“I may accept you as empress, but I will never allow you to become empress dowager.”
It was a firm declaration of intent—Sophia’s demands would be met, but the empire’s political stability would never be put at risk.
Hearing this, Sophia remained silent for a moment before grasping the meaning behind his words.
She understood why the prince was willing to reject even the rightful privileges granted to the imperial family and himself.
He hadn’t stated it outright, but his intentions were unmistakable.
Sophia couldn’t help but feel a momentary sting of humiliation.
After all, she was still nobility—a member of the royal family, no less. But she had been the one to bring up this matter first.
So, she steadied herself with a few deep breaths and regained her composure.
Then, with a smile that had never surfaced before, she looked directly at the prince, signaling that she had fully recovered from her initial shock.
The only thing she needed now was certainty.
“So, in short, we’re agreeing to cheat on each other?”
There was no need for elaborate wording. The two had clashed too many times for such formalities to matter.
Where once they would have circled around the issue until exhaustion set in, they could now speak without pretense. The prince took it a step further, nodding without hesitation at Sophia’s blunt remark.
“We will turn a blind eye for each other. A fair negotiation, wouldn’t you say?”
“Fine. Now that I’ve heard your reasons, let’s hear the one you’ve prepared for me.”
As soon as those words were spoken, their gazes met in midair.
A subtle change flickered across the prince’s expression.
His eyebrows tensed ever so slightly, and a faint vein stood out on his forehead.
Countless thoughts must have been racing through his mind as he assessed Sophia’s reaction. She, too, was making her own calculations.
Then, she raised her hand to partially cover her mouth—but not entirely.
The prince saw it. The corner of her lips, barely concealed, curling upward.
The intent was clear. Malice so pure it left no room for doubt.
Yet it was nothing more than a childish prank, a mere trifle to him. Had he not endured far greater trials? Feeling the flicker of irritation cool within him, the prince spoke.
“…The reason I am allowing you this is because you have found love.”
The response was so far from what Sophia expected that she was momentarily dumbfounded.
The prince—her long-time adversary. Did he really claim to be acting out of mere goodwill?
She couldn’t believe it.
The man before her moved as if every word and action were meticulously planned solely for the salvation and survival of the empire.
This was the same man who had once burned an entire city to the ground for his homeland, who had weighed not just the lives of thousands of soldiers but even his own existence on the scales of war.
This was also the man who had willingly relinquished his claim to the imperial family name and all its privileges, fearing that his coronation might spark a succession war with Serbia.
And now, he spoke of goodwill?
Nothing could be more absurd.
Sophia responded with a smirk mixed with mockery.
“You might as well join hands with the Turks. That sounds more plausible.”
It was a statement made precisely because it was an impossibility.
For a fallen empire to survive, it had to reclaim its lost territories.
For a rising Ottoman power to truly ascend, it had to conquer Constantinople.
The two could never coexist under the same sky.
Their inevitable conflict guaranteed the utter downfall of one side.
And there was no doubt about what the prince, devoted to preserving his empire, would choose.
Yet, instead of refuting her sarcasm, the prince merely shrugged.
“It seems I have been misunderstood. Allow me to explain in more detail.”
“Misunderstood? And where exactly is there room for misunderstanding?”
“Indeed. I envied you, for you had the courage to declare that you had found love.”
Envy?
As Sophia stared in disbelief, the prince’s gaze drifted into the distance, his eyes tinged with regret.
What was it that he was looking back on with such remorse? She couldn’t even begin to guess.
And then, he began to speak.
“At first, I didn’t even understand why I felt envy. There were too many pressing matters, and I never had the time to dwell on it. But now, I finally understand.”
From an early age, he had been acutely aware of the empire’s grim reality. He had searched tirelessly for something—anything—that he could do to change its fate.
Even if he was an outsider from a distant future, the sight of the capital’s wretched state must have been enough to stir his sense of duty.
A thousand-year-old city? The city of cities?
Once a beacon of prosperity, it had become a place where sighs of resignation and despair weighed heavier than air itself.
A city where people, unable to bear reality, clung desperately to past glories.
In that moment, as the faint breath of a dying nation brushed against his face, the prince had realized the weight of his royal blood—the duty and responsibility it carried.
How cruel it was.
How heavy it was.
And so, even when he was granted a rare and precious opportunity, he had to cast it aside without hesitation.
