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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: An Unwelcome Father
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***
“Your Majesty, you seem to be in a good mood.”
“Do I?”
“Did you have an interesting conversation with the Little Marquess?”
While Riana was dazedly turning Ariel into a ball, Enoch, who had been on his way to meet the delegation, slowed his pace.
When he glanced to his side,
“I was wondering why your departure was delayed.”
The White Elder was suppressing a smile, the corners of his mouth soaring skyward as if reflecting his thoughts.
“? Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face?”
Normally, he would have said something in response.
Seeing Enoch remain silent, the White Elder awkwardly stroked his wrinkled face.
“Elder, you knew, didn't you?”
“Pardon? What are you referring to?”
“Hmm.”
… It would be nice if he would just tell me what it is.
A cold sweat trickled down his temple as he watched Enoch, who was simply smiling faintly with that familiar, ill-natured expression he sometimes wore.
‘Why is he suddenly acting like this? What does he mean, what did I know? I have no idea…’
All sorts of possibilities flooded the mind of the Elder, who only moments ago had been fondly watching the affectionate scene between Riana and Enoch.
*Let me see. What was it that I knew but didn't mention?*
*Was it that the Black Elder, drunk a fortnight ago, broke His Majesty’s favorite vase?*
*Or that I pretended not to see the Archmage step on His Majesty’s foot, feigning it was an accident?*
*Or perhaps…*
The Elder, recalling various things he had pretended not to know, felt a pang of guilt and spoke up.
Of course, it wasn't about his own misdeeds, but about the trouble caused by the Black Elder, Pavel.
“Your Majesty, could it be… are you asking about the incident a few days ago when Pavel drank all of your prized rum…?”
“…Did such a thing happen?”
*Oh, dear. That must not have been it.*
Meeting the Emperor’s astonished gaze, he felt sweat bead on his nose.
“Hah. So, that’s what happened. The Black Elder drank my entire stock of rum dry.”
Enoch let out a series of incredulous chuckles and quickened his pace.
“Right. So when is the Black Elder returning?”
“Pardon? Ah… he should be receiving the documents around now… so I believe he will be back before Your Majesty leaves for the picnic.”
Should he call this a blessing in disguise?
As it happened, the Black Elder had left right after breakfast, having received word that someone had arrived with items related to Riana.
*At least I’ve bought some time. Maybe if I handle this well, the scolding won’t be so severe…?*
A faint glimmer of hope appeared in the White Elder's dim eyes, but then,
“Haha. Good, then I must finish my business here quickly and return. It seems Pavel and I will have much to discuss after so long.”
It vanished immediately.
*It’s no use. All hope is lost.*
‘I’m sorry, Pavel. I told you to leave at least one bottle…!’
Gazing at his master’s lips, which were curved into the brightest smile he had ever seen, the White Elder silently prayed for his friend’s soul.
*May the documents you went to retrieve at least be useful…*
“Th-then, Your Majesty. What was it you said I knew about…?”
“Ah.”
He asked in a tense voice, looking at Enoch’s bright, deadly smile. Enoch pointed to his own chest.
“This.”
“Pardon?”
“You knew, didn't you?”
“What exactly did I—”
“That these strange feelings I’m experiencing are not some kind of healing crisis.”
“What do you mean by…?”
The White Elder’s eyes, which had been darting about anxiously as he tried to recall some other guilty secret, widened progressively.
“Your Majesty…!”
“Why do you call?”
“What did you just say?”
“You heard me perfectly well, why ask again?”
“No, no, Your Majesty. Just a moment. Not a healing crisis, you say?”
And how fast he walked.
The old man’s weary legs moved briskly to keep up with Enoch, who had once been a child that only came up to his knees but had since grown into a full-fledged adult.
“Your Majesty! What does that mean? Just a little hint for your loyal servant—oof!”
He had thought it would take much longer for his master, who was always hidden away within the walls he had built himself.
Excited by Enoch’s unexpectedly early realization of his feelings, the White Elder, unlike his usual self, was practically skipping when he suddenly collided with a broad back that had stopped in its tracks.
“Your Majesty, if you stop so suddenly… Your Majesty? What is it?”
He peeked around to the side to check Enoch’s face, which remained motionless despite his repeated calls.
“Elder. I never knew you were capable of such excitement. Quite a surprise.”
The voice that answered was familiar, though a little older than he remembered.
And at that voice, the wide smile on the White Elder’s lips slowly faded.
“Yes. That expression is much more familiar.”
“…It has been a long time.”
A timeworn title slipped from the Elder's lips as he bowed his head to the man standing before them.
“…Your Majesty.”
Then, from between lips that looked just like the current Emperor's—cool and sharp—came a dispassionate voice.
“‘Your Majesty’? It’s been ages since I stepped down.”
“…Father, what brings you here?”
