CHAPTER 026
Every three months. Precisely thirty minutes.
This was the time the Emperor allocated to members of the imperial family, related by blood or marriage.
"The former emperors used to do this pointless task twice a month, for over two hours. I suppose I should endure this much. After all, that's what makes a wise ruler."
Maxwell thought as he looked at the eight members of the imperial family gathered in the second reception room of the imperial palace.
With a subtle smile on his lips and his cool, red eyes revealing no emotion, he greeted them as usual.
Today, the gathered members had been passionately discussing a single topic for over twenty minutes since they had barely sat down on the sofas in the reception room.
Usually, they would be busy trying to gain the Emperor's attention in the short thirty minutes, but this time, they were united in their chatter.
"He’s a noble not even in the regional nobility council. How incompetent must one be to hold a title but not even own a single estate, let alone a house?"
"And what about the Baron of Kender, who is the uncle-in-law of Lady Arabelle? That family has been shunned and practically ignored by noble society. How can they all be living as dependents on such a man?"
"Have you heard? She couldn’t even hold a debutante ball for her coming-of-age ceremony because the pigs she was raising fell ill with a plague. Ha! How poor must she be to skip a coming-of-age ceremony because her pigs were sick?"
"What's a debutante ball? They say she didn't even attend Madame Bozell's etiquette classes, which are a must for high-ranking noble ladies. Can she even dance properly at a banquet? If the Empress, who is supposed to represent the empire, has never attended a proper banquet, she will surely be the laughingstock of other kingdoms."
"Forget social dances, she can't speak a word of Agrathe, the language used by high-ranking noble ladies. Agrathe has long led the continent in arts and culture. If the Empress can't speak the language, they will look down on her as an ignoramus. How will she lead the trends among noble ladies and spread the arts? She's truly an unsuitable candidate."
"She is not Empress material. She lacks the level needed to support Your Majesty."
Without answering, the Emperor lazily directed his gaze at the teacup in front of him. At that moment, the Empress Dowager, wearing a mask of kindness, spoke up.
"Your wise Majesty must have had a deep reason for personally choosing Lady Arabelle. However, compared to the ten ladies who made it to the final selection, the difference is stark. We voice our concerns because we worry. If Lady Arabelle were to give up out of shame during the contest... it could tarnish Your Majesty's reputation. Perhaps it would be better to quietly withdraw her before the contest begins."
"The Empress Dowager is right, Your Majesty. The selection of the Empress is not a private matter of emotions between a man and a woman but a decision for the empire. It would be far better for the young lady to withdraw now than to be humiliated during the contest. Given her efforts to come this far, a generous reward and a return to her hometown would be appropriate."
Even Grand Duchess Caroline Le Sang, who was usually at odds with the Empress Dowager, agreed with her. Of course, she didn't forget to wear the expression of an aunt genuinely concerned for her niece.
The gathered members were busy belittling the eleventh candidate for the Empress, taking comfort in the Emperor's subtle smile. However, in their enthusiasm, they failed to notice the slight twist of his red lips into a mocking smile.
Creak, the armchair's large armrest slid back as the Emperor's long, slender legs straightened.
"I am always delighted to see you all in attendance without a single absence, even amidst your busy schedules."
As the exact thirty minutes ended, the Emperor rose from his seat.
"I'll see you in three months."
"Does that mean you will consider our advice regarding Lady Arabelle?"
The Count of Keves, grandson of the Emperor's granduncle, asked, and the others nodded, looking at the Emperor.
"Advice..."
For the first time during this meeting, the Emperor raised an amused eyebrow. Tilting his head slightly and lifting his chin, his gaze naturally lowered.
"Words given to those who ask for opinions are called advice, but to those who neither ask nor care, they are just noise, like a dog barking. Just like right now."
As his cold red eyes became visible, the air inside the room grew chillingly cold.
"According to the imperial regulations, the winner of the contest will become the Empress. I will marry the last remaining lady, no matter who she is."
The Emperor sneered at the relatives standing in stunned silence.
"So stop wasting your energy here and go back to focus on your own issues. I worry because you have a mountain of problems to solve, from inheritance issues related to illegitimate children to premarital pregnancies and tax evasion. This is what we call advice."
Passing by the Empress Dowager, who forced a smile, the Emperor whispered softly.
"Especially considering your frail son, who is suffering from aphasia due to the recent kidnapping incident. It's fortunate that he's not as ill as the rumors suggest. He should recover quickly to join the war for the glory of the empire."
The Empress Dowager's lips twisted in anger as she watched the Emperor's leisurely departure.
***
After completing the final review of the documents following the Northern and Western Coalition Subjugation Operations with the chief commanders, the Emperor spoke, still not lifting his gaze from the papers.
