No, she takes the training sword.

Whether it be whim or something else, she took the wooden training sword and, as a sign of respect to Alexandra’s privacy, draped the sheet back over the painting of the younger version of herself. She understood that people don’t hide a painting like this for no good reason. Besides, she had the odd desire to give the sword a swing the moment she picked it up.

Exiting the wardrobe she strolled to the centre of the room, the craving to give the wooden blade a swing festered to the point where she held it in a vice-like grip.

The wooden training sword was the size of her form arm clearly intended for a child learning the basics which was perfect for her since, in reality, she didn’t know the first thing about swords, The only risk she could get from it would be a splitter.

She looked at the sword and felt the urge tug at her with increasing intensity, instinctively rejecting her belief that this was harmless, as she read what Alexandra could do with a simple butter knife. She didn’t even want to know what she could have done with a chunk of wood shaped like a weapon, let alone a real steel sword.

Yet the craving persisted like an itch that just couldn’t be reached. Raising the weapon she held it with both hands in front of her until it felt almost uncomfortable. Her body reacted on its own to choose a more suitable stance.

Chalking it up to muscle memory, she kept stance and raised it above her head. She held it there for a moment but it felt like forever, both her muscles in her arms and legs tightened as if every part of her limbs screamed for her to attack. But not yet. First, she heard a tapping sound which became a rattle, she saw a tea set begun to shake and edge closer to the end of the table. Second, on the other side of the room, the couch began to drag itself towards her as if it was being pulled towards her. Third the chandelier above spun wildly the crystals which hung from it danced around the sword as she held it.

Then she noticed for the first time a black aura that enveloped the young women like a second shadow. What started as the antics of a poltergeist quickly became an earthquake. The whole room shook violently, mirrors crack, furniture cast around the room like a child’s plaything. This was Alexandra swordsmen aura, the art consisting of years of training and battle, the reason she was near undefeatable on the battlefield.

“Stop!” She screamed losing both her footing and stance she fell to the floor along with any furniture which was floating in the air.

“Alright. Let's not do that again.” Calming herself with differing degrees of success she looked at her room and sighed before awkwardly going to the door, opening it. “Hello? Could I get some help please?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Damnit Jorg where are you?” She mumbled as she worried about the return of her ****; she didn’t even realize how dark it had gotten. Unable to fight off the encroaching drowsiness, she fell into a deep sleep. Although she thought she heard people walking past her door, there comes a time even jumping at shadows becomes excusing.

“…..Your Highness?” She felt a touch on her shoulder.

The hand on her shoulder was thick, large, and warm. Subconsciously, she called out the only name that came to mind. “Jorg?”

When there was no reply she blinked slowly and opened her eyes.

But the face that greeted her was a stranger’s. He knelt next to the bed with the moonlight streaming in from behind him. Wordlessly, he increased the pressure on her shoulder.

Though it didn’t hurt, it was enough to chase the sleep away. She sat up.

“Who the hell are you?”

“….Have you already forgotten me?”

His breath reeked of ****. she instinctively put up her guard and slapped the man’s hand away from her shoulder.

“Get out, right now. Before I call someone in.”

“Do you really not recognize me?”

Unfortunately for him, she had none of the princess’ memories. There was no way that she’d recognize him even with her novel knowledge. It was hard to find someone like him that fit his description. ‘Who the hell is this guy again?’

He sounded like he was holding back tears. Feeling baffled, she let out a sigh. It hadn’t even been a day and this was already the second man coming to her with tears.

She had no idea why everyone decided to turn on the waterworks in front of her. She wasn’t used to dealing with situations like these. ‘I suppose this is karma for the times I got shit faced and spilled my baggage to my friends.’ Looking down at the drunk man. ‘Yeah I’ve been there buddy.’

“First of all, I can’t see your face.”

At her words, the man quickly drew back. His face was partially uncovered under the moonlight.

On the surface, he appeared fragile, but a closer inspection revealed sharp and intelligent features. He looked like a fairy.

Yet the man was staring at her expectantly. He seemed convinced that she would show a different response now she’d gotten a look at his face.

