It Turned Out She Wasn't a Favored Concubine - Episode 3

Before turning twenty, Erich ascended to the throne due to the sudden death of the former emperor.

Despite the chaos of ongoing wars with neighboring countries, he governed the empire with remarkable skill, defying expectations for someone so young.

He made bold appointments that contributed to military victories, favored capable officials, and ruled benevolently for the people. He strictly prohibited extravagance, using the saved funds to support the troops with provisions during wartime.

Yet, Erich was unusually lenient with Arne. Even when she beat a maid right in front of him, he did nothing. When she flaunted a necklace that cost an entire month’s budget for her palace, he merely praised its beauty.

He even encouraged her.

Arne’s infamy grew day by day, but the emperor took no action against it. It was as if he wanted her reputation to spread.

Would any rational person stand by while the woman he loves is publicly scorned?

He should have either gently corrected her or silenced those who spoke ill of her. But he simply watched.

And the most astonishing fact: the emperor and Arne had not yet shared a bed.

While that was fortunate for me, the reason was absurdly simple.

It was a divine prophecy.

The emperor’s third consort was not to sleep with him until a separate oracle was received, or else she would conceive a child.

When I read that in the diary, my expression was pure disbelief.

Not only was the prophecy hard to believe, but the situation made no sense.

Currently, the temple held little authority in the empire. Centuries ago, during the Holy Empire era, the temple’s word was law. But now, it barely operated with imperial support, and receiving a prophecy was merely a formality.

No priest would be foolish enough to claim a child could or couldn’t be born based on such a formality.

In other words, this prophecy reflected the emperor’s intention not to have a child with Arne. Whether Arne accepted this willingly was unclear, as the diary didn’t elaborate.

Moreover, if the emperor truly adored Arne, why hadn’t he crowned her empress?

Something smelled of political maneuvering.

So I investigated.

Though I could do nothing during my fever, once I recovered, I gathered information relentlessly to survive. I listened to gossip from maids at my bedside while pretending to sleep and read every history book I could get my hands on.

The first thing I realized was that Erich, despite his gentle prince-like image, was no pushover.

He hadn’t easily claimed the throne.

Though born to the emperor and empress, he wasn’t the eldest son. His mother died early, and new consorts entered the palace.

The emperor had sons with both the new empress and a concubine, and before the four princes could compete for the crown, he hastily named the eldest son of the late empress as heir.

But Erich’s older brother died in a riding accident during his coming-of-age ceremony. With the official heir gone, nobles split into three factions, each backing one of the remaining princes.

Erich, without a mother’s support, had the weakest faction. Yet he emerged victorious. One prince was poisoned, and another was executed for the crime.

On the surface, Erich seemed to have won by chance, but I thought differently.

How could all three rivals conveniently die? If Erich orchestrated their deaths, he was no ordinary man. Could such a person truly love a vain, cruel woman just for her looks?

Impossible.

So why did he pretend to favor a consort he didn’t love?

The answer came from the maids’ gossip. They often criticized Arne, using the phrase “thanks to her brother…”

Arne was beautiful, but so were many in the palace. What set her apart was her brother—a war hero who had conquered the troublesome Kingdom of Zaren and was still active on the northern front.

The empire, vast as it was, constantly faced border conflicts and desperately needed victorious generals.

To keep such a hero loyal, generous rewards were necessary.

But excessive rewards could breed rebellion.

The best reward to prevent rebellion? Marrying a woman from the hero’s family into the imperial line, giving them hope of producing the next emperor.

Arne entered the palace right after her brother’s victory over Zaren. Her wedding was lavish, unlike the fourth consort a princess from Zaren who arrived a month later as a hostage and didn’t even receive a proper ceremony.

It didn’t stop there. The diary showed a pattern: whenever Arne’s brother won a battle, she received grand gifts, and her mistakes were overlooked.

That was fine. With a war hero backing me, I could live comfortably.

But the problem was being discarded afterward. The bizarre prophecy about not conceiving a child added weight to this theory. If the emperor truly cherished Arne and her family, such a prophecy wouldn’t exist. It seemed he was using the prophecy to prevent pregnancy, pretending to favor her until her brother was no longer useful.

Based on historical parallels I’d read, this was entirely plausible. After realizing this, I began observing Erich closely especially how he treated Arne.

And I saw it clearly: his behavior wasn’t that of a man in love.

He encouraged her infamy, sometimes even orchestrating it.

Take the recent tea-time discussion about the banquet ban. Ostensibly, it was to comfort a sick consort, but anyone with a brain could see the truth. A banquet ban was usually reserved for mourning important figures, yet it was enacted just because one consort was ill.

Banquets were vital for noble socializing. Banning all banquets in the capital disrupted major life events weddings, birthdays, coming-of-age ceremonies.

Would those nobles feel sympathy for me?

Of course not.

Their resentment spread like wildfire, solidifying my bad reputation.

That was the emperor’s goal.

The worse my reputation, the easier it would be to discard me and my brother later.

I didn’t know when the empire’s borders would stabilize. Perhaps not until the northern front and the western petty kingdoms who had recently begun probing the borders under the guise of tribute were dealt with.

Of course, this wasn’t in the diary.

The diary only held past information. What I discovered came from my own observations.

Yes, it was my observation, my thoughts, my actions, and my future. I had suddenly arrived in this world, and I might never return. I was now in Arne’s body, and in this world, I was Arne.

Bright sunlight streamed through the clear window.

I blinked away sleep and sat up. Pulling the bell cord by my bedside, my attendant maid, Rui, entered with a tray.

“Did you sleep well?”

Rui greeted me cheerfully and drew the curtains. She moved quickly but gently. Rui had been a maid in the Edelheit household, brought to the palace three months ago by Ortrang.

Ortrang had complained about the lack of suitable maids in the palace before my fever and requested the maid who had served him at Edelheit.

That maid was Rui.

Of course, I had no memory of giving such an order, but since it came from the former Arne, I had to accept it.

I worried she might suspect something, knowing Arne’s childhood well. But she never questioned my behavior. Moreover, she was very different from others in the palace.

The servants who cared for me during my illness were polite on the surface but gossiped behind my back once I fell asleep.

Their eyes betrayed their contempt for Arne. But Rui’s gaze held none of that.

Whether it was loyalty from serving Arne since childhood or something else, her eyes were filled with warm anticipation like someone meeting a long-awaited friend.

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