Contract Marriage Rewritten
Chapter 37
Chapter 37
The moment Laniakea was mentioned, Hyperion’s expression turned frosty.
“Toward my Empress? Why?”
His lowered voice spoke volumes about his mood. Signo cursed the former Empress inwardly and answered.
“How would I know that? What is certain is that when she wasn’t in her right mind, she screamed curses at Her Majesty several times a day. It’s said the 4th Prince’s name came up between those words as well.”
At the mention of the 4th Prince, Hyperion looked puzzled.
“I’ve never heard of any issue between that bastard and Laniakea.”
“Who can say? So many things happen in secret within the palace, after all.”
“No. Laniakea never told me.”
At Hyperion’s remark, spoken as if it were only natural that she tell him everything, Signo fell silent.
No matter how he looked at it, his Emperor seemed to place absolute trust in the Empress.
“Your Majesty may tell Her Majesty everything, but Her Majesty’s position might be different.”
At Signo’s response, Hyperion closed his mouth.
Seeing him look so shocked, like a man who had never once entertained such a possibility, Signo was the one left utterly dumbfounded.
“At any rate, I will see to it that more eyes and ears are placed on the former Empress. Raking up turmoil in the Imperial Palace before everything has settled will only make the citizens of the Empire uneasy.”
“Right. It would be best if she didn’t make a nuisance of herself.”
Muttering so, Hyperion pushed the document concerning the former Empress aside.
Anyone else would have found his behavior baffling. Was it not the former Empress who had shoved his life into an obscure corner when he was an imperial prince?
The fact that such a woman, far from reflecting in quiet seclusion, was rampaging and spewing curses at the reigning imperial couple was evidence enough to tighten the noose around her neck at any time.
Yet Hyperion had merely sent her out of the Imperial Palace and taken no further action.
Hyperion traced back through his feelings toward the former Empress.
In truth, he felt nothing at all. Neither hatred, nor resentment, nor anger.
To him, the former Empress was a presence that evoked as little emotion as a number written on a piece of paper.
‘Sending me far away must have been her best option.’
In her heart, she probably wanted to kill him and be done with it, but she must have feared the infamy that would cling to her if she did.
Was that not why she had even sent occasional letters asking after his well-being when Hyperion was young, pretending to be an affectionate mother?
Even when he reached adulthood, left the Monastery, and went to the Border on the Empress’s orders, Hyperion had harbored no discontent.
Though they said no nation beyond the Northern Great Forest could stand against the Empire, there were Barbarians who made appearances from time to time. They would descend from the forest to pillage the Empire’s civilian homes and slaughter its people without mercy.
If one was of imperial blood, protecting the suffering people of the Empire was a rightful duty. Thus, Hyperion quietly guarded the Border. For that was one of his duties.
He had lived so quietly, yet after he went to the Border, the Empress gradually began sending assassins.
A person dying at the Border was a daily, natural occurrence. So she must have intended to pin the blame on the Barbarians if he died.
Even while disposing of the assassins the Empress occasionally sent, Hyperion thought nothing more than that it was bothersome.
If he were to dig deeper into that emotion, pity was mingled with the nuisance.
‘She must find her own children quite unreliable.’
The former Empress had borne three children. Though he had never crossed paths with them, they were said to be physically sound princes.
If so, the Empress had no need to mind Hyperion.
Instead of the unremarkable Hyperion, one of her sons would already be standing out as the next Emperor, gaining the support of the people.
Then, naturally, there would be no reason to care about a prince stuck out at the Border.
Yet the Empress continued to send assassins. That was because the moment Hyperion returned, he would pose a threat to the princes.
So Hyperion decided to take pity on the Empress.
To think that despite holding the imperial family in her grasp and acting as she pleased for decades, she did not have a single useful child to show for it.
One midnight, as he was dragging away the corpse of a slain assassin, Signo—who had awakened from the noise—caught sight of the body.
He too had let out a long yawn as if this were just routine, muttering:
“They say useless children drive parents mad… *yawn*… What a real nuisance she is.”
It was a remark that swept both the Emperor and Empress of the Empire into a single cutting blow, but Hyperion said nothing. He, too, agreed with those words.
The former Empress had done nothing right, but holding such a poor hand of cards, it was likely the best she could do.
