In the morning, there were no signs of the Emperor. Even the night had washed away the smell of his perfume in the sheets, the only remainder of his presence was the soreness between her legs. Thwarted, Gigi summoned her handmaidens to prepare her for breakfast in a new set of wardrobes readied for her by the imperial household.
Later, she learned that her husband had gone to his son after their wedding night and that they had been sleeping in the same bed ever since he was an infant. Quite peculiar, since royal children would properly be raised in the nursery, and at seven years old, the kid should've had his own bedroom.
The Emperor and the Prince also shared the same name; Cal. Only their middle names were different, Cal Raedan Leroy for the Emperor, and Cal Velius Leroy for the young Prince. Prajan kings rarely bore the same given names, but monarchies in the western world were big on hereditary names. Cal was a shortened version of Callisto, the name of the previous Emperor.
As she got down to the dining room, she saw the Emperor and his son already starting their breakfast. Awkwardly, she took a seat across from him, hoping that she wasn't too late. Although she was well-versed in Angletonian manners, it was her first time to put them into practice. Strangely, neither of them bothered to scold nor call her out on it. She wasn't sure whether she should be comforted or offended by it, as they were acting like she wasn't there.
"Good morning, Your Majesty," she greeted.
The Emperor stopped eating, for a short moment his eyes were fixated upon her person. Gigi fidgeted under the table, fearing that she was dressed inappropriately. "Morning," he replied flatly, shifting his focus back on his plate.
"I... trust you slept?" she clutched her napkins tightly as one of the footmen placed them upon her lap.
Her husband spared her a brief glance. "I did. I suppose you did, too. In fact, you needn't bother to come downstairs. As a married woman you have the privilege to enjoy your breakfast in bed."
It sounded like he didn't want her to be here with him. "...I'd rather have my breakfast with you, Sire."
There was no reply, and Gigi smoothened her napkins once more. Truthfully, she could barely get herself to sleep last night. But figuring he was least likely to care, she'd rather keep it to herself. She contemplated if there were other safe topics to discuss, but she wasn't good at small talk and certainly wasn't one to initiate conversations. Perhaps, it was better to just eat her food in silence.
Anglese food was one of the most commonly served foreign food during royal banquets, so Gigi was thankful she wouldn't have to struggle to get used to them.
"Why are you singling out the veggies, Junior? I thought you liked veggies," chirped the Emperor, in a completely different tone of voice than he had used with her.
"These cuts are too big, even the monsters of the deep would have trouble swallowing them." The Prince pursed his lips, making his cherubic face looked rounder than usual. There were chunks of carrots and tomatoes piling on the edge of his plate, where he kept prodding it with his fork.
"Let me cut them up for you," he chuckled, leaning towards his son. He swiftly sliced the vegetables into smaller pieces before presenting them back to his son. "There, better?"
"Much." The Prince batted his long-lashed eyes.
In silence, Gigi discerned another distinctive feature that set them apart from one another. The Prince's eyes were dark, like the deepest shade of a stormy sky, unlike his father's russet brown.
So soon after breakfast, the Emperor was already off to any business with the government that he was having that day, foiling any effort she attempted for a conversation, while the Prince attended his daily classes.
It left her alone in the main palace with no one but the rest of the staff members as companies, so she did what she did best; tacitly observe. If she had to survive in this family for the rest of her life, she should understand the position and circumstances she was in.
"Could you show me around the palace?" she asked the palace housekeeper, after receiving her first greeting. "I'd like to know the way and which places to go."
"Of course, Your Majesty," the middle-aged woman beamed. "It'd be a great pleasure."
Of all the paintings in the long gallery—a place where they would showcase the portraits of the previous monarchs—Gigi was most mesmerized by a painting of Emilian de Vasilione, the great founder of the Leroy house. It was she who united Angletonia as a single state, ending the conflict between her people and the northern settlers, which was an issue in her era. She graced the centre of the room, midnight hair cascading over alabaster skin and a pair of lively jade green eyes. Her bloodline would later give rise to Raedan II, the first Emperor of Angletonia and her husband's namesake.
She immersed herself in the numerous portraits of royal family members, till she settled on that of her husband's on his coronation day. Dressed in a cape and sceptre, with a heavy crown on his head, noble and debonair.
