* * *

‘I miss him.’

Seeing someone who could have everything they wanted holding back just to avoid upsetting me… I found that endearing.

It wasn’t the grand, imposing figure of some distant, powerful ruler, but rather the image of an ordinary 24-year-old college student, nervously trying not to be disliked by the person they cared for.

When I first arrived in Velon, Hernan had tried to act overly smooth and confident—a poor misjudgment on his part.

I wasn’t drawn to his meticulousness; I was swayed by his clumsy, age-appropriate awkwardness.

‘My tastes are… something else.’

But what could I do?

Seeing him flustered with that face of his made it impossible not to be affected.

As peculiar as Hernan was, I had to admit I was just as strange.

‘It’s just that I’m too much of a busybody.’

This much was certain.

I’d give it another month to settle things here, and once my father recovered, I’d head back.

There was no shortage of matters to investigate on that side either.

Mentally organizing my schedule, I went to bed earlier than usual.

Reviewing documents under the dim lamplight until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore, I finally drifted off.

---

Meanwhile, in a grand mansion near the capital, a middle-aged woman let out a quiet sigh as she clutched a letter.

“So, it has come to this.”

Despite the widespread adoption of telecommunication devices in recent years, the Empire’s high-ranking nobles still preferred sending letters by courier.

The reason was simple: they couldn’t trust modern devices, which could theoretically be intercepted.

As people dealing with sensitive information, they valued discretion above all else.

Couriers, on the other hand, could always be silenced if needed, erasing any trace of their existence.

The woman tore the handwritten letter into pieces and threw it into the fireplace.

The specially treated paper quickly turned to ash in the flames.

“What will you do now?”

A young man sitting across from her in the office asked in a somber tone.

“I need to think carefully. What advice would be most fitting for me to give as an elder…”

The woman pressed her fingers to her temple, sighing deeply, while the young man replied bluntly.

“You know which path is safer, don’t you?”

The woman exhaled slowly.

“I do. But he’s unlikely to comply willingly….”

“It’s the elder’s duty to guide him onto the proper path, even if it’s not easy.”

She closed her eyes, remaining silent.

These young ones—they were exhausting.

Still, as an adult, one had to feign ignorance of their transparent motives at times.

Though she wasn’t overly concerned about the young man in front of her, the workaholic mentioned in the letter troubled her deeply.

“I’ll think on it a bit longer. It’s late; you should rest.”

The suggestion, while polite, carried an unmistakable weight of authority.

The young man had no choice but to comply.

“Understood, Duchess Velesa.”

The man’s reluctant steps were heavy as he left.

From the start, that backwater upstart had not a single redeeming quality from head to toe.

It had been infuriating to see him cast ‘that person’—who had lived their whole life in mild climates—into the unforgiving winter wilderness.

Even more frustrating was the excuse of establishing a branch office, which kept that person tethered to him for so long.

If money was the issue, there were plenty of nobles in Essamo, including himself, who could have easily borne the cost.

So why had no one tried before?

Perhaps it was because the estates’ tax revenues were already abundant, making such business ventures unnecessary.

But more importantly, no one dared monopolize that person in such a manner.

To overburden someone already drowning in work was unthinkable for anyone who truly cared. It was a taboo—a line one could not cross.

A pale, insolent man from the frozen tundra had no right to impose on that person in such a way.

The rare mineral-rich snowfields of Velon were insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

The man couldn’t tolerate the likes of Hernan Velon Yudenet—or whatever his name was—not only for daring to pile more work onto that person but also for putting them at risk of falling out of the emperor’s favor.

“He should just hurry up and marry the princess and become part of the imperial family.”

If the emperor had made such a generous offer, the only acceptable response was immediate gratitude.

But no—he had dared to go against the emperor’s wishes, and for what?

The man grumbled internally all the way out of the duchess’s residence.

But his frustration was not entirely misplaced; Duchess Velesa herself was grappling with the letter he had delivered just moments ago.

Ernan Velon Yudenet had refused the emperor’s marriage proposal.

That the emperor had marked him as the perfect match for his cherished youngest daughter was no secret to anyone who attended Princess Evelyn’s birthday ball.

For any noble, the emperor’s proposal was never truly a suggestion—it was a command veiled as an offer, especially when it involved his beloved daughter.

No ordinary person would dare refuse, nor could they.

The emperor wielded the highest power in the empire.

While the senate and the emperor balanced each other to some extent, the emperor was a singular authority, whereas the senate was a collective body.

The emperor might not dismantle the senate, but destroying a single noble house was a trivial matter for him.

Besides, who would reject the prospect of becoming part of the imperial family?

Velon had recently begun to open its previously sealed borders, signaling an intent to strengthen ties with the empire.

Building relations with the emperor, rather than opposing him, was a far more pragmatic and advantageous move.

“Which is why the emperor never expected him to decline.”

But the unexpected had happened.

Since the emperor began calling Hernan Velon Yudenet to the palace frequently to honor his efforts in safeguarding the northern borders, the marriage proposal had seemed a mere formality, a matter of timing.

Naturally, everyone assumed the grand duke himself would have seen this coming.

The grand duke, whose beauty alone could captivate the entire empire, had an expression so stoic and inscrutable that no one could guess his thoughts.

Yet, in front of the emperor’s confidants, he had outright refused the proposal.

And as if to ensure there would be no room for compromise, he had even added, “I have someone in my heart.”

This part alone could have been understood, albeit with some shock—who would dare say such a thing before the emperor?

But what came next was the real problem.

Noble marriages were rarely love matches.

It didn’t matter if he had someone in his heart—or even several people.

As long as a legitimate heir was produced and the marriage appeared functional to the public, any indiscretions would be tacitly overlooked.

Even the emperor’s son-in-law would be no exception.

Yet the grand duke had outright refused to marry the princess, despite assurances that even a second wife would be permitted under imperial law.

He had left no room for negotiation, as if the very idea was an affront.

When asked if he intended to marry anyone else, his answer was a definitive “No.”

His firm stance baffled all the nobles.

The emperor was furious, but the grand duke had nonchalantly left the palace.

While only a select few noble families close to the imperial court knew of the incident, it was only a matter of time before rumors spread.

And once they did, they would not end as simple gossip.

People loved scandal.

The narrative wouldn’t just be that the grand duke didn’t want to marry—the whispers would shift to questioning what flaws the princess must have for him to reject her so resolutely.

Even if this wasn’t his intention, the damage was already done.

The emperor now had no choice but to fabricate a plausible reason for withdrawing his support for the grand duke.

Perhaps he would expose some grave flaw, creating an excuse that painted the grand duke as unfit.

But doing so would inevitably implicate his closest ally, Viscount Everdeen, who had been instrumental in bringing the grand duke into high society.

* * *