The Emperor Exchanged Me for a Mistress, But I Found Another

chatper 11

The moon hung low over the frost-bitten spires of the Northern Palace, casting long, skeletal shadows across the Empress’s wing. Inside, the air was thick with a heat that had nothing to do with the dying embers in the hearth. Yuna, Diana’s most loyal and only maid, stood frozen in the shadow of the heavy velvet portiere. She had come to bring her mistress a warm tonic to soothe her nerves after the harrowing banquet, but the silver tray in her hands nearly clattered to the floor. Through the narrow gap in the curtains, she witnessed a sight that felt like a beautiful, f*******n dream: the golden-haired Emperor Alistair had Diana pressed against his chest, his hands cradling her face as if she were a fragile treasure.

Yuna watched, her breath hitching in her throat, as Alistair claimed Diana’s lips in a kiss that was raw, desperate, and filled with a devotion that Emperor Caspian had never shown in a decade of marriage. Diana, usually so rigid and composed, seemed to melt into him, her fingers tangling tentatively in his blonde hair. Yuna let out a tiny, involuntary gasp, her heart soaring. She had seen Diana weep in silence for years; she had seen the bruises on her mistress’s pride every time Caspian brought that pink-haired dancer another gift. To see Diana finally being held with such hunger and respect made Yuna want to cry with relief. A wide, giddy smile broke across her face, and she stifled a joyful giggle behind her hand. Finally, she thought fiercely, someone has come to wake her up from this nightmare.

But the moment of bliss was brutally interrupted. From the long, echoing stone corridor outside, the rhythmic clack-clack of heavy imperial boots reached Yuna’s ears. The sound was sharp, military, and unmistakably familiar—it was the stride of the palace guards, or perhaps the Emperor himself, moving with a cold, aggressive purpose.

The color drained from Yuna’s face. If Alistair was discovered in the Empress’s bedchamber at this hour, it wouldn't just be a scandal; it would be a death sentence for everyone in the room. Panic surged through her, replacing her joy with cold terror. She didn't have time to knock or wait for permission. She set the tray down on a side table with a muffled thud and burst through the curtains, her footsteps frantic on the plush carpet.

"My Lady! Sir!" Yuna hissed, her voice a frantic, low whisper as she stumbled into the inner sanctum.

The two sprang apart instantly. Diana’s amethyst eyes were wide, her lips flushed and swollen from the kiss, looking more alive and startled than Yuna had ever seen her. Alistair stood his ground, his hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of his sword, his blue eyes flashing with a protective, dangerous light as he stepped in front of Diana to shield her.

"Yuna?" Diana breathed, her hand flying to her throat to steady her racing heart.

"Forgive me, but someone is coming!" Yuna whispered urgently, gesturing wildly toward the outer doors. "The guards are patrolling the hall, and I heard heavy footsteps approaching the main entrance. You must hide, Emperor Alistair! If you are seen here, the Emperor will use it to destroy my Lady forever! Please, you have to leave now!"

Diana turned to Alistair, her face a mask of sudden terror. The brief moment of warmth was being chased away by the cold reality of her life in the North. "Alistair, please," she pleaded, her voice trembling as she gripped his sleeve. "You have to go. If Caspian finds you here, he will never let me leave this palace alive."

Alistair looked at the door, then back at Diana, a dark scowl marring his handsome features. He hated the idea of scurrying away like a thief, but he saw the genuine fear in Diana’s eyes. He reached out, grabbing her hand one last time and pressing a firm, burning kiss to her palm. "I am going," he promised, his voice low and resolute. "But I am not leaving you behind. This is just the beginning, Diana. Remember my words."

With the grace of a stalking predator, Alistair slipped toward the balcony, disappearing into the shadows of the ivy just as the heavy latch on the outer door began to turn with a loud, metallic thunk. Yuna rushed to her mistress’s side, frantically smoothing Diana’s hair and adjusting her modest robe. "Sit, My Lady! Look at your jewelry box! Pretend you have been here alone all night!" Yuna whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird as the door creaked open.