"Is there anything more to say?"
"Well..."
After the commanders left, Kyle, the aide, who remained alone with the Emperor, hesitated, watching for the right moment to speak.
"It seems Lady Arabelle is being ostracized. This morning, there was a skirmish because it appeared that she was the only one not informed about the etiquette class that would aid in the competition. The person managing the schedule claimed they informed her maid, while the maid insists she never received such a report."
Despite Kyle's words, the Emperor continued his work, his face unmoved, his quill pen busily moving. Thinking the Emperor might not have heard him, Kyle leaned closer to his ear and repeated his report.
"I discreetly investigated and found that many incidents, both big and small, have occurred since Lady Arabelle arrived at the palace. She has been on the receiving end of these incidents. Should we place an ally in the separate palace? The Competition Committee is heavily biased in favor of Lady Grace and Princess Lilibet, but... if Your Majesty shows a bit of interest, the situation might quickly turn around."
"Why should I?"
When the Emperor looked up from the documents and asked, Kyle flustered, stammered his reply.
"Well, because... the lady Your Majesty personally chose is having a hard time... isn't she?"
Why? Kyle wondered. Bringing her as a candidate for Empress means that the Emperor wants her to be selected as Empress, right? Or does His Majesty take some strange pleasure in watching others suffer?
As Kyle stood there, unable to grasp the Emperor's intentions, the Emperor spoke briefly.
"Why should I step in when she hasn't asked for help?"
The Emperor's furrowed brow briefly showed his displeasure before he stood up.
"Isn't it time to inspect the Imperial Guard? This time, I will also participate in the training, so prepare accordingly."
The workaholic Emperor carried on his meticulously planned duties. The lady placed in the separate palace seemed entirely out of his concern now.
As Kyle hurried to follow the Emperor, who was striding towards the training grounds with long steps, he thought.
***
Imperial Guard's First Training Ground.
"Huff, huff, huff."
"Hiya!"
"Ugh...!"
The training ground, with its sandy floor, was filled with the rough breathing of the knights.
Despite the late autumn chill, the intense sparring had left the young knights' bodies drenched in sweat, gleaming in the light.
Today's finale.
A sparring match between the Emperor and the three strongest, most vigorous young knights of the Imperial Guard that could pass for an actual battle.
The overall best in the guard was Deputy Commander Peter, but that was when they fought with swords and spears in accordance with chivalric formalities. Now, their only weapon was their bodies.
Sweat trickled down the Emperor's bronze-toned upper body, glistening in the sunlight as he had discarded his top. His intellectual and elegant face contrasted sharply with his physique.
His upper body, densely packed with lean muscle in a perfect V-shape, exuded a wild charm with every movement. The silhouette of the solid muscles of his long legs was intimidating even through his training pants.
'I told her to ask for help if she needed it...! Yet, she hasn't sought me out even once since returning to the separate palace.'
He had subtly hinted to Arabelle in the carriage on the way back to the palace.
'If you need my help, don't hesitate to ask. If you tell Vera, she'll contact me right away.'
She had smiled without a word, and he had taken it as a given that she would do so.
"Hiya...!"
The Emperor contracted his jaw, hooking his leg around a knight who seemed twice his weight and slamming him to the ground.
'I gave clear hints for several days while providing the lessons. Not one of them was understood. Even if she did understand, she hasn’t utilized any of them!'
He had given specific examples, explained how to avoid direct answers about her family, and detailed ways to cleanse her identity, but it was all for naught.
Now that he thought about it, it seemed she didn't consider any of it related to her.
'How can she be so honest... To think everyone is like her after all that? This isn’t naivety, it’s foolishness. It’s like presenting her neck for others to bite.'
As the image of her round face with red-rimmed eyes, unable to even shed proper tears, came to mind,
"Hiyaaa!"
The Emperor grabbed the shoulder of a large man charging at him, kneeing him in the abdomen before flipping him over and throwing him aside.
'Even so... she doesn't ask for my help. I clearly told her how to contact me.'
As he threw a powerful punch at the last remaining knight, the blue veins in the Emperor's neck throbbed with uncontrollable emotion.
***
A serene lotus garden at sunset.
The ten candidates were currently practicing social dances with the top choreographer from Chantel at Lady Grace's villa.
As Arabelle walked alone along the gravel path, hidden from view by the dense tall trees surrounding the garden, a yellow ginkgo leaf fell at her feet.
Taking another step thoughtlessly, another leaf fell at her feet, and then another, as if showing her the way.
'Now that I think about it, there are no ginkgo trees in this garden...'
Arabelle thought as she looked up at the tall trees.
A yellow ginkgo leaf fell through the cherry branches, brushing against her lips before landing at her feet.
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