Impossible to Forget

My husband, the Princess Consort, was an exceedingly gentle man. So gentle that even when I brought his beloved, the moonlight of his heart, before him to be killed, he merely smiled faintly and softly asked whether I was tired. It was a pity that a man so tender also had a heart devoted to his ruler and country. He wanted to be a loyal subject to my elder brother, the Emperor, while I was not content to be merely a princess. So he died. He died the night before I ascended the throne, by my own hand. In the third year of my reign, someone brought me a man who looked just like him.