—For he was nothing more than a prince of a doomed nation.
When the moment of destruction came, the conquerors would never allow imperial blood to remain. Nor would they spare those closely tied to the royal family.
Better to sever all ties from the start than to subject them to disgrace.
That resolve was what had carried him this far.
He did not regret that choice.
But he had come to realize—it was not enough.
And so, he would not walk just one path.
“I had forgotten something fundamental.”
Duty and responsibility alone could not sustain an empire on the brink of ruin.
Had the people of this world not always lived bearing their own duties and responsibilities?
The empire had reached this state because its people had mistaken their obligations as something exclusive to themselves, fighting amongst one another in their self-imposed burdens.
What he could do, others could do as well.
His duty was not his alone.
And neither was his desire.
Morea had achieved miraculous victories not because of his strategies.
But because its soldiers had believed in him enough to risk death itself.
That was what changed history.
For history, or the tides of fate, was not shaped by a single person.
But by people.
“Talent alone accomplishes nothing. Even the most capable ruler can achieve nothing if they do not have the trust of the people. That is a lesson I have learned all too well. And so, I will gather their faith.”
If the soldiers of Morea had doubted him—if they had refused to follow his plan to burn Nemephatre to the ground—this war would never have even begun.
And yet, they had obeyed.
Three hundred of them had chosen to fight to the last man rather than surrender.
Even amidst the horrors of retreat, the number of deserters had been barely a handful.
They had stayed, despite overwhelming odds, despite suffering humiliation after humiliation—because they believed in him.
They believed that he was the empire’s last hope.
“And yet, how could one who seeks the trust of the people remain ignorant of human relationships?”
That was why the prince could no longer turn away from what he had once dismissed.
He would learn.
This conversation was the first step.
It might seem like a return to a path he had once abandoned for the empire’s sake.
But it was too late to turn back.
Instead, from now on, he would not only look forward—he would occasionally glance sideways as well.
Ivania had been the first.
And when he was certain of his path, he would do something so audacious that all would be left in shock.
“I was the one who was lacking.”
A single phrase he had once uttered had left a woman before him deathly pale.
Now, looking back, he felt only shame.
Why had he called her lacking?
The truth was, the one who had been lacking—was himself.
Somewhere along the way, he had begun to believe that the salvation and survival of the empire rested on his shoulders alone.
That was arrogance.
A ruler who walked alone could never achieve the salvation he truly sought.
An empire that could only stand under the rule of a perfect monarch would crumble the moment that monarch was gone.
And now, at last, the prince had accepted everything.
He acknowledged that he had been unreasonable, that he had only considered a single path while neglecting others, that the emotions gradually accumulating in his heart were real, and lastly, that his arrogance in believing he alone could save and sustain the empire had been wrong.
A leader is not someone who does everything alone.
A leader is one who guides.
And what people truly needed was neither mountains of gold nor honour that everyone revered.
To begin with, an empire that had already fallen into complete decline and ruin had no such things left.
Instead, he would reclaim what the empire had lost for a very long time.
Only then would the empire be saved.
Not by the prince, but by the people themselves.
“That must be why I envied your choice to embrace your relationship, despite the inevitable criticism. Watching you boldly pursue what I had deliberately ignored.”
“…There is no one in this world who would feel envy for such a reason.”
“In any case, that is one of the reasons I prepared this for you. And also why I am asking for your cooperation.”
“…You are truly a ruthless man.”
Sophia let out a sigh, filled not with shock, but with admiration.
He had sought to understand how to earn people’s trust and, in doing so, had accepted the very passion he had long ignored?
To those who sought power, such a notion was utter madness.
Even if the empire had declined, he still held the position of emperor of what had once ruled the world.
And yet, he abandoned that position—for emotions he had long disregarded and for the future of the empire.
How could one not sigh at such a thing?
It was almost astonishing that someone like him had emerged among those blinded by the name of the “Millennial Empire,” who had been so quick to turn their blades upon one another.
Now, she understood why she and the prince had continuously clashed.
Though they shared a singular similarity, there had never been a point of intersection between her pursuit of power and his pursuit of the empire’s well-being.
Her assessment of him had not been wrong.
For the sake of the empire, he was willing to be as ruthless as necessary.
And that ruthlessness extended even toward herself.
In the end, Sophia’s shoulders slumped.
