* * *
A frigid exchange unfolded over steaming cups of tea.
Raising his cup to his lips, the emperor remarked, “Indeed, the distance between the northern territories and the capital is considerable. One can hardly fault you for your circumstances.”
The distance was as far or as near as one’s intentions.
If the duke wished, traveling between the north and the capital wouldn’t be an issue.
But that distance symbolized the chasm between them—created when the emperor killed the duke’s parents and remained consumed by his own deep-seated inferiority.
“Yes, yes, I’m aware. The monster infestations in the north have been a persistent nuisance, leaving you little time for anything else. Knowing that, I personally stepped in to handle matters this time, didn’t I? Surely, that’s something you should be grateful for.”
The duke, still kneeling, didn’t respond.
The emperor chuckled bitterly, his voice laced with frost.
“Yet for someone living in the harsh north, your face looked much healthier the last time I saw you.”
“All thanks to Your Majesty’s benevolence, of course.”
The emperor’s hollow laughter echoed through the opulent room.
“Enough flattery. Take a seat.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The duke rose from the crimson carpet and sat on the sofa.
The emperor’s gaze flitted to the duke’s hand before quickly darting away.
“Frankly, I didn’t expect you to come so promptly when summoned. How unusual.”
“How could I,” the duke interrupted before the emperor could finish, “ever disobey Your Majesty’s command?”
Daringly.
The duke’s hand brushed the cup’s intricate pattern as he spoke.
For someone who had committed a potentially provocative act, his expression remained impassive.
The emperor glanced at the ruby-red tea, scoffing lightly as he set his cup down.
“Indeed, how could you disobey my command? Daringly, as you say. Is that not right?”
The duke merely toyed with the cup, offering no reply.
The emperor watched him silently before posing another question.
“Then am I to understand you’ll also follow my wishes regarding your marriage to the duchess?”
His piercing gaze tried to uncover some hidden emotion in the duke’s face.
The duke, unfazed, calmly asked in return, “May I inquire which duchess Your Majesty is referring to?”
“Which duchess? There’s only one, isn’t there?”
“Indeed, my duchess is one and only.”
The duke nodded as if hearing an irrefutable truth, then reached for his cup.
The emperor, observing every movement, prodded further.
“If you speak so confidently, then surely you’re well-prepared for the marriage?”
The duke replied with composure.
“It’s a once-in-a-lifetime union. I’m doing my utmost to prepare only the finest.”
“Yet for all that enthusiasm, you only send curt replies to me and haven’t even requested a single portrait of your bride.”
“……”
“Are all northerners so blunt? Or is it that you’re not inclined to be a loving husband? Unless…”
The emperor trailed off, choosing his words as carefully as one crossing a stone bridge over rushing waters.
“The oracle has been given, so does that mean you’re so devout that appearances don’t matter to you?”
“Why would the Grand Duchess’ appearance matter at all?”
The Emperor curled one side of his lips in faint displeasure.
“I just wondered if the Grand Duke might have… ulterior thoughts.”
The Grand Duke, who had been lifting his teacup, set it back down on the table without drinking.
“I would never give my heart to anyone other than my Grand Duchess.”
The Emperor, knowing that there were those in the central temple hoping to share blessings with the Grand Duke, chuckled silently.
He was pleased to have interrupted that plan in time.
“Well, that would hold as long as your resolve remains unshaken…”
Trailing off, the Emperor glanced at the untouched teacup in front of the Grand Duke and abruptly changed the topic.
“Oh dear, the tea has already cooled. It’s best enjoyed warm, you know. You needn’t worry—I’m not so petty as to tamper with your tea.”
The Emperor sipped his tea leisurely, his gaze fixed on the Grand Duke.
Meeting his eyes, the Grand Duke lifted the cup to his lips and replied,
“The aroma is delightful, Your Majesty. I look forward to the taste.”
