WTSP - 8

“One dance, Empress.” Serdelius’ final words echoed in my ears like a reverberation. I almost felt the need to pinch my cheek to confirm I wasn’t dreaming.

Dancing at formal events carried layers of meaning.

Unengaged noblewomen and noblemen often requested dances from those who caught their eye. Married individuals typically danced with their spouses or children—it was tradition.

Thus, asking someone of the opposite sex for a waltz without any romantic interest was considered highly unusual within the Carlot Empire.

Of course, there were instances where the emperor might invite another empress to dance after his initial waltz with the empress. For example, it was said that the previous emperor favored his first empress far more than the queen herself—Serdelius’ mother.

But the situation now was different, wasn’t it? Everyone knew how deeply smitten Serdelius was with Brilline. Even stray dogs passing by could tell.

“Is my proposal so unwelcome?”

“No, it’s just... Give me a moment to think...”

“You truly are a strange woman. An empress hesitating to accept a dance invitation from the emperor—now that’s a rarity.”

He gazed down at me with an arrogant expression, clearly expecting an immediate answer.

His bewilderment was understandable. If this had been Uriel, the first empress, she wouldn’t have hesitated for even a second. After all, dancing with the emperor symbolized favor.

…And speaking of which, I could swear Uriel was glaring daggers at me right now.

As my silence dragged on, the banquet hall grew noisier with whispers among the nobles. Queen Brilline, hidden behind the crowd, was nowhere to be seen.

The resolve I’d made as the author—to bring these two together—wavered.

“It’s purely political. Don’t get the wrong idea. Shall we proceed?”

Just as I thought prolonging this any further might lead to trouble, he murmured softly enough for only me to hear.

Finally, I nodded and rose, taking Serdelius’ hand.

‘Ah, of course. This is actually a relief.’

The emperor’s decision to make Ophelia Meredith an empress was entirely political—a neutral stance. As if declaring his refusal to side with any extreme faction, he turned toward the stage. It was so quintessentially Serdelius.

As we moved to the center of the banquet hall, a miracle akin to Moses parting the Red Sea unfolded. The spacious dance floor cleared effortlessly, leaving only the two of us.

Soon, the musicians resumed their performance. The melody flowed smoothly, like sunlight breaking over rippling water, tickling everyone’s ears.

Thankfully, I’d briefly learned the waltz in my youth. My father insisted world-class fencers should understand high society culture, so I attended dance classes. Never did I imagine I’d use those lessons here.

I placed my right hand on Serdelius’ shoulder and lifted my chin slightly. True to his imperial bearing, he excelled at the waltz.

Despite his imposing exterior, his touch was surprisingly gentle—so much so that I felt as though I were dancing on clouds.

After completing a reverse turn under his guidance, I met his gaze. What was going through his mind? His emotions remained unreadable.

“Step.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

At the moment our eyes locked, I accidentally stepped lightly on his foot. Though it must’ve hurt, Serdelius didn’t flinch.

“The shoes, necklace, jewels—they don’t suit you either.”

“The things that compose me don’t necessarily represent who I am.”

As he gently spun me to the left and took a step closer, Serdelius spoke.

“...You once said something similar.”

For a fleeting moment, nostalgia flickered in his green eyes before vanishing.

Though he hadn’t specified who “you” referred to, a flood of memories suddenly washed over me.

‘Ah, so that’s why...’

The tragic woman who became empress but never received the emperor’s love and eventually passed away.

He must’ve been thinking of his late mother.

This backstory was one of my deliberate choices—every male lead in a romance novel needed a heart-wrenching past.

Having lost his mother at a young age, the crown prince gradually grew cynical about the world. He believed he would never love anyone for the rest of his life—until he met Brilline, the heroine.

‘He must’ve suffered greatly. Growing up alone under such a domineering father...’

As I gazed into Serdelius’ green eyes, my heart fluttered faintly. He stared back at me with an unwavering gaze, stirring an indescribable emotion within me.

When the music finally stopped, the emperor bowed and kissed the back of my hand after the last step.

“Let’s meet again after your next bath.”

With that cryptic whisper audible only to me, Serdelius disappeared into the crowd.

To others, it sounded like an intimate, flirtatious remark. But I vaguely understood his intent.

‘Was he always such a sly character?’

