“If you begin by sacrificing yourself to those you love, you will end by hating those to whom you have sacrificed yourself.”
—George Bernard Shaw
Half a year later the situation in the Empire deteriorated completely. No one could recognize the Emperor. He became possessed, often screaming at the servants, beating his beloved dog and leaving the castle. The rumors going around the court were that the etiquette tutoress was not single. She had three children and a husband, whom the Emperor had raised in rank. He also relocated the family to a luxurious place and was waiting for the tutoress to leave her husband and elope with the Emperor to a separate castle, which was under construction. As fate would have it, the etiquette tutoress was succumbing to an incurable disease and the Emperor was in a rush. He wanted to spend the remainder of his mistress’ life with her.
One day the Empress found an open letter in her husband’s cabinet. The handwriting was even and neat, exuding the delicate aroma of perfume… The Empress couldn’t restrain herself. Her eyes frantically ran over the lines as her legs shook and buckled. She fell back into an armchair, unable to tear her eyes away from the letter.
“My Lord, your eagerness to sacrifice everything for the sake of love is astounding! But you should not even think about abandoning your Empire and your faithful spouse, who had absolutely no hand in wreaking the tempests breaking your heart. I have heard that the Empress is a wonderful woman. It would be unjust and even cruel to humiliate her publicly, to turn her into a laughingstock and separate her from her children. I insist that you uphold justice. I am willing to love your sons, but I am also a mother and I know how terrible it is to deprive a woman of the indescribable happiness of being with her children. Promise me that you will not do this! Otherwise we will never see each other again. I won’t be able to forgive you.”
“You swore that you would never again consummate your marriage with your wife. Do allow me to believe that. Keep your promise or never touch me again. This will be your punishment. And I am faithful to you, my Emperor. Even if I find out that you are lying to me, I will not let my husband come near me. For me, that would be the same as spilling the blood of murdered love onto the bed. I entreat you, my Lord, be kind to those who love you and who place their hopes in you. Yours, Lara Ju.”
Lara… The Empress’ lips began to quiver… Her name is Lara Ju…
A woman’s soul can feel the sorrows of others as her own. The Empress felt the weight of the stone that her husband bore in his chest, how it stifled his heart and constricted his breathing. She was on the verge of consent to a bigamous marriage. Her heart was filled with unjustified, absurd goodwill. The wretched woman was dreaming of saving Lara’s life, yet she understood how powerless people are in the face of death: if Lara is meant to go, then she will go…
The very thought of this made everything go black in the Empress’ eyes. No, her husband wouldn’t survive that kind of loss! Everything would collapse—his world, her world, and the entire Empire! Her fear of this pushed the poor woman to take on a part of the stone and bear it inside her heart. She no longer interfered with the Emperor’s trips away from the castle. She sent presents to Lara’s children under a false name and even toned down her stunning appearance to avoid annoying her husband with excessive allure. Around him, she wore modest, low-key dresses. In a word, she became a shadow next to her husband’s shadow.
Her good deeds, of which no one knew, helped the Empress bear her woe. She prayed for Lara to get well, for the Emperor to calm down and to shift his gaze to the home and the woman who loved him more than life itself.
This went on for half a year. The Emperor still went away, acting more and more despicably upon his return. Beating the dog was now a trivial form of entertainment for him. The tyrant’s vehemence gained momentum and he began abusing his servants and even his wife. But worse than being slapped in the face, the Empress was dismayed by her husband’s fake flirtation with the dames at court. He did this to evoke artificial envy in his wife, something he hadn’t dared to do before. Such acts of indecency humiliated the Empress in front of the whole court and thus, she began avoiding people, and later—the sun, because her wrinkles and bruises were more noticeable in the sunlight.
The Emperor stopped spending time with his sons. His hand no longer lingered on their curly-haired little heads. The boys couldn’t even remember the last time their father took them riding, had a heart-to-heart talk with them or, holding them in his arms, told them fairy tales about knights.
The Emperor instilled fear not only in his family members, but in the entire court, especially when he instituted the death penalty as punishment for grave offences. People knew that the Emperor’s sense of justice had gone awry a long time ago so he was prone to call any minor offence grave.
Nevertheless, sooner or later, even the most assiduous patience runs dry. The Empress could not bear the suffering. One night, she kissed her sleeping sons, whispered something to the nurse-maid, made her way into the stable, handed a golden coin to the horsekeeper and saddled her faithful Perry…