Catherine and the Black Emperor

050. Give up

5 month.

A piece of exciting news spread through the court: Grand Duke Peter had defeated smallpox!

"Today is the day the Grand Duke officially appears before everyone. Look at the throne room, the women are dressed in their finest attire, and the men look wealthy." Naryshkin stood beside Sergei.

Sergei knew that he was complaining that he had told him to dress more plainly.

But he didn't explain much, because he knew the other party would soon understand his good intentions.

"Her Majesty the Queen has seen all our hard work and tireless efforts for the Grand Duke during this time, which has elevated my status. Sergei, you truly are my good brother!" Naryshkin whispered.

He's been really busy lately, but it's all been worth it.

Sergei didn't rest for a single day in order to help Peter recover; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he was exhausted.

Elizabeth saw this and thus ensured his position was secure, which was secondary.

His real goal was for Peter to survive, for Elizabeth to be not yet seriously ill and still capable of ruling, and for Peter to die at that point, so that Catherine would be expelled from the Winter Palace.

There would have been no Catherine the Great.

The two people waiting outside saw Peter emerge from the room.

Even though he was mentally prepared, Naryshkin was still startled by Peter's appearance.

That face, which wasn't exactly pretty to begin with, was completely ruined.

His swollen skin was covered with irreparable pimples, pitted and swollen. His hair had been shaved off, and the wig he wore made him look even more terrifying. His body had suffered unimaginable damage.

At Sergei's signal, Naryshkin skillfully concealed his expression.

Sergei stepped forward.

"Your Excellency, congratulations on defeating the demons of hell! If King Frederick knew, he would surely acknowledge your courage. This is the best legend of yours in Prussia!"

Peter looked at Sergei with gratitude.

"I've heard from the servants about everything you've done for me these past few days, Sergei. You and Naryshkin are my most important friends, and I will always be grateful to you!"

"Your Excellency, you should go see Her Majesty. She is waiting for you in the throne room," Sergei reminded him.

Peter nodded and walked out of the room, with Sergei and Naryshkin following behind him.

Along the way, they encountered many guards and servants. The soldiers were fine and didn't react much, but the servants were terrified by Peter's face covered in pustules.

This enraged Peter: "Kneel down!"

Under his angry rebuke, the servants knelt on the ground in fear.

Peter walked up the Ambassador's Staircase and arrived at the Throne Room.

Courtiers and nobles lined both sides of the red carpet. When Peter appeared, even though they were mentally prepared, the men still showed surprise and strange expressions, while the noblewomen looked panicked and took a few steps back as if avoiding a plague.

"To them, I'm a plague!" Peter said angrily to Sergei and Naryshkin in a low voice.

"His Majesty is watching you," Sergei whispered a reminder.

Peter stepped forward, opening his arms wide: "Auntie, I'm here!"

Elizabeth looked at Peter's disfigured face, but instead of hugging him, she smiled and congratulated him: "Peter Romanov, you've finally recovered."

Peter was disappointed once again, but he dared not hate his aunt and instead glared resentfully at the people below the stage.

Those dressed in the most splendid attire were especially subjected to Peter's undisguised gaze. The courtiers and nobles averted their eyes, not daring to breathe loudly.

"Sergei, you were prescient." Naryshkin now understood why Sergei had told him to dress more plainly.

In any case, Peter's appearance in the throne room announced to Russia and Europe that the heir to the throne had defeated smallpox.

This not only consolidated Elizabeth's rule over Russia, but also strengthened the confidence of the Russian people—smallpox was not invincible!

"Peter," Ekaterina stepped forward.

"Shut up!" Peter said coldly, standing in front of Elizabeth.

After the ceremony ended and Elizabeth left, everyone else also left the throne room one after another. Peter walked toward the noblewomen who had been whispering about him. A few of them were still talking, but they immediately fell silent when they saw Peter coming.

As they got closer, Peter went from walking to running, yelling and lunging at them with his claws outstretched.

The noblewomen screamed in terror and fled in panic.

Peter's hearty laughter echoed through the throne room.

As Peter walked toward his room, Ekaterina, who had been following behind him, couldn't help but call out to him.

"Enough! You think I didn't see you backing away? Admit it, the sight of you disgusts me!"

"No, I was frightened, but I thank God for your recovery, and I have been praying for you," Ekaterina explained.

Peter smiled mockingly: "Prayer, what an absurd ritual! I swear, unless forced, I will never set foot in a church again!"

"Once I ascend the throne, I will abolish the Eastern Orthodox Church! When the time is right, I will make everyone pay the price!"

At this point, he became hysterical, his expression contorted like that of a wild beast.

Ekaterina had calmed down, and she looked at him with a composed and wise gaze.

"It's best if what you're saying is just said in anger. Her Majesty the Queen is always very worried about your safety, as are we all."

Peter sneered: "Of course she's worried. She's afraid that if I die, those ministers will kill her and seize power. She's just a woman; anyone can kill her! Shuvalov, Aprakshin, Besdudev..."

Ekaterina's eyes turned cold: "I am a woman too."

"So what?" Peter was not afraid at all; in fact, the sarcasm on his face became even more pronounced.

"You say you're praying for me, but stop pretending. If I die, my aunt will kick you out, and might even lock you up in a convent. And... don't look at me like I'm a monster!"

Ekaterina stepped forward to try to explain.

"Snapped!"

Peter slapped Ekaterina across the face, his roar echoing down the corridor.

"roll!"

Peter left, leaving Ekaterina standing there, covering her face, stunned.

On the other side of the corridor, the window casts a long shadow of a person on the floor.

Sergei witnessed all of this firsthand.

To be precise, when Catherine called Peter, he knew what was going to happen, but he did not stop her and silently watched it all.

After Peter left, he went to Catherine's side.

Her cheeks were flushed, and tears welled in her eyes.

But the emotions in those blue eyes were completely different from those of the original carefree girl.

"He's not worth doing anything more for him," Sergei said.

This time, Ekaterina did not refute as she had done before. She was completely resigned and admitted that Sergei's words were indeed her truest thoughts.

Her gaze turned indifferent and calm as she looked in the direction Peter had left.

"You're right, I'll no longer have any illusions about him changing his mind!"