As the Grand Duke’s Adam’s apple moved and the tea level lowered, the Emperor smiled meaningfully and added,
“Do you think I summoned you here just to enjoy a simple cup of tea? Tonight’s banquet will be far more entertaining than you expect.”
Ronen glanced around the Grand Duke’s office.
It had been a week since his older brother left the northern castle.
“It feels too dark in here.”
He turned on all the lights in the room, including the enchanted lamp on the desk, and drew back the curtains.
The office always felt emptier in his brother’s absence, and he didn’t want the gloom to amplify that void.
Though the past few days had been overcast, the sun peeked through the clouds that afternoon, casting a soft glow into the room.
After tidying the curtains, Ronen gazed outside and murmured, “I hope Brother and Ed come back soon.”
A small dragon, curled up on top of his head, lifted its head and let out a soft “Kyah.”
Ronen chuckled, feeling as though it was agreeing with him.
“Right, they’ll be back soon!”
Though the northern castle felt a bit quieter and more subdued without his brother, Ronen shook his head resolutely.
“That’s why I need to keep the northern castle safe until Brother and Ed return.”
When his gaze shifted toward the direction of the imperial capital, the little dragon suddenly leaped off his head and let out a small burst of fire, “Kyaaaah!”
Though it was no larger than a candle flame, Ronen quickly raised his hands in alarm.
“You’ll burn the curtains if you’re not careful!”
Scolding the dragon cradled in his hands, he inspected the windowsill to ensure no sparks had landed.
As he lifted his head, the sun fully emerged from the clouds, bathing the window in radiant light.
With his hand resting on the windowpane, Ronen smiled brightly.
“I hope the skies are this clear in the capital, too.”
By the time the banquet drew near, the rain had stopped, and the skies had cleared.
Returning from his audience with the Emperor, the Grand Duke stepped out of the annex with Ed, who glanced down at the muddy ground beneath their feet.
Though the rain had ended, the earth remained a mess of scattered mud and puddles.
“This way, Your Grace,” said the deputy chamberlain, pointing to one of three entrances leading into the glass-dome banquet hall.
As the Grand Duke approached, the nobles gathered nearby began to murmur, their eyes following his every move.
“I don’t understand why they suddenly decided to hold a banquet. The weather’s been dreadful.”
“Exactly. I spent all this effort preparing my attire, only for my shoes to be ruined in this mud.”
“What are you all complaining about? His Majesty called for the Grand Duchess to ensure the Empire’s stability, didn’t he?”
The murmurs quieted as the Grand Duke neared, though the curiosity in their gazes remained unabated.
At the first entrance, a guard extended a bracelet toward the Grand Duke.
“This is to manage the guests inside. Please wear it on your wrist.”
“I understand.”
The bracelet, made of metal and faintly glowing as if enchanted, adjusted itself snugly around the Grand Duke and Ed’s wrists once they put it on.
Its metallic sheen made it resemble a restraint more than an ornament.
Inside the banquet hall, the floor was slightly muddied from the nobles’ comings and goings.
Servants bustled about, trying to clean the mess, but the constant movement rendered their efforts futile.
The sight reminded Ed of his days at the Count of Herins’ estate.
Shaking off the distant memory, he shifted his gaze to a clean red carpet amidst the soiled floors—a path reserved for the Emperor alone.
The nobles avoided the carpet, afraid to dirty it, and stood a respectful distance away.
Following the deputy chamberlain toward the dais, Ed tilted his head back.
Through the glass ceiling, he could see the heavy clouds that hadn’t fully cleared, casting a somber mood.
“His Majesty the Emperor and Her Majesty the Empress are entering!”
A loud voice echoed, and the gathered nobles quickly arranged themselves, bowing in respect.
The central doors creaked open, and the Emperor strode down the red carpet with unyielding confidence.
Every step he took left a dark trail of mud behind, forming a black path that stretched across the hall.
To Ed’s eyes, it resembled blood seeping from an open wound, painting a vivid reminder of the Emperor’s unrelenting ambition.
* * *
