning.
How could I stop such a cute, fluffy creature from tapping the window, signaling his intention to step out for fresh air?
I told him to enjoy the breeze and return quickly, but worrying about where he might bounce off to was inevitable.
‘He’s probably excitedly exploring every corner of the palace right now… I hope no one spots him.’
Lost in thoughts of my unexpected companion spirit, Lena returned with a flustered expression.
What was going on? Blinking, I pulled the blanket tighter as she whispered softly:
“Your Highness, Her Majesty the Empress is here. She wishes to see you.”
“Huh? Without any notice?”
Lena seemed just as startled as I was. What could Brilline want, coming all the way to the empress’s quarters?
Regardless of her reason, Brilline was the empress. I couldn’t keep her waiting too long.
Struggling to my feet, I signaled to Lena with a nod—it was a nonverbal cue that she could let Brilline in.
As soon as Lena opened the door, Brilline entered the room wearing a sapphire gown. I awkwardly bowed my head in greeting.
Since the brunch invitation, we hadn’t met alone even once. After all, interactions between an empress and her concubines weren’t common.
Especially when they were rivals fighting for the emperor’s affection.
‘Could she have heard about me being with Serdelius yesterday?’
Brilline sat across from me, smiling faintly as she gazed at me with an unreadable expression. Her crimson lips parted, whispering words of concern.
“I heard you caught a cold. Are you feeling alright?”
“Ah, yes… Did you hear about my illness from the physician?”
“There are thousands of eyes and ears in the palace. It’s better not to know too much.”
Brilline shrugged casually, tucking her wavy brown hair behind her ear.
Despite staying indoors to avoid rumors, how had word of my condition reached the empress?
Watching her leisurely take out a piece of candy left me feeling confused.
No matter how I thought about it, the Brilline I created wasn’t like this.
The idea that my writing had somehow shifted due to my presence in A Common Girl Becomes Empress weighed heavily on my mind. There was no other explanation for this change.
‘It’s like traveling back in time and naturally altering the future. Maybe this situation is similar.’
For some reason, I felt a mix of melancholy and novelty. Characters I had created were now acting independently of my control.
This emotion felt oddly familiar—like the frustration I used to feel when my writing stalled.
Suddenly, memories of struggling to figure out how characters would behave flooded back.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. It’s kind of you to visit despite your busy schedule.”
“I told you—I like you. To let you catch a cold in the rain… His Majesty was careless.”
Was she referring to my outing with Serdelius in the garden?
The Brilline I wrote was gentle and cheerful but particularly sensitive about Serdelius.
Honestly, if I were in her shoes, I’d feel jealous too. Especially with four empresses vying for attention.
It was only natural that Brilline developed a strong sense of possessiveness.
But the woman before me didn’t seem angry. On the contrary, she almost appeared to be enjoying the situation.
‘Could she dislike me spending time with the male lead?’ Yet, there was no way to ask outright.
“I’m genuinely worried about you, Empress Ophelia. Spring is approaching, but catching a cold in winter isn’t pleasant.”
Brilline spoke in a relaxed tone, as if reading my thoughts.
Had I accidentally voiced my inner musings again? I rolled my eyes nervously.
Or was my expression that easy to read?
“They say cinnamon tea is good for colds. If you’re fine with it… Hmm, did another visitor arrive?”
A soft knock interrupted her languid voice.
After Brilline nodded permission, I signaled to Lena. Opening the door hesitantly, Lena looked startled, like a rabbit, as she accepted a tray holding a teacup and teapot.
“Ah, His Imperial Majesty sent this tea to help with your cold,” Lena whispered quietly, glancing at Brilline.
Rumors of the empress disliking her concubines were apparently widespread among the maids.
...And Serdelius sent me tea?
I stole a glance at Brilline. Even as empress, she couldn’t refuse a gift from the emperor, but I sensed her unease.
Fortunately, she didn’t seem inclined to object.
“I’m fine. Drink it all—it must have been carefully chosen by His Majesty.”
Brilline likely hadn’t anticipated visiting my quarters, as there was only one teacup.
Nodding lightly, I grasped the handle of the cup. The steeped tea was a beautiful crimson, reminiscent of autumn leaves. Its aroma was subtle yet intriguing.
Despite its appearance, it probably tasted awful. I tilted my head anxiously.
Still, if Serdelius sent it, it would surely work wonders for my cold.
“Excuse me for a moment.”
Seeking permission, I raised the cup. But something about Brilline’s gaze unsettled me. Just as I brought the cup to my lips, she grabbed my wrist tightly.
Crash! The glass shattered into dozens of pieces, scattering across the floor.
Wide-eyed, I locked gazes with Brilline Carlot, the heroine of A Common Girl Becomes Empress.
“What’s going on?”
Her piercing eyes, sharp as shards of glass, were...
“Your Majesty?”