Chapter One: A Tale of an Emperor

Once upon a time, there was an emperor. His hair was a beautiful blond, as if it were threads spun from moonlight, and his eyes held the noblest of violet flowers. That emperor had a beautiful empress by his side.

The empress had such a fair, clear complexion that the faint blue lines of her veins could be seen even in the dark. Her silver hair looked as soft as silk, and her eyes were as blue as the ocean under a bright summer sky.

The two, both so beautiful, were a perfect couple.

That’s right—they were perfect. The empress was a perfect empress, and the emperor perfectly hated the empress…

Hate? No. It has been said that the opposite of love is not hate, but ignorance. The emperor was completely indifferent to the empress. Even when the empress was on the verge of death, having consumed poison meant for him, the emperor barely reacted. He only looked at her with nonchalance, even as she neared her final moments.

“Was I a great empress?”

But she died before anyone answered.

The perfect empress, kind and gentle to everyone, had been like a mother to all and the first lady of the empire. The empire’s subjects, truly mourning her, donned themselves in black and gathered in the streets to see her off for the last time.

Finally, even the emperor, who had been indifferent to the empress all this time, seemed to have no choice but to show care in this moment—when she was already gone.

Before the grieving citizens, the emperor appeared with black ash smeared under his eyes. Through tears, he gave a speech about how devastated and grief-stricken he was to lose his beloved spouse.

Following his steps, the other high-ranked nobles managed to fool the subjects with their splendid acting. But, behind his back, these people also scorned the emperor. In the shadows, they spoke ill of him, knowing firsthand how the emperor used to treat the empress.

When the emperor returned from the funeral, his words differed from those he had spoken before his subjects. Now, the words were more heartless than those he had uttered when his dog had died.

He simply said, “What a pity.”

All the servants and nobles shuddered at this utterance that made their skin crawl. Was that it? That was all he had to say about someone who had stood by his side perfectly throughout her life?

“How could you say that as a human being?!” exclaimed the empire’s chancellor, who was also the emperor's close companion, in fury on behalf of everyone present. “A pity, you say… a pity! She was your wife before she was an empress. Your one and only other half!”

“Other half?” The emperor tilted his head dubiously, as if hearing that word for the very first time.

What, then, was the empress to the emperor?

And so, as many other stories begin, with true loss. So often, we do not understand what we have… until it is gone. At last, the emperor began noticing the empress’ absence. Despite being so heartless and indifferent to her before.

Let’s take a look at an example, shall we?

The empress’ parent, who had requested a private audience with the emperor even before the empress passed away…

“Her Majesty’s younger sister just happens to be of marriageable age right now…”

…said that while rubbing his hands together like a fly.

There were countless nobles who wanted their own daughters to fill the empty position of the first lady.

Whether it be the empress, the queen, or at the corner of the harem—it disgusted the emperor to see those greedy people wanting to set their daughters by his side in one way or another to gain power. For the first time ever, he was feeling the effect of the empress’ absence. At the very least, they had been such a perfect couple. They had suited each other so much that no one ever dared to get in between them.

Some time after the empress’ death, the emperor began to feel his head throb whenever he entered his study. Was he poisoned? Cursed? Or was it due to the empress’ resentment?

Rumors quickly spread and theories soon after. Why did the emperor get a headache the moment he stepped into the study? The emperor had to find the cause before the rumors broke through the palace’s strict security and spread throughout the empire. He called the empire’s most outstanding mage, priest, and sages to find the cause, but to no avail. Each of them produced different explanations.

“It must be a curse filled with resentment from Her Late Majesty, who had to breathe her last in an unfair manner,” the priest said while pouring holy water on the emperor.

From this solution, the emperor only caught a cold. His headache remained.

“Could the cause be the smell of a very old book?” The sage, who had his eyes on the imperial family’s ancient documents, said with sparkling eyes.

The emperor opted to build a new study and moved there instead of giving the old books to the sage, but his headache persisted—even after he got better from the cold.

Finally, a witch from the Clock Tower had a try. She examined the study for a long time and at last paused to brush her fingers across a flower.

“New flowers, huh?” she noted. “This kind of flower is lovely, but it smells too strong and doesn’t suit the study.”

“Who’s the one who usually takes care of the flower?” asked the emperor.

“Have you perhaps forgotten that Her Late Majesty used to be the one personally taking care of the flowers?”

The emperor frowned as he scoured through his memory. It felt like he had said in passing that the flower smelled good and ordered for the empress to be in charge of it, but he couldn’t be sure.

One day, when the emperor was already fed up with the disgust of people and the intense scent of flowers, a servant presented him an old diary.

“We discovered this while organizing Her Late Majesty’s keepsakes.”

The emperor looked through the diary with a solemn expression. In it, a piece of the empress’ life was imprinted in graceful handwriting.

[ I met His Highness the Crown Prince for the first time today. His Highness abhorred my hair and said it was like a spiderweb. Mother discussed with father about how they should hire a magician to dye my hair. ]

The day of the emperor and empress’ first meeting. The emperor, frowning, adjusted his sitting position and kept reading. But that was it.

On the next page, the emperor read about the empress on the day before she was to be the Crown Princess.