"The Emperor..." she asked the housekeeper, who tuned in to her words attentively, "Has he always been so cold and distant?"
The woman seemed a little taken aback. "Forgive my opinion, Your Majesty, but one could only hear great things about His Majesty. He possessed the pride of the late Emperor's, but with much kindness and grace as his mother's, Empress Estelle. Always been so considerate with the staff, ever since he was still a prince."
Gigi smiled sourly, regretted having asked the question. He was not partial to his son, he was also kind to the staff members for a long time, so maybe it was her. Perhaps, he found her uninteresting and a bore. She couldn't make the cut because she wasn't as entertaining or delightful as his other companions.
He wasn't the first.
As she had enough of that little tour, she asked the housekeeper to show her the library.
The palace library was a humongous hall she would be happy to get lost in. Unlike the Prajan library that was mostly used to store the ancient scrolls, Angletonia's was stack with plenty of modern literature, some of them were quite new. Implying that at least someone in the imperial family had been actively using the library.
Shortly, she heard that someone else had entered the library; the little Prince.
After gathering a pile of books around him, he sat down and preoccupied himself with reading, oblivious to her presence. Seeing how there were no other children around, it didn't look like he had any friends. Did he have any close relatives? Someone from his maternal line, perhaps?
She tried to acquire some information about his late mother but found so little, that she died shortly after he was born. Had the Emperor loved and mourned her so much that he was so protective of their son's right to inheritance? That he couldn't open his heart to her?
Their dinner went tediously, to her further dismay, with her husband disregarding her as he did during breakfast. He was so lively with his son, but with her, he was dull—aside from the briefest moment when they had sex last night. That made her wonder if he would come for her tonight, even if only for that purpose.
No, she thought to herself. She shouldn't dare to hope.
Still, she got herself dolled up and readied in her chambers. You weren't hoping, she told herself, you were getting prepared, just in case.
She fell asleep on the couch, and he never came.
***
After a few days, a message from her father arrived, specifically asking if their marriage had been consummated. Gigi clenched the letter tightly in hand. Not even an inquiry for her well-being.
She wrote back, citing explicitly that their marriage had in fact been consummated, so he could let go of his troubles, but nothing about her struggles in Angletonia. She was the Empress now, it's about time she got out from under his influence.
Meanwhile, Gigi would manage the overseas trading that revolved around her country, transporting goods from the east to the west. There were a lot of sectors to be looked into in the international trades, such as taxes and logistics. Though she had been thoroughly prepared in theory, really doing it was far different. A lot of countries were dying to get their hands on the Prajan local commodities, it was no wonder that her home country had earned so much from it, even Angletonia was benefitting now from the taxes alone.
The business kept her occupied and no longer bothered with her husband the Emperor. He barely saw her beside work or public engagements, so the only other times she'd see him was in the dining room, and he'd always retreat into his own chambers every night.
The elders back home would often pass their wisdom about the three principles of a successful marriage: honour, duty, and loyalty. But how were they supposed to 'honour' her 'duty' to each other if they were never together?
Once, she heard laughter and playful chatters from behind her office windows and looked out upon what appeared to be the Emperor teaching the Prince how to ride a horse. The sight pained her, and she quickly drew the curtains back, hiding them from view.
She tried to take comfort in the knowledge that this marriage could be a lot worse. Even though the Emperor might have neglected her, he had never harmed her or belittled her in any way. He had never even cheated on her, as far as she knew.
Fortunately, she quite enjoyed being alone. She had never been a people person back in Praja and preferred the quietness of the palace library. There were thousands of books in the worldly hall and she buried herself in it, reading through various topics; from the history of Angletonia to the various mythology from the Southern Isles.
She found it interesting that Prince Cal—or as he's usually nicknamed "Junior"—was also a frequent visitor of the library, the person who had been keeping the space alive. Despite his father's obvious treatment, he turned out to be quite intelligent and self-reliant when being away from him. She caught him glancing at her a few times only to shy away behind his book whenever he caught her looking back.
One day, Gigi saw him trying to carry a pile of encyclopedias all by himself and inevitably tripped. Before the books could come crashing down on him, Gigi rushed to get him out of the way.
They had never struck an actual conversation before, Gigi took the chance to introduce herself.
"Good afternoon, Cal," she greeted the heir to the throne with a cordial smile. "My name is Gigi."
.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.