“You say that as if I’ve come to a place I shouldn’t.”
“It is not a place you are likely to visit.”
A smirk.
The Former Emperor let out a dry laugh as he stared into eyes that were identical to his own, yet held not a shred of fatherly affection.
“You haven’t changed.”
“You haven’t changed either, Father.”
*What is he thinking this time?*
One day, he had suddenly forced the throne upon him, saying he no longer needed it.
Even when Enoch was being cursed as the man who drove out not only his mother but his father as well, he had remained holed up in his villa, never showing his face.
*What scheme has brought him to a place like this now?*
The pleasant, dream-like feeling from the morning vanished, and a sharp tension seized Enoch’s entire body.
As if he knew his son’s state of mind, or perhaps not.
The Former Emperor, his black hair streaked with white and slicked back rigidly, simply swirled the wine glass in his hand with an elegant motion.
“I heard there was a problem at the reception for the delegation.”
“It was merely a small disturbance.”
A rustle.
The Former Emperor, after a brief glance at Enoch, set his glass down.
“Duke Herington is said to have gained the upper hand in the war.”
“I’ve heard.”
“At this rate, he will soon return with news of victory.”
“…What is it you wish to say?”
“You are to hold the royal wedding. With the Duke's Daughter.”
A creak.
As he clenched his fist, the sound of his leather glove straining echoed ominously.
“I refuse.”
“It is something you will have to do eventually.”
“No matter when, it is something I will not do.”
At the voice, which for the first time in over a decade revealed his true feelings, the gray eyes that had been gazing into the distance turned to his son.
“You’ve changed.”
“…The current emperor is me, not you, Father. Therefore, you can no longer wield me to your will.”
“Did I ever wield you?”
Tap, tap.
The Former Emperor, habitually tapping the white table twice with his index finger, reached out to Enoch who stood before him.
“Yes. The master of this empire is you. However.”
Enoch flinched as the Former Emperor’s hand moved toward his face. The Former Emperor narrowed his brow, lowered his hand, and gripped his son’s shoulder.
“How can you properly rule when you are but half a man?”
“……”
“Those who still follow me, not you, make up more than half of this empire. Do not give them a reason to tear you apart. Obey the oracle quietly.”
“The oracle. That again.”
Enoch let out a weary laugh and took a step back.
“But Father.”
“?”
“That oracle you are so fond of, it makes no mention of the Duke's Daughter. It only mentions the bloodline of Daphne.”
“I’ve heard rumors that you’ve been getting close to that brat from House Daphne. Are you trying to say the oracle speaks of her?”
“Why? Do you think it couldn't be?”
“Ha! Ha, ha.”
The Former Emperor let out a strange laugh, his eyes and mouth devoid of mirth, and looked at Enoch with an unreadable expression.
“Do not be so stubborn.”
“Father.”
“What will be of most help to you now is the power the Duke holds.”
“How long do you think that power will last?”
“Who knows. As long as the Herington Duke's Daughter possesses the power of fire, it will continue.”
Pat, pat.
The Former Emperor heavily patted the starched shoulder of the uniform with the hand that gripped it, and then departed.
“Follow the natural course of things. The stubbornness of the powerless is nothing but childishness.”
He left with those parting words.
***
“Ariel, where are you?”
“Heehee.”
She waddled, yet she was so quick.
Ariel, who had already escaped to the promenade outside the palace, covered her chick-like mouth and giggled softly.
“Ariel, are you here?”
“Hup!”
Ariel, who had started a game of hide-and-seek by herself, crouched down at the sound of someone calling for her.
“Hehe. Gotta hide weal good!”
She couldn't let herself be caught so easily after becoming such a magnificent tomato ball!
The excited child crawled, rolled, and pattered about, fleeing from the voice that called her name.
After playing for some time,
“Huuuh? Mommy, where awe you?”
The child’s eyes welled with tears when she realized the voice calling for her had disappeared at some point.
“Heeing. 'Riel is done pwaying now…”
Had she wandered out of the Imperial Palace grounds? Everywhere she looked was unfamiliar.
Finally frightened by the new scenery, Ariel sniffled and tried to stand up.
Then she wobbled.
Her body, bundled in layers of clothing, lost its balance and toppled backward.
Fortunately, however, the small body fell not onto the hard dirt ground, but onto a voluminous dress.
“Huuuh?”
Buried in the pleasantly soft fabric, Ariel tilted her head back,
and in that moment.
The child’s large, green eyes filled with the sight of hair as dazzling as the sun.
“Mommy!”
Spotting her favorite color, Ariel stretched out both hands in delight.
*If I do this, she’ll pick me up like always, right?*
But sadly, what the child received in expectation of a warm embrace was,
“…What is this? Why is it here?”
A trembling voice and a pair of twisted green eyes.