Our official meeting three days ago had also occurred “after a bath.” Was this his way of warning me to curb my escapades? It was a difficult statement to interpret.

Suddenly drained, I felt like collapsing onto a bed.

But as I trudged back to my seat, an endless procession of nobles awaited me. Men and women, young and old, stood in line, leaving me bewildered.

“Excuse me, but who might you be...?”

“Ah! Your Imperial Highness. I’m Luther, eldest son of the Pearson earldom. If it’s not too much trouble, may I present you with a gift?”

“Out of the way, Pearson heir. Your Imperial Highness, I am Michio Quintum. Soon to inherit a marquisate.”

Each of them flaunted their prestigious lineage.

Suddenly, the image of the three idiot knights from a few days ago flashed in my mind. So, summarizing: the reason these haughty nobles formed such a long line was...

‘Because the emperor danced with me. They see me as a new lifeline.’

Even so, the contrast between their earlier indifference and current eagerness was staggering.

Hiding my slightly exasperated expression, I sat down. To bolster the Meredith family’s influence, I needed to build connections with these people.

But where to start? Sighing at the sight of the densely packed nobles, I realized being an empress was harder than I’d imagined.

“Excuse me.”

At that moment, a commanding voice rang out, and once again, I witnessed the parting of the sea.

Another power player had arrived, causing the nobles to glance nervously at one another as they stepped aside.

From behind them emerged a woman whose heels clicked rhythmically against the floor as she approached me.

One trial after another—it seemed I wouldn’t catch a break anytime soon.

“So you’re the fourth empress.”

Her fiery red hair swayed like flames.

Uriel Carlot, the antagonist of A Common Girl Becomes Empress, fixed me with her signature icy glare. The atmosphere around her chilled to winter-like temperatures within a three-meter radius.

But why was she approaching me? As a member of a prestigious family, Uriel rarely acknowledged anyone other than the emperor and empress.

In fact, apart from her rivalry with the empress, the other empresses barely featured in the story. Uriel existed solely to dethrone Brilline.

Tonight’s 420th Founding Anniversary Banquet was supposed to feature a fierce clash between Brilline and Uriel.

It was the scene where Brilline, who had endured bullying silently until now, finally struck back at Uriel. Humiliated, the villainess would retreat to her chambers, smashing objects in anger as she plotted her next move.

‘Even though I created her, she’s honestly terrifying.’

Ugh, chilling. Suppressing a shudder, I met Uriel’s gaze.

‘Could she possibly mistake me for the empress? Brilline’s sitting over there in the elevated seat.’

If I dared say that, she might freeze me with her glare alone.

Not wanting to cause further commotion, I politely bowed and opened my mouth.

“Empress Uriel. To what do I owe the honor...?”

“I wanted to speak with you. I heard you’ve captured His Majesty’s heart.”

Uriel’s cultured voice dripped with disdain as she looked me over.

Clearly, her words weren’t an invitation for sincere conversation. Despite being here for a week, I still struggled to decode the nobility’s manner of speech.

Unsurprisingly, Uriel showed no intention of engaging in normal dialogue. Tilting her chin upward to look down on me, she smirked cruelly and whispered:

“I have ambitions—goals so significant you can’t even imagine. So... consider this a warning to stay out of my way.”

Did anyone in this banquet hall not know that the first empress coveted the throne? Even Brilline and Serdelius were aware.

Yet no one dared challenge her because of her unshakable backing. Who would risk offending an empress with such formidable support?

I responded to her warning with an awkward smile.

Even without the Solian dukedom’s influence, Uriel was intelligent and ambitious. She possessed the ability to eliminate any rival who irritated her without lifting a finger.

After scrutinizing me with narrowed eyes, Uriel turned and vanished, perhaps believing she’d successfully intimidated me.

As soon as she disappeared, the surrounding nobles resumed their chatter. The long line reformed, stretching endlessly.

Pressing my palm to my forehead, I sighed deeply.

Truly, it was one mountain after another. I could already foresee the challenges awaiting me until the banquet ended.

Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—the confrontation between Uriel and Brilline from the original novel didn’t occur.

Was my created world twisting itself? Events meant to unfold according to the plot were being suppressed.

Before I could ponder an answer, voices calling for me filled my ears. Rubbing my face dry, I raised my head.

The task ahead was clear: to embody Ophelia while winning people over.

Alright, let’s begin.