Translator: Nox

Chapter 50

"What if I want her so badly I crave to make her mine?"

He imagined it dozens of times a day. Even on Valzak, racing to a place unreachable in three days, he pictured himself dashing straight to her in one breath. Holding her in his arms, kissing her, burying his lips in her snow-white, slender neck. He tried to stop, but his mind kept groping for Frida unbidden. What did she truly want? To make the duchy livable? He could do that easily. No matter how much gold it cost. He wouldn't mind emptying Munheim Castle's vaults or exhausting the Rapas mountains' gold mines. But a child? What would bearing a child accomplish? Why... did she wish for something he could never give?

"If by some chance she bears a child, do you think the Dowager Empress would leave her be?"

She was a woman who would absolutely, no matter what, harm Frida. The Dowager Empress, knowing better than anyone where the Svergen Empire's misfortunes began, would never tolerate Daniel's child. Daniel had witnessed the countless schemes she orchestrated to suppress noble factions weakening imperial authority. She secretly funded rebellions, then sent Daniel to sweep them away the moment they gathered strength. They died without even realizing they'd been deceived.

"Then what about me? Should I cower silently again and bow before that woman?"

No. He couldn't bear it anymore. Hadn't he lived by her whims long enough? How much more penance must he pay?

"No. I won't hold back any longer. I'll make sure that woman never dares touch what's mine again."

Dominic quickly scanned the surroundings. Fortunately, Daniel's low voice was muffled by the noisy mountain beasts and didn't carry. But the aura he exuded was far from ordinary. Daniel usually restrained himself to the point of frustration, but once he exploded, it became uncontainable. He had to stop him. No matter what.

"Calm down, Daniel. Please take a deep breath. Nothing's happened yet—why are you like this?"

His father was best at soothing Daniel. Dominic suddenly missed him terribly. Glaring at the roaring flames, Daniel murmured in a low, eerie voice—calm without a trace of falsehood.

"Just try touching her. This time, I'll drag you to hell with me."

*** Heartless. Stingy. Cruel. Watching Chamberlain Count arrive leaning on his cane, Leopold pondered what phrase best suited his mother back at Shendal Castle. Had she harbored some grudge against him unbeknownst and sent this old man to make him suffer? Otherwise, why dispatch someone who could barely walk all the way here?

"You've had a hard journey because of me, Count."

"Hardship? Not at all, Your Majesty. This humble servant is overjoyed to see you. However, the Dowager Empress worries greatly for Your Majesty's well-being and fears for her health."

'That silver tongue never ages.'

Pity nearly welled for Chamberlain, clearly sent at his mother's behest, but it faded quickly.

"No need to worry about Mother's health. Isn't she of the famously long-lived Baichen family?"

He'd shouted to be left alone and stormed out, yet she couldn't hold back and sent this sly fox. Irritated since hearing of Chamberlain's arrival, Leopold raked his curly hair with a sharp gesture. Slouching crookedly in his chair, he peered down at Chamberlain.

"Mother wouldn't send you empty-handed. Hand over whatever you've brought."

As if waiting, Chamberlain drew a paper from his breast and offered it to Leopold.

"A document from the Margrave. A sighting of Arthur Notingen near the eastern border."

"Damn it. Quiet for years, and now this."

Arthur Notingen. A name tied to the imperial throne struggle. Truly vexing. Feeling suffocated, Leopold tugged at the ornate collar of his ceremonial robes. After days of leisure, even the emperor's attire felt constricting.

"Did Mother toss this at me to drag me back?"

"Arthur Notingen is dangerous. I beseech Your Majesty to heed your mother's concern for your safety and return to Shendal Castle."

Rising, Leopold shed his robes over the chair's back and strode to the window. Spring breeze from the Altas foothills cooled the sweat on his brow. Patricia's territory offered refreshing clarity that opened the lungs. The freedom he most needed now. Something impossible at Shendal Castle. Where could he go from here?

'How did I even escape there? I can't be dragged back so easily.'

He wouldn't return even in death for the time being.

"If Arthur Notingen was spotted at the eastern border, isn't this the safest place at the western edge?"

"Nowhere is safer than the imperial palace."

"Ah, what if I head south to Brother Daniel? With the empire's mightiest warrior there, that must be truly safe."

"Brother? Your Majesty! How can you address Duke Rihardt with such an undeserved title?"