Suddenly, Hyperion wondered what he would have done in her place. If there were a capable royal who was not his own flesh and blood, what would he have done?
Just as he was lost in thought for a moment, a knock sounded at the door.
When Signo told them to enter, clerks walked in with armfuls of towering documents.
Signo asked in a languid voice, as though nothing could surprise him anymore.
“Where were these sent from?”
“They are documents sent from the Empress Palace…”
Thud!
Before the clerk could even finish speaking, Hyperion sprang up like lightning and swiftly grabbed the uppermost document.
Wondering if he had done something wrong, the clerk trembled and looked back and forth between Hyperion and Signo.
Signo swallowed a sigh and told the clerk to leave.
Though the clerks fled as if running for their lives, Hyperion did not spare them a single glance, entirely engrossed in the documents from the Empress Palace.
Signo shook his head and said he would take his leave. Hyperion would not look at any other work until he had reviewed every last document from the Empress Palace anyway.
Besides, he had wrapped up most of today’s tasks already, so he had time to spare.
Thus, reviewing documents from the Empress Palace was no different from a break for Hyperion.
Was it not obvious just from his expression right now?
‘No matter how many times I see it, I just can’t get used to it.’
The Hyperion that Signo knew was a man who lived solely for duty.
A man who felt neither sadness nor distress, living as dryly as a wooden doll.
Saving people in that harsh land and establishing the Knight Order; flipping through books brought by someone who had traveled to the Capital to acquire new knowledge, even after returning drenched in the blood of Barbarians—to Hyperion, these were things done simply because they were duties, nothing more.
Put differently, he had never paid any attention to matters outside his duty.
The very first non-duty action such a man had ever taken was the bouquet sent to the Empress Palace.
Something he had no obligation to send. Something filled only with personal emotion.
Hyperion had deliberated for a long time over such a thing, personally picking and choosing the flowers again and again.
Though he had been by Hyperion’s side for quite some time, that day was the first time Signo had ever seen him moved by something other than necessity.
That was why Signo was worried. What if someone were to harm the person Hyperion held so exceptionally dear?
“Ugh…”
As he closed the door and stepped out, Signo shuddered involuntarily.
The image of the former Empress being dragged from the funeral hall flashed through his mind.
May she refrain from doing anything foolish.
For now, he could only hope for that.
* * *
After Signo left, Hyperion slowly examined the documents sent from the Empress Palace. They were all paperwork concerning the first official banquet.
Hyperion recalled the sight of Laniakea in the Main Palace. The way she had approached him with delight the moment she saw him.
He had been thrilled, wondering if she was waiting for him, but she immediately led him to a mountain of paperwork and fired questions without pause.
It would be a lie to say there was no lingering regret that the documents had taken precedence over him.
Yet at the same time, seeing her approach the duties of the Empress so earnestly brought him even greater joy.
She was a woman who had told him several times that she would remain in the position of Empress for only a year.
If so, she could have comfortably put off the work and left it untouched. Hyperion had already prepared things so that doing so would cause no issue.
Yet Laniakea engaged in the Empress’s duties with utmost diligence.
When he told her she did not need to rush so much as he watched her take notes incessantly on what he explained, Laniakea had shaken her head and told him:
“I cannot do that. If I handle things clumsily, it will only make things difficult for Your Majesty.”
She had probably spoken without much thought. She likely meant that she did not want to give the former Empress’s faction any leverage while the situation was still unstable.
Even so, Hyperion wanted to believe she was trying this hard out of concern for him.
The moment he turned a page, suppressing the corners of his lips that kept trying to curl upward—
Flutter.
A small paper envelope fell out. It was about the same size as the envelopes he sent with the bouquets every time.
When he opened it, inside was a short letter written in Laniakea’s familiar handwriting.
[Your Majesty, could we perhaps move up the day we meet at the Main Palace? It is so hard to wait until then that I am writing this let—]
“Hm?”
The letter cut off there.
Just in case, Hyperion checked the front and back of the letter, but naturally, no other writing was to be found.
Feeling puzzled, he read her letter again. His eyes kept lingering on the very last words.
The sentence saying that it was hard to wait until then.
* * *
At the same time.
“Has anyone seen the letter I left here to throw away?”
Laniakea was rummaging through her desk with a tearful expression.