The moon hung heavy over the palace, bathing the chamber in silver light.
Himeka's heart hadn't stopped racing since the throne room.
He spoke for me… He chose me…
Her body trembled with joy, but fear lingered too. Would this be fleeting? Would he return to silence as if nothing had happened?
She entered their private chambers cautiously.
He was there, as always. Standing by the window, crimson eyes fixed on the night sky, white hair glowing faintly under the moonlight.
Her voice cracked. "Why… did you speak?"
No answer. Only the sound of the wind outside.
She took a step closer, her chest aching. "Do you… care for me, even a little?"
His gaze flicked toward her. Cold. Detached. "…You were crying."
Her breath caught. Such simple words. Such emptiness in his tone. And yet, to her, they were heavier than jewels.
She stumbled closer, clutching her robes. "…Then let me cry here. With you. Only you."
She threw her arms around him, pressing her body to his. He didn't embrace her back, but he didn't push her away either.
Her tears soaked into his chest as she whispered, "I love you… I love you so much it hurts. Please, don't be silent tonight. Please… just let me have you."
Still no warmth in his expression, but his hand moved—gripping her chin firmly, tilting her face upward.
Her heart leapt. "…You touched me."
No response.
Then, his lips descended on hers.
It wasn't tender, nor was it passionate. It was steady. Cold. His mouth against hers, as if fulfilling a request rather than answering desire.
But to Himeka, it was everything.
She clutched him desperately, kissing deeper, tears mixing with their breath. "…More. Please… don't stop…"
He complied without hesitation. Not a flicker of emotion, but his touch answered her plea. His hands stripped away silk and lace, leaving her bare beneath his gaze.
She gasped, trembling, as his fingers traced her skin—clinical, deliberate, almost mechanical. Yet her body burned as if she were being branded.
"Ahh…!" Himeka arched against him, clinging tighter. "Even like this… you're mine… You're mine…"
Their bodies joined, the air thick with heat and muffled cries.
He moved without faltering, his face unreadable, his crimson eyes unblinking even as she writhed beneath him. Every touch, every thrust was precise—cold, controlled.
Yet Himeka's heart soared higher with each moment.
Because he was with her.
Because he had not rejected her.
Because she was the only one who could make this emotionless man touch, kiss, and share his body.
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she gasped his name again and again, clinging as though she could pour her soul into him.
When it was over, she collapsed against his chest, her body trembling, her heart overflowing.
He lay beside her, silent, staring at the ceiling. His breaths were steady, unbroken.
She turned into him, pressing her face against his cool skin, whispering through tears: "…Even if you never say you love me… I'll never stop. I'll never let go."
He didn't respond.
But he didn't leave.
And for Himeka, that was enough.
---
Some days later…
While preparing ceremonial documents with Lira, Himeka froze.
Her eyes caught on a line in the Emperor's record—his date of birth.
"…Wait." Her lips parted, her hands trembling. "He's… younger than me?"
Her heart thudded wildly, her cheeks burning crimson.
Memories of his touch, his body, their night together came flooding back—and with them, the shocking truth.
"…Two years… He's two years younger than me."
She covered her face, overwhelmed by the absurd, delicious embarrassment. "I… I seduced someone younger than me…"
And yet, she smiled through her tears, her heart aching with love.
Younger or older, cold or distant…
He was hers.
---
End of Chapter 18