* * *
Eren had no surviving family, but the important point was that both Helid and himself were from Epentel.
There were still nobles who held grudges against Epentel.
If rumors spread that Eren had stirred up a scandal with a trial, life in the Trovien Empire would become all the more difficult.
Especially for Ashard, publicly known as Eren’s lover.
Even as the victim, Eren knew all too well that the world would still cast blame in his direction, just as much as the perpetrator.
The Trovien nobles didn’t know much about Eren or Helid yet, and exposing such details wouldn’t benefit anyone.
Just as the Empress said, the desired outcome was unlikely.
‘I’d love to formally accuse him and watch him rot in prison for life…’
But unfortunately, it was an attempted crime. At best, it would end with a fine.
‘And there’s no guarantee the case would even go to trial…’
Unlike the constant hearings held for commoners, noble trials were rare.
The aristocracy hated having their family honor tarnished or setting legal precedents.
‘Damn this filthy world.’
Whether it was Korea or this place, the legal system was trash all the same.
It was a prime opportunity to get rid of Helid, and he couldn’t help but feel bitter.
“The Princess’s punishment is enough.”
“Speaking of which… you seem to have gotten quite close with Ashard.”
The rumor of Eren and Ashard being lovers had long spread across the Empire.
There was no way the Empress didn’t know.
Just as Eren was wondering why she brought it up now, he realized her gaze was fixed on his neck.
Startled, he hastily adjusted his shirt.
‘D-Don’t tell me she saw it…?’
The red marks Ashard had left on him that morning.
He’d been caught by Melody once before, so it was a reflexive reaction.
Like a thief with a guilty conscience.
“That shirt—you’re wearing it for the first time, aren’t you?”
Thankfully, it wasn’t what he feared.
Letting out a small sigh of relief, Eren asked,
“Shirt…?”
“Seems you didn’t know. The one you wore when you came to see me before, and that one too—those were gifts your late parents bought for Ashard’s birthday. I believe he was around… fourteen back then.”
…Fourteen?
Eren had always thought the people of the Trovien Empire—especially those with Fridit blood—were abnormally large.
But fourteen?
That was barely the start of adolescence.
Ashard at fourteen had been roughly the same size as Eren now?
It was hard not to be shocked.
Remembering how the Crown Prince had teased him for being small, this whole situation was honestly ridiculous.
Normally, he might’ve felt his pride wounded, but now?
In the face of such overwhelming facts, pride seemed irrelevant.
“Hahaha… Ashard’s always been broad-shouldered, even as a kid. He grew so fast; his sizes kept changing.”
“Ah…”
“And that shirt you’re wearing… it was the last thing his parents bought him before they passed. That day—the carriage accident. Apparently, even as the carriage overturned, his mother held onto it tightly.”
Eren was at a loss for words.
He simply stayed silent, listening to the Empress speak.
“So we kept it stored away carefully in his wardrobe. He outgrew it so quickly, never even wore it.”
“I… see…”
“To be honest, I was a bit surprised when I first met you. That stubborn boy gave you something he cherished so much.”
Eren had wondered why there were small clothes that fit him in Ashard’s closet, but hadn’t asked.
Unlike his indifferent attitude, the Empress’s expression looked unexpectedly sorrowful.
Eren had suspected there was some story behind it, but he hadn’t imagined this.
Realizing Ashard valued him enough to hand over something so precious made him happy… yet, for some reason, his heart felt heavy.
Eren fidgeted with his hands, a complicated look on his face as the Empress watched him quietly.
‘The boy’s always had good instincts about people.’
Thinking back, Ashard had always been that way—uncannily good at sensing friend from foe.
And if someone like Ashard had brought Eren here personally, of course the Empress’s first impression of him would be favorable.
“Anyway, I heard Melody and Elyrion have been bothering you quite a bit.”
“Ah… It’s not like that. Both of them are just eager to learn.”
“Melody, sure. But Elyrion? I didn’t expect him to be so persistent. He’s always thought highly of himself.”
Exactly. Eren agreed silently with the Empress.
The moment Elyrion suddenly knelt down and begged him to be his teacher—what an awkward mess that was.
Even now, thinking back, it was absurd.
“When did you learn magical formulas? I knew you were sharp, but I didn’t realize your magic skills were exceptional too.”
“The Count is skilled in magical formulas as well?”
The Emperor, who had seemed uninterested, suddenly jumped into the conversation as if he had been listening all along from the side.
“……It’s nothing special, really.”
“There’s no way that’s true. If it wasn’t anything remarkable, the Crown Prince wouldn’t have asked to learn from you.”
Out of courtesy, Eren had denied it, but the conversation already felt like the answer was predetermined.
He gave an awkward smile.
It was relatively easy to be around the Empress—maybe because she resembled Ashard so much, or perhaps because she was always friendly—but the Emperor was a different story.
Every time he faced that man, he couldn’t help but recall the time he kept pressuring him to become the Imperial Consort.
Of course, it wasn’t exactly comforting.
Especially the way he smiled, saying there was no reason for Eren to refuse, after preserving the titles of those three bastards… it still grated on him.
“Now that you’ve rightfully become a citizen of the Trovien Empire, how about becoming my aide?”
…What the hell. First, it was ‘be my consort,’ now it’s ‘be my aide’?
Eren’s expression nearly stiffened without him realizing, but then the Empress’s playful remark nearly made him laugh out loud.
“Didn’t you promise me, Your Majesty? You really want to be sleeping in separate chambers?”
“……I didn’t say anything.”
The Emperor muttered under his breath, ‘I’m the one who asked to bring the Count here,’ but the Empress completely ignored him.
Perfectly shutting him down.
“He said he’d only teach one of you, right? So, have you decided who it’ll be?”
“Ah, that…”
“Guess not yet. In that case, choose Melody. That Elyrion brat may be my son, but even I—”
It seemed she hadn’t heard about the arrangement to teach whoever brought back the prize from the hunting competition.
Just as Eren was about to explain, someone else cut in abruptly.
“Of course, that’ll be me, Mother.”
The one answering with a bright smile was the Crown Prince, Elyrion.
Dressed perfectly in hunting attire, he plopped down confidently next to Eren.
“We won’t know until we measure the length, right, Brother?”
As Elyrion moved into view, Melody appeared behind him.
Sitting at the far end, she looked different from usual.
Her lips, normally devoid of expression, curled slightly upward, as if something good had happened.
Perhaps she was confident of today’s victory.
That aside, with both the Crown Prince and Princess seated, Eren could feel the stares intensifying.
Thanks to Ashard abandoning him at the Empress’s side, he now found himself plopped squarely in the middle of the Imperial family.
To his right, the Empress and Emperor; to his left, the Crown Prince and Princess.
‘…What kind of throne of thorns is this?’
Eren desperately wished for the hunting tournament to start already.
At least then, the Crown Prince and Princess would leave to compete, giving him some space.
As if sensing his thoughts, the Emperor conveniently stood up.
Unlike his somewhat bumbling demeanor around the Empress, his posture now was the very picture of solemn authority, signaling the start of the event.
Eren let out a quiet gasp at the rare display of seriousness.
The Empress stifled a laugh and whispered softly,
“He might seem like a fool, but he is the one responsible for this empire.”
* * *