She no longer had the energy or will to argue.
The man before her was someone who had even embraced affection for the sake of the empire’s salvation.
Compared to his unwavering resolve to protect his homeland, how insignificant were her own ambitions?
Moreover, she was sharp enough to perceive the unspoken reason behind his actions.
Before deciding on marriage with her, the prince had once been engaged to another woman.
She was taken as empress by the current emperor to secure an alliance with the imperial family.
Sophia was certain.
Abandoning the imperial name and status must also carry the meaning of atonement. Atonement for what he had done. And at the same time, a declaration—a declaration that he was prepared to endure the people’s condemnation.
Furthermore, it must have been tied to his decision to relinquish the throne. He was already taking measures to solidify the position of an unknown successor.
Having thought this far, Sophia accepted her “defeat” without hesitation.
“I can’t argue anymore. Very well, Your Highness. I now understand that your words hold sufficient persuasion.”
“…If your conclusion is going to sound so negative, you should have rejected me outright from the beginning, my lady.”
“First, I’d like to address the fundamental flaw in Your Highness’s premise.”
“And what part do you find unsatisfactory?”
“It’s not about dissatisfaction—it’s simply reality.”
Sophia’s expression was different from before.
The usual arrogance or mocking smirk on her lips were no more.
“…The one I held in my heart is already dead. And has been for years.”
“Half a year is more than enough time to find new love.”
The prince was resolute.
At his response, the faint expectation Sophia had unknowingly harboured dissolved like melting snow.
He is needlessly consistent in such matters.
She couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud, only muttering it inwardly before continuing.
“…Do you know who did it? Do you know why a woman like me was able to wield such influence over my father in the Serbian court?”
“…I see.”
Even amidst the chaos of war, his insight allowed him to piece things together in an instant.
Letting out a sigh, the prince lifted his gaze to the ceiling.
She had avoided explicitly naming the culprit for the sake of her father’s honor, but her words were practically a confession.
Of course, it was mere guess, but—
For a mere princess, not even a queen, to wield enough influence to shift a nation’s stance in the midst of war was absurd.
And as her words combined with that absurdity, cause and effect became strikingly clear.
“It happened not elsewhere, but in the royal court. I went to my father to find the culprit. Not that it took long to discover them.”
“What kind of person were they?”
“…He was a servant my father had assigned to me. That was likely what sealed his fate.”
“I see.”
Upon hearing her story, the prince could not bring himself to condemn Stefan Lazarević.
He had no sons, only a single cherished daughter.
Not only as a father, but also as a ruler, he had to consider his position.
His most valuable political asset, who could solidify alliances or forge an anti-Ottoman coalition, had fallen for a mere servant.
In modern times, such a thing would be unthinkable.
But this was the twilight of the medieval era.
For the future of his beloved daughter, Stefan had likely wielded the blade without hesitation.
—That is, assuming all of her words were true.
“Madam, even as you say all this, I trust you are well aware of how difficult it is to accept your words at face value.”
“Hmm… So the man who seeks to understand human relationships in order to earn trust cannot bring himself to trust me?”
“…Even if you say that now.”
“Then allow me to teach you something, Your Highness.”
Suddenly, the prince was enveloped in the faint scent of flowers.
Sophia had closed the distance between them in an instant.
Suppressing his instinct to retreat, he stubbornly held his ground and glared at her.
But Sophia, unfazed, simply beamed with an entirely different smile from her usual one—a radiant, unrestrained grin.
“Trust is always paid in advance. Remember that.”
With those words, she retreated just as quickly as she had approached.
Still as unpredictable as ever.
Reaffirming his resolve, the prince pondered the meaning behind her words.
But before he could reach an answer, Sophia spoke first.
“Then allow me to offer you my trust first.”
“And how will you do that?”
“You are aware of the Jewish contacts I manage, aren’t you?”
Of course.
They had made invaluable contributions in this war.
As a people without a nation, they had naturally turned to trade, which made them ideal spies.
This was precisely why the prince had always been wary of Sophia.
And she knew it well.
“I will arrange a meeting with their leader. This is my trust, Your Highness.”
Winking mischievously, Sophia gave him a mysterious smile.
Now that he had resolved to be honest with his emotions, the prince could only look at her with cold, unimpressed eyes.
TL/N : Please don’t create a romance between them. And it was kinda obvious that her lover was a slave.