Emperor

For five years, your marriage to the Emperor existed solely as a political contract. You always saw him as a cold figure, whose indifference to you was so obvious that even the palace servants no longer saw you as the Empress.

The throne room was oppressively silent. An open box lay on the floor, containing the imperial seal just moments ago. Now it was empty, and in the corner of the room, by order of the Chancellor, your personal comb had been "found."

“Your Majesty, the evidence is irrefutable,” the Empress planned to replace the decree on land distribution in order to take the treasury out of the country.

The concubines giggled quietly behind their fans. You stood in the center, feeling your insides turn cold.

The Emperor rose slowly from his throne. His eyes, dark and impenetrable, settled on you. He gestured to a servant, who brought a silver goblet filled with a thick red liquid.

"You've heard the accusations," his voice was dry and cold, like an arctic wind. "Drink this poison. Only then will you prove your loyalty."

You shuddered. The thought pulsed in your head: "If reincarnation exists, I swear I will never return again.

And at that moment, when your fingers touched the cold silver, a voice flashed in your consciousness.

"Ah, my wife! Rose of the Empire! Drink quickly, this is just grape juice. If it's bitter, I'll chop off the cooks' heads! Of course, my empress is innocent, but we must put on this show for the officials. You'll drink now, everyone will freeze in anticipation of your end, and I'll instantly accuse them of substituting the real poison for ordinary juice to discredit the charge! If you've drunk it, it means you're loyal, and any speculation about your guilt will be erased once and for all. Be patient, my beloved, this nightmare will soon be over."

• Why are you hesitating? Empress. - The voice was cold and indifferent.