“So…. Why did you come here?” She pretended to recognize him.

She briefly considered calling the servants, but they were likely the ones who had allowed him into her room in the first place. She didn’t want to overreact to something that was a regular occurrence.

“I heard that tonight, you hadn’t called for anyone.”

“…….”

She recalled Alexandra switched out partners nightly and had slept with all sorts of men. But she wasn’t planning on continuing the tradition just to make her act more believable.

“So?”

“You purposely didn’t seek me out all this time.”

She stared dumbstruck at the reply with only one question on her mind. ‘Seriously who the hell is this guy?!’

“Saying that there were plenty of men who could act as a substitute…. But it seems you’ve gotten tired of even that. Seeing as how you’re sleeping alone now. Yet I knew that Your Highness would never seek me out first, so what else could I do? I had **** but to come myself.”

Saying so, he stealthily grabbed her hand which had been lying on top of the covers. The thought suddenly crossed her mind that he might be one of Alexandra concubines but which one?

She thought carefully aside from figuring out who this man was she needed to know if he actually was one of the princess’ concubines and not just a pretender or worse, an assassin.

Going by the novel's story, Alexandra had four lovers given the title of Imperial princess’ concubine and played the primary role of male leads for the main heroine to seduce. Firstly this has the problem of the point of view of Mina which only gave the reader information whenever she was with them. Secondly, the novel ended on the cliffhanger of Alexandra’s **** due to squeal bait so information on any future development of any character is basically halted.

An example being that both Dimitra and Jorg were fairly new introduced to the story so information on the former mainly came from backstory and the latter she barely knew anything about, not even his name until she asked him.

Lastly the fact that they’re now living breathing people and not characters on a page could make any knowledge she has of the novel null and void depending on how they respond.

Yet ruling both Dimitra and Jorg out she placed her knowledge aside; she just felt his hand. ‘It’s soft.’

His hand both gentle and soft to the touch this ruled the first concubine out Richard since he had the hands of a swordsman, rough to the touch from years of training to master the blade.

This left only. ‘Vizima Gelt the second concubine.’ The Imperial court teacher and physician who, like Richard, Alexandra brought along with her on the princess’ first campaigns but who was replaced by the vote from a group of nobles who wanted someone else to care for the imperial princess when she was wounded in battle.

“I know you prefer something more refined after playing around with that sex ****. I can serve you well.”

“No, I’m fi-…”

He tightened his grip on her hand and came up onto the bed. The mattress dipped from the added weight, then his shadow cast over her. When he had gotten close enough that she could feel his breath on her forehead she asked him. “What about Mina?”

He froze.

It seemed that her intuition had been right. His identity was…

“…. What is the meaning of your words?” He panicked.

“Look here.” She tapped his cheek with the tips of her fingers. “Are you like this because you’re worried I’ll hurt you?”

“……”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything.”

“I…..”

“Really, you thought to come straight to me after fucking that woman? A man should have some devotion.”

“……”

“Are you going to stay here all night? I’m tired. Go back to your room, let’s stop this.”

She was serious. The entire day she’d had people asking her for something she didn’t have. she was a little tired of this dull and emotionally draining exchange.

“…..Are you not jealous?”

“What?”

“I’m still… your concubine.”

“……”

He pulled his arms back from where they had been on either side of her head and straightened himself.

“Aren’t you angry?” It looked like he was the angry one instead. His words came out hard and fast. “Why, why do you always … why do you have to be so cruel, to me.”

'Cruel? Me? Right, I’m the Villainess. I almost forgot.’ she mused to herself before she disavowed him,

“But didn’t you sleep with someone else too?”

“I, I’m….. You -!”

“Choose one, me or her, and stick to it. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

As soon as she’d finished speaking, he bent over and was on top of her again. she instinctively tried to push him away but he grabbed her arm and **** it over her head. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m feeling sorry for myself? How could you of all people say that!”

“Do I still mean that much to you?”

Note: Honestly I really hope to explain the concepts in this chapter better.)