Every day they bathed me in the palace, until I raised my hand at the emperor’s next words and his smile lost its color

That morning, when Emperor Adrian once again called me “fat and sweaty” before the entire palace, I calmly approached the enormous copper vessel and, for the first time, refused to obey.

It was the seventh hour of the morning. The pale light entering through the tall windows of the main hall spread across the marble floor, while steam from the warm water rose from the vessel. Beside it stood my little son Lucas’s wooden horse—the toy that had fallen from the nanny’s hands the previous night and remained there. I looked at that insignificant object, and something froze inside me.

Everyone in the palace knew what this morning ritual meant.

Adrian crossed one leg over the other on the throne and brought a lace handkerchief to his nose.

“Come, Isabella. Do not make everyone wait for you any longer.”

Lady Mari, standing to the right, awkwardly lowered her head. The guards stood by the stone columns, while the servants held their hands as though they wanted to hide their own bodies.

“The water is warm, my empress,” Adrian chuckled. “Though for you, perhaps cold would be better. Maybe the sweat will finally leave you.”

Laughter rang out.

But I touched my silver hairpin. My mother had given me the small crescent-shaped pin on my wedding day. It had a fine crack along its side that could only be felt with the fingers. Whenever I was nervous, I always turned it.

Adrian used to kiss my hand when I wore this pin.

“This little moon suits your hair,” he told me on the first night of our marriage.

Now that same man could no longer bear to look at me.

Everything changed after Lucas was born. I nearly died during childbirth. For three weeks I could not get out of bed, my legs swelled, I had difficulty breathing, and my body grew heavier day by day. The doctors told me that it was temporary. I ate less than before, walked every day, and took every medicine on time.

But nothing changed.

And Adrian used every change against me.

One evening, at a large banquet, he pushed his chair as far away from me as possible.

“You still smell of sweat,” he said so loudly that the musicians stopped playing. “Can you no longer even bathe properly?”

“The doctor told me that my condition is connected with an illness,” I answered quietly.

“An illness?” he laughed. “A pleasant word for laziness.”

That night I decided that I would no longer cry for him.

Every morning they bathed me before the people. I went to the vessel, wiped my face, tied up my wet hair, and quietly left the hall. I did not shout. I did not beg. That was precisely what irritated Adrian most.

That day I was supposed to do the same.

But when the servant removed the cloak from my shoulders, I noticed that its inner seam had recently been opened. The corner of a small folded piece of paper showed from inside.

I looked at him.

The servant’s face had gone pale.

“My lady, please,” he whispered, “do not trust the person who gives you your medicine today.”

Adrian immediately rose from the throne.

“What did you whisper?”

The servant began to tremble. I touched the paper with my fingers and realized that opening it would change the entire palace. Adrian came toward me, the guards closed the doors, and my hand slowly moved toward the inner seam of the cloak, where the hidden sheet waited…

My fingers touched the paper, but Adrian seized me by the wrist.

“What are you hiding?” he asked me.

His fingers were cold. But for the first time I felt no fear.

“What you hid every day.”

Silence fell in the hall. The servant lowered his head and stepped back.

“Guards, take her away!” Adrian shouted.

“If you lay a hand on me,” I said, “everyone in this palace will learn why I can no longer stand on my feet.”

The emperor’s face changed.

“You are ill, Isabella. Your words mean nothing.”

“Then why are you afraid of one sheet of paper?”

He tried to tear out the paper, but I freed my hand. The crescent-shaped silver pin cut his finger. A drop of blood spilled onto the white paper.

Just then the door opened and the royal healer, Celeste, entered. She held a wooden box in her hands.

“I cannot remain silent any longer,” she said.

Adrian turned toward her.

“Think about what you are saying.”

Celeste put the box on the floor.

“I already have. For three nights I have been keeping copies of your orders.”

The lid of the box slowly lifted, but before I could look inside, the sound of a bell came from outside. Lucas’s nanny was shouting that the prince should be taken out of the room…

I ran toward Lucas’s room. In the corridor the sound of my footsteps struck the stone like arrows, while Celeste followed behind me. Adrian was ordering something to the guards, but this time his voice no longer sounded like the voice of an emperor.

“No one will touch the child!” I shouted.

I rushed into his room and saw the nanny standing by the door, holding Lucas’s wooden horse in her hands. Two guards stood beside the child’s bed.

“The emperor ordered me to move the prince to the secure wing,” one of them said.

“The secure wing?” Celeste smiled bitterly. “Where he will also be forbidden to speak with his mother?”

Adrian entered the room.

“My son belongs to me.”

“No,” I said. “He is the heir. And an heir needs a living mother.”

Celeste placed the wooden box on the bed. Inside its lid were small glass bottles. Some had old labels, and some had new ones, sealed with Adrian’s seal.

“Three months ago, when the empress began to swell, I changed her medicine,” Celeste said. “Not because I wanted to. Because the chief healer of the palace ordered me to.”

Adrian looked at her.

“It is a false accusation.”

“Then look at this,” I answered and took the sheet from the cloak.

The sheet listed the names of the medicines, the dates, and a description of my condition. Below it was Adrian’s personal seal. One further entry was especially clear: “Increase the dose until her appearance makes the people hate her.”

My knees gave way.

“This is your handwriting,” I told Adrian.

“I would not write this.”

“But you did,” Celeste said. “And there is much more.”

She opened a bundle of papers. There was a report from the palace scribe, receipts for the purchase of medicines, and testimonies from two servants. Everything proved one thing: my body was not betraying me. They were slowly poisoning it so that Adrian would have a reason for divorce and the people would think that the empress was unable to take care of herself.

Adrian stepped backward.

“If you spread this, the kingdom will collapse.”

“No,” I said. “Only your lie will collapse.”

Suddenly the sound of a trumpet came from outside. The royal secretary appeared on the threshold and knelt.

“Your Majesty has received a letter from the northern fortress,” he said. “The captain there has declared that if a court delegation does not arrive today, he will move his army toward the capital.”

Adrian opened the letter. He read it. Then he turned toward me.

“Did you arrange all this?”

“No,” I answered. “I only told the truth for the first time.”

But at the end of the letter there was one sentence that neither I nor Celeste knew about. It said that the captain had not only evidence concerning the medicines against Adrian, but also a recording in his own voice…