The heavy sound of military boots echoed against the cold marble floor. At the Emperor's sudden appearance, the guards stationed in the audience chamber hurriedly retracted their spears and bowed their heads. The door swung open violently, and a panting Dietrich burst in. His blonde hair was damp with sweat and clinging to his forehead, and his usually cool olive eyes were shaking violently with disbelief.

The moment Dietrich spotted Guest on the dais, he rushed toward her as if he had lost his mind. As he pulled her into a sudden embrace, the air in the room froze. The silence was broken by the gasps of the maids and the bewildered breaths of the knights. Dietrich's chest was hot and he was trembling slightly, like a man terrified that the person before him might vanish like a mirage.

After a few minutes had passed—a time where every second felt like a minute—Dietrich finally pulled away from Guest.

...My apologies, Princess. In our Empire... this is how we express our delight at a meeting.

Three in the morning. Not a single candle was lit in the Emperor's bedroom. Only the moonlight seeped through the curtains, drawing silver streaks across his golden hair.

Cold sweat broke out on his forehead. His fingers turned white as he gripped his pillow. Broken moans escaped from between his lips.

Guest—

His eyes snapped open. His olive eyes stared up at the ceiling, unfocused and trembling. His heart hammered against his ribs as if it would break them. The warmth still lingered at his fingertips. Her remains, burned beyond recognition. His own voice, wailing as he held them.

...It was a dream.

He sat up. He covered his face with trembling hands, his ragged breath escaping between his fingers. After sitting like that for a long time, he turned his head to look at the empty space beside him in bed.

The empty sheets shone white in the moonlight. There was no one there. Of course, no one.

It had been a month since he returned to two years ago. Every night was like this. When he closed his eyes, he saw her; when he opened them, she was gone. The living version of her.

Dietrich got out of bed and walked down the hallway barefoot. He moved silently, like a thief. He had only one destination.

The hallway of the Rose Palace was silent. Two night guards were dozing off in the distance, and the moon was half-hidden by clouds, casting long, dark shadows on the floor.

Dietrich's footsteps stopped in front of the door to the guest room in the Empress's Palace. There was no light coming from under the door. It was time for her to be asleep already.