* * *
Seeing that Eren made no reply or reaction despite her comment, the Empress let out a hearty laugh.
“But he does have an excellent eye. That’s why. He instinctively recognized your value to Trovien.”
“Ah…”
“And as you know, he’s completely incapable of subtlety. If he offended you, allow me to apologize on his behalf. Please don’t hold it against him.”
“No, rather, I’m the one who owes Your Majesty a great debt.”
“Hahaha! Good, then remember that well and tell His Majesty later—give him something very nice. Opportunities like this don’t come often.”
Her pleasant laughter stopped, and the soft clink of a teacup settling on the table followed.
When Eren looked up, the smile that had been on the Empress’s face had completely vanished.
“Now, that’s all as the Empress. From here on, I’m speaking as someone from House Fridit. So answer me properly.”
Before Eren could even process what that meant, the questions began.
They weren’t the kind a royal would normally ask—they were personal, bordering on casual interrogation.
“How old are you this year?”
“T-Twenty.”
“Engaged? Are you?”
“Not yet…”
“You must’ve been drafted into war the moment you came of age. Then, do you have anyone you love?”
“…Pardon?”
“Judging from your expression, I’d say luckily not. Do you perhaps have ambitions for a title?”
‘Who am I, and where is this…’
After being bombarded with what felt like dozens of questions, Eren’s eyes had lost focus. The interrogation didn’t stop until he had confessed everything—from minor habits to his ideal type.
Under normal circumstances, he’d have scoffed and shot a glare at anyone who dared pry so deeply. But he couldn’t do that with the Empress. Not because she was the Empress of Trovien—
‘…She’s just too much like His Excellency.’
That mesmerizing beauty alone could trap someone in their seat with a single glance.
Now that he thought about it, Melody—still a young lady—seemed the same.
Though her beauty hadn’t fully bloomed yet, once she came of age, she would undoubtedly be as striking as Ashard.
Eren grumbled inwardly while admiring the looks that ran through the Fridit family.
If they kept using their beauty as a weapon like this, how was someone like him, who judged people by their looks, supposed to survive?
“Perhaps I was too personal on our first meeting.”
Eren gave her a strained smile, embarrassed by the look she gave after saying that—despite having asked everything already.
But he couldn’t blame anyone.
It was he who had been charmed by that Ashard-like face and answered every single question.
“I’m not certain of anything yet. But I thought you might need this.”
The Empress reached behind the sofa and took something from a desk drawer, then placed it gently in front of Eren.
…Huh?
Eren blinked in confusion at the object on the table. Was he seeing it wrong? He rubbed his eyes.
A small, round, violet-colored orb.
He wasn’t shocked because he didn’t know what it was—he was shocked because he knew exactly what it was.
There was no way he wouldn’t know.
It had shown up often, very often, in the original 19+ rated BL tragedy novel.
“Why are you giving me this…”
He pretended not to know and asked, but the Empress simply pushed it closer toward him, unfazed.
She insisted it might come in handy; he, on the other hand, felt he had no reason to accept it.
A strange standoff formed between them—but the outcome was already clear.
“Just keep it. I’m not saying you have to use it right away.”
“Still…”
“Melody may be here to secure the succession, but there still should be a child, don’t you think?”
A child…
Eren’s face turned bright red.
Her blunt words left him speechless, and all he could do was flail his hands in the air.
What the Empress had handed over was a magical potion made from the Rotellan flower.
In a world where fantasy was reality, it wasn’t so strange for a man to be able to get pregnant.
Especially not in a 19+ rated BL novel.
And true to that setting, the characters in the novel treated it as completely normal.
Just like the Empress in front of him.
“Consider it a gift, from me to you and my younger brother.”
“…”
“I’ve taken it myself, so I can assure you it works.”
When Eren still showed no sign of taking it, the Empress directly placed it in his hand.
And since it had been physically handed over, he couldn’t just reject it.
Now holding it, eyes trembling, unsure what to do, Eren could feel his face and neck—flushed red earlier—refusing to cool down anytime soon.
The Empress let out a faint laugh at the charming innocence he showed over something as simple as a Rotellan potion.
‘Where did he find such an adorable thing?’
For the first time, she found herself feeling almost appreciative of the Emperor, who had ordered Ashard to bring Eren to the palace.
‘Twenty years old…’
A young age, to be sure, but hardly a flaw.
He wasn’t a minor, after all, and had already undergone his coming-of-age ceremony.
Besides, in Trovien, a seven-year age gap wasn’t considered all that unusual.
Unlike the satisfied expression on the Empress’s face, Eren’s mind was full of chaos.
These days, whenever he saw Ashard’s face, his eyes involuntarily drifted to his lips—it was driving him mad.
And now, the potion the Empress had given him only made his thoughts more unruly.
“W-We’re not even like that yet…!”
It was a relationship that defied easy description.
Though they lived in the same mansion, conversations between them were often awkward and stilted.
Too intimate to be mere business partners, yet too distant for anything clearly defined—like a pearl dropped in the middle of sand, obvious and unignorable, even if unnamed.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. Let’s head back to the mansion—why is your face so red? Are you feeling feverish?”
“N-No, it’s nothing!”
Startled by Ashard’s sudden appearance, Eren quickly stuffed what he was holding into the inner pocket of his jacket.
It was just as the sunlight began pouring down onto the beach.
The small item in his hand, briefly catching the light, had begun to shimmer dazzlingly.
The mansion was quiet.
Too quiet, even for a duke’s estate.
Few guests came and went, and even the servants, as if trained for it, made not a sound.
Eren’s only real duty in the mansion was tutoring Princess Melody twice a week.
Other than that, there wasn’t much for him to do.
Or more accurately, there wasn’t much he could do.
Back in Epentel, he had been the head of a family and buried in duties.
Now, the peaceful daily life here felt oddly out of place.
Unlike Eren, who now lived a relatively relaxed life, Ashard—recently returned from the war—had his hands full with work.
He often stayed holed up in his study all day, to the point that Eren hardly saw his face.
The only thing left for Eren to do was wander the mansion.
* * *