[ I will finally be the Crown Princess tomorrow. I can finally say my farewell to the wearisome ducal family. I wonder how His Highness has grown up to be? I must be a Crown Princess that wouldn’t let him down… ]

Wearisome ducal family. The emperor sympathized with this without realizing. The duke in question had been pressing the emperor from yesterday to today to take the empress’ younger sister as his new empress as soon as possible.

[ His Highness is a very quiet person. I have perfectly completed my first official duty. Will mother be happy? Will His Highness be proud of me this way? ]

What was her first official duty again? The emperor tried to trace through his memory. However, possibly due to the Crown Prince and Crown Princess’ first official duty being less memorable than expected, he found himself unable to recall any details about it, no matter how hard he tried.

It was so trivial to the emperor that he couldn’t even remember it. But it seemed to be an irreplaceably fortunate and happy moment for the empress—who was a Crown Princess at the time.

The emperor continued to flip through the pages.

[ I can’t believe it. To think Her Majesty the Empress would pass away like that. I’ve lost the only person who would be on my side in this imperial family. What should I do from now on? ]

[ Following Her Majesty, His Majesty the Emperor has also passed away. I became the empress without any time to grieve. I have to be the perfect empress from now on. ]

The emperor continued to flip through the diary with trembling hands. And for some reason, the words “perfect empress” weighed heavily on his mind.

[ People have lauded me, telling me I’m a perfect empress. I’m only doing my job, but it makes me feel proud of myself. Now if I can provide an heir for the imperial family, I will do my best to be the perfect empress. ]

She was doing her job? After giving birth to an heir and becoming the perfect empress, then what?

[ I tried to change the flowers in the vase. I picked a flower with a subdued scent so it could help His Majesty focus better. ]

Why? Why did she do things she wasn’t told to do? She could’ve ordered the maids to do that.

[ His Majesty said that the flower smelled nice. He also gave me permission to manage the flowers if I want. It made me happy because I feel like I’m getting closer to being the perfect empress. ]

Just what does that perfect empress even mean that she was so obsessed with the idea?

[ His Majesty personally escorted me down the carriage. His hand was so big and firm. My heart is beating so fast I can’t sleep. Should I summon a court physician? ]

No, something is wrong. This is wrong.

[ I heard a proposal was made for His Majesty to take a second wife. I’m fine. The imperial family needs an heir. A perfect empress would embrace even the child of a concubine. I’m fine. I’m really, really fine. No, I am not. I don’t want to be the perfect empress anymore… I just want to be happy. ]

The emperor looked at the final page, trembling. The empress that remained in the diary was nothing more than a ghost. Even before she had died. Here was the part of herself she had left behind to become the perfect empress.

[ I met the witch of the Clock Tower. She cast magic on me so I can become happy. Will this magic really work? ]

Before he knew it, the emperor’s tears started rolling. Only then did he realize how foolish he had been.

The empress was quite literally a perfect empress… in the sense that she was like a sophisticated doll, an oiled machine—not a human being with emotions and needs. She had made herself perfect, forced herself by endlessly restricting, controlling, and brainwashing herself.

Yet… nowhere did she remain as just herself, instead of as the empress. How she looked when she smiled, how she sounded when she cried, what she liked, and what she didn’t like. The emperor knew nothing about her.

Exhausted, the emperor stayed silent, covering his face for a long time.

Just what had he done to the empress?

Many other events have also happened in the time since the empress’ death, but that will be a story for another time. Right now, why don’t we put our focus on the emperor? He is secretly heading to the Clock Tower by himself in the middle of the night, without a single knight by his side.

“Can you turn back time?”

The witch of the Clock Tower cackled. She was wondering why the emperor would personally come to the Clock Tower so late at night. To turn back time? With a snort, the witch gave the emperor advice. “Regrets are called regrets because they can’t be undone, Your Majesty.”

However, the emperor once again pleaded with the witch. “Shouldn’t it be possible with your power? I beg you, give me a chance just once. Not for me, but for the empress’ sake.”

The witch looked down and scoffed at the emperor, who stooped so low as to beg here before her.

Do your best when you have the chance… so that you don’t regret it. If only the emperor realized why this saying existed at least a little earlier, such a tragedy wouldn’t have happened.

Hearing the emperor say “for the empress’ sake” made the witch of the Clock Tower stop laughing. She gritted her teeth, pausing to digest these words and consider his request. And agonize over it.

“Will you be fine with the whole future changing because of even the smallest action?”

“Even if the world falls apart, as long as she’s happy,” the emperor said.

“You’re fine with her not loving you in the altered future?” the witch probed.

“If that would make her truly happy.”

She frowned, trying to discern his sincerity. “Do you really want her to be happy?”

“You can even ask for my heart in exchange for it. If you want to take the rest of my life, I don’t mind. Please give me one more chance to make her happy.”

At that moment, the witch of the Clock Tower smiled, satisfied. “All right,” she said. “I’ve received the payment. Lizzie will become happy.”

Before the emperor fell asleep under the witch’s spell, he searched for God for the first time in forever within his head.

God, please, just one more time. Not for me who was ignorant, but for her. Please, just once, allow me a chance to turn back everything.

And so, the hand of the Clock Tower started spinning backwards.