True to the Dowager Empress's lackey, he stiffened. Seeing Chamberlain's reaction mirror his mother's, Leopold sneered.

"Your Majesty has already bestowed excessive favor on Duke Rihardt. Granting a title to a bastard is no small matter."

Upon becoming emperor, Leopold had granted the vacant Duke Rihardt title to his half-brother Daniel.

"Daniel Rihardt saved my life and beheaded the late emperor. If anyone has rendered greater service than saving the emperor's life, step forward. If such a thing exists."

He had quashed nobles rising with cries that bastards couldn't inherit titles. The Dowager Empress still called it unjust at every chance, but Leopold disagreed.

"Count. Five of the Twelve Dukes' names have long vanished into legend, and the mad Heidefeld Duke ended the sixth house. Thanks to Brother Daniel beheading the former emperor, Hartzfeld became the seventh."

Flatterers claimed before the Dowager Empress that the Baichen family made him emperor, but they spoke ignorantly. What use were a hundred Baichen scholars? This wasn't a war of books.

"Without Brother Daniel, Notingen might sit here. If I've granted him excessive favor, it's because his merits warrant it."

"Your Majesty, however..."

Halting Chamberlain with a hand, Leopold deeply inhaled Altas's clear, crisp air.

"Since it's come up, shall we flee to a safe place?"

He sorely missed Daniel today—his half-brother who stood unbowed and straightforward even before the legitimate heir. *** Adel, tidying the kitchen to leave, sighed deeply at the door creaking open.

"Goodness, Madam. You've brought work again today?"

Frida peeked in sheepishly, smiling with crinkled eyes. Her updone hair lent even her childlike grin a ducal air.

"Adel, take a look. I concentrate best here."

"If you can't focus, sleep. Why review documents now? Look at the hour."

"Once the knighting ceremony ends, I won't come."

"Not asking you not to come—do less work. How many days has it been?"

Glare aside, Adel warmed milk without real ire as Frida slipped to the table.

"With a new steward, your workload should decrease, yet it piles up daily. Is he truly working?"

Propping her chin over papers on the table's edge, Frida grinned playfully.

"Of course. Thanks to Boild Baron, it's so much easier. Just busy with the knighting nearing; once done, I'll sleep all day."

Fetching honey for the milk, Adel tsked loudly.

"As if I don't know you, Madam. You find work where none exists. Trying to fool me?"

Her stirring was tender, but grumbling sharpened.

"Hunting now, of all times. The lord is too much. Dumping all work on you and leisurely hunting alone."

The hunting party hadn't returned in half a month. Adel grumbled on before Frida shooed her out. Finally alone in the kitchen.

"Phew. Let's begin."

Deep breath, Frida spread papers across the wide table. Uniforms in varied colors and styles, crests, symbols, flags—nearly half the surface, all for Rihardt's first knight order. Boild Baron handled most, but Daniel had left him twenty-two tasks before departing, leaving no slack. Even if idle, Frida wanted to oversee this personally. Eyeing a blue uniform with silver trim, she set it aside.

"Hm, this color doesn't suit Ricardo."

Her gaze scrutinized each design meticulously. Daniel wanted extravagance, but couldn't make Ricardo look ridiculous.

"Darker than bright, probably?"

A deep red like Daniel's eyes drew her hand.

"No. No. This is for Knight Commander Sir Ricardo Molly. Get it together, Frida."

Discarding the red with rejects, she gravely reviewed the rest. A deep teal like midsummer fir with gray knots appealed.

"Hm, this works too."

Black with silver-embroidered sleeves wasn't bad, but too plain. Pouting, Frida kept scanning. Uniform color first for crests, flags—must decide quickly. No meddlesome Dominic; she'd pick freely. Lost in thought, she missed the kitchen door opening. Soft footsteps approaching. The owner halting, watching her with puzzled eyes. Lifting purple fabric over a black jacket design, Frida muttered.

"This is prettiest. With money, black jacket, tons of purple knots... Ah, purple cape too—flaunt!"

Miming a cape over shoulders, twirling—Frida froze.

Too shocked to scream, just blinking. Staring blankly at the unbelievable man before her. No routine questions: When did you arrive? Hunt successful? Enjoy your half-month outing? Glad you're safe... Reproach for wordless absence swallowed.

"Today..."

Daniel spoke first; Frida's held breath burst.

"You don't even want to talk to me."