“Let me through.”
Lord Maximus fidgeted under the harsh stare of Empress Jovine.
“Your Majesty,” he pleaded. “He refuses to see you —”
“Maximus,” Jovine bit out, clenching her fists against the fabric of her gown. “Don’t do this to me. Not you as well.”
The older man looked down at the young Empress, who looked as distressed as she sounded. With bloodshot eyes and the worsening state of her frail body, Empress Jovine was a vision of heartbreak. And, how could she not be?
She was cast aside by his master, and no matter how gracious she had been in the face of all the horrid rumors and the heartless way the Emperor paraded his new mistress around, her despair couldn’t be so easily disguised.
The memory of her as a young girl suddenly flashed through his mind. He remembered seeing her for the first time when he was brought to the Palace by his father, who had served the late Emperor. She was a bright child with a bright mind. Her docile, dutiful nature didn’t escape the eyes of the Court, who either praised her for her refinement or saw the child as a weakness to exploit.
But, back then, he believed the Prince would protect her.
No matter how the young Prince Richard might have tried to hide it, even Lord Maximus could tell he held a fondness for his betrothed.
From the way he allowed himself to smile in front of the timid girl or the small snippets of conversation the older man overheard, it was clear the Prince cared for the girl.
And, when they had finally become man and wife, nothing warmed his heart more than watching the way they cherished one another. Lord Maximus would have even said they were in love.
So, nothing shocked him more than when the Emperor cast his wife aside for another woman.
Unable to deny the pitiful Empress, Lord Maximus stepped aside with his head bowed down.
---
Jovine stopped at the threshold of her husband’s chambers, a place she had not been invited to for a long while. It looked the same, with its rich blue tones painted throughout the room and a large four-poster bed reminding her of the moments she had spent in his arms.
Richard was settled comfortably behind a large, oak desk littered with papers and feathered quills. At the sound of the door closing, he looked up.
His eyes narrowed in displeasure. “I was not to be disturbed.”
“How could you?” she whispered brokenly, trying to suppress the tears she had been holding at bay.
Richard tilted his head in contemplation, studying his haggard wife quivering in shock. “How could I what, Jovine?”
“For months, I have tolerated that woman here. For weeks, I have waited for you to spare me a single glance. And, now, I wake to hear that you have taken her as your mistress?” Jovine’s voice rose with each sentence, the rage of her husband’s betrayal finally breaking the dam of emotions she had been keeping locked away.
Richard grew very still, dropping the quill he had been holding onto the desk. The sound of its clatter echoed throughout the room.
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“What is your issue?” he asked coolly.
Jovine dug her fingers into her palms. “My issue?” She looked at him with pained eyes. “My husband has taken another woman. He has shut me out and left me behind. That is my issue,” she bit out in an unsteady voice.
Richard simply stared back with eyes lacking of any emotion or sympathy. “You have an issue with your Emperor claiming a mistress for himself,” he stated back to her. “Jovine, what did you expect? Did you think I’d be wholeheartedly devoted to you?”
Jovine gaped at her husband’s words.
He continued. “My marriage to you was never a choice. It was another obligation in a long list of duties I was bound to. I never chose you.”
“I don’t understand,” she breathed, shaking her head. “We were happy. We were —”
“You can thank my dear mother for that,” he interjected casually.
What?
“Do you know how much pestering I had to endure from her?” Richard gave a humorless laugh. “The amount of times I’ve had to try and win you over with sweet words and nauseating affection. It was exhausting. But, ‘A happy bride is imperative, Richard. Jovine is now your responsibility. You need her. Make her need you.’ Leave it to my mother to nag about the state of our relationship,” he rambled bitterly.
“No,” she denied. “I don’t believe you. You used to…want me. You promised me your commitment. You desired me in your bed.”
“I won’t deny that you’re a beautiful woman, Jovine. It definitely eased the issue of our consummation. But, can you blame me for getting tired of you? Heavens, if I had known you would be this pathetically needy, I wouldn’t have encouraged any of it,” he said with a scalding tone.
“Richard…”
“Your Majesty,” he corrected with a harsh voice. “Have some respect for me, Empress,” he sneered.
Jovine flinched, stepping away until her back touched the wooden door.
Richard scoffed at the sight as he leaned back in his seat. “Look at you. Meek, little Jovine unable to take the brunt of the truth.”
She could no longer stop the torrent of tears flooding her vision.
None of it was real.
The memories she held so dearly to her heart and the only source of comfort that had allowed her to endure the torture of the past few months were all fabricated.
Cold. Calculating. Manipulative.
Richard was exactly who everyone saw him as.
Jovine used to believe he was better than he let everyone think. She believed she saw the best parts of him peak through the small moments of peace and tenderness they had shared.
But, to think it was never real…
“If you’re going to cry like a child, leave. I have no tolerance for your griping anymore,” Richard spat at her.
Unable to take anymore of his barbs, Jovine turned away from him, her shaking hand touching the cold, metal knob of the door.
She couldn't breathe. She needed to get out.
“Asking me for any more is your greed, Jovine.”
Richard’s voice stopped her, but she couldn’t bear to look back at him.
“I didn’t choose you, but I choose Emilia. As my subject, my happiness is your happiness. I will no longer be lenient with you if I hear any more on this,” he dismissed.
Closing her eyes, Jovine wanted the earth to swallow her whole. Anger. Pain. Betrayal. Denial. The force of all her emotions threatened to crush her, and she would welcome the darkness to the torment of her existence.
Without another word, Jovine left in a state of shock.
“Oh, Jovine!” A cheerful, condescending voice made her wince as she came face-to-face with the beaming Emilia Syrene, the new Royal Concubine of the Theolos Empire.
Disregarding the obvious suffering the Empress was bearing, Emilia chattered on. “Did you hear the wonderful news? We’re family now that we share a husband,” she squeaked, patting Jovine on the cheek.
Jovine stood her ground. If she moved, she feared she would gouge out the eyes of the woman before her.
“Lady Emilia,” Lord Maximus admonished. “Treating the Empress with such disrespect will not be allowed.”
“Oh, hush it, you,” Emilia clucked. “And, you will address me as ‘Your Highness’ from now on. Am I understood?”
Lord Maximus clenched his jaw as Emilia skipped past to greet the Emperor.
“Richard!” Jovine heard her sing in happiness.
She looked back to see the sight of her husband’s bright smile greeting the entrance of his mistress. Before the door slammed shut, she saw Emilia running to place herself on his lap as he welcomed her with beckoning arms.
None of it was real. The thought wouldn’t stop running through her head.
Richard wasn’t real. Their marriage wasn’t real. Her happiness wasn’t real.
Like a mirage, she saw the image of her loving husband standing before her. One who used to smile and adore his wife.
You were never real, she told him.
Walking past the ghost of her husband, she walked into the darkness, allowing it to consume her.