With the emperor, she lets her guard down and feels at ease, unbeknownst to herself. She gets drunk.
He wants to steal a kiss from her. He knows she will not know because she has passed out.
She is right. He can be trusted. He does not take advantage of her.
When his existence is threatened by the political struggle in the court, she is there, always there, watching it unfold, watching him … his misfortune.
At the lowest points in his life, amidst all his helplessness and melancholy, she is there watching over him … his fortune.
Sitting back to back, he leans against her shoulder, tilts his head and rest it on hers. He can cry now. He can sigh now.
Though in trying to save himself, he has betrayed her and causes suffering to the ones she loves, she has always known that it is intentional, but he has no choice, that he is helpless, and that he has no means and no one to rely on. She is witness to his tragic life. How can she hate him?
She knows better than anyone that he succumbs to power, but he is no coward, that he betrays but he has integrity, that he is just a boy, but he is also a man.
He is illiterate. I find that very amusing.