ISTTIOMB 67

#67. Is the Emperor Really a Playboy?

The cozy scent of ink and paper tickled the tip of my nose.

My face flushed red without warning.

I glanced at Douglas again.

Even in his shabby clothes, his refined beauty couldn’t be hidden.

His pink hair, fluttering in the wind, looked sweeter than cotton candy.

“I want to touch it once. It looks so soft…”

The moment the thought crossed my mind, I froze.

Did I just think I wanted to touch a man?

Had Elisabeth’s flirtatious nature from the original story somehow rubbed off on me?

“What kind of shameless thought is that, for a lady from the Land of Etiquette?”

To snap myself out of it, I slapped my own cheek.

Startled, Douglas looked at me with concern.

“Are you feeling unwell, Lady Elisabeth?”

“I was just… chasing away an evil spirit.”

“An evil spirit?”

Yes — a filthy, lecherous one.

I swallowed the words and forced an awkward smile.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry.”

“Please don’t push yourself. Our journey has only just begun.”

“Thank you, Sir Douglas.”

“That hat suits you well. You look beautiful, even in men’s clothes.”

Douglas lowered his eyes shyly, as if realizing such compliments might be rude.

“I know a boy who also has a hunting cap.”

“You mean His Highness the Crown Prince?”

“He calls that old, tattered hat his treasure. I only saw him wear it once, though.”

I could vividly picture Franz crawling out from under a holly bush.

He had such a nasty way of speaking.

If he were my little brother, I’d have scolded him until he cried.

He’s probably tormenting Nysa and Bill right about now.

It hadn’t been long since we parted, yet it already felt like ages ago.

A wave of longing rose up in my throat — and at the end of it always stood Nikolai.

I could still feel his large hands around my waist, and those dizzyingly hot lips.

Sometimes, I could almost swear I still felt his touch on my skin.

“Douglas is handsome too, but… my type is still Nikolai. Loyalty is what matters for women, right? Even love is a form of loyalty.”

Clenching my fists, I muttered to myself. Douglas looked at me curiously.

“Why do you think His Highness never wears that hat?”

“Because the canary room has a new owner now. I think it was something that held memories of his mother.”

“Do you know much about His Highness’s mother?”

Laila.

Nikolai’s first love.

The woman who crossed the river of no return, leaving behind a young Franz.

I’d never met her — yet I could never forget her.

And neither, I knew, could Nikolai.

“All I know is her name, Laila, and that she passed away several years ago. She was a very secretive person.”

“My grandfather once worked in the palace during that time,” Douglas said quietly. “He used to mention her.”

“What did he say?”

“That he and the Chief Healer, Sir Jeffrey, were caring for a woman of breathtaking beauty — but she was terribly lonely.”

My heart skipped a beat.

I never thought I’d hear about Laila from Douglas.

“What else did he say?”

“He never learned her name or rank. But since my grandfather personally attended her, he assumed she must have been of noble birth.”

“Was she ill?”

“He said it pained him not knowing what disease she suffered from. He began studying herbs to find a cure for her.”

“I see…”

“She was a devout follower of Morasincia, so she often visited the temple. Perhaps she was seeking a cure there as well.”

For a moment, the goddess’s deep eyes flashed through my mind.

If Douglas’s grandfather had known about sacred relics…
Laila might still be alive.

“Did he simply not know about divine relics? Or am I the only one able to use them? Why would the goddess choose me?”

An unsolved riddle.

Perhaps it had to do with the title I bore — The Righteous Dead.

“Your grandfather must have been as kind as you, Sir Douglas.”

“He wanted me to become a pharmacist like you. But I was more suited to writing.”

“I’m sure he was proud when Susan followed in his footsteps.”

“Yes… I imagine both my late parents were, too.”

Douglas’s gaze softened with sadness. He must have been thinking about Susan, whom he’d left behind.

“Don’t worry about her. His Highness will protect her.”

“His Highness?”

“There’s a reason for that.”

Douglas looked puzzled.

Franz, gazing fondly at Susan’s back.
And Susan, treating Franz like a cute child.

“Thanks to those two deer-like siblings, the Nettleton family’s status has soared. If Susan becomes the Crown Princess, Franz’s position will be secure. The Nettletons will regain their place among the five great noble houses. A boy groom and a beautiful bride — I’d love to see that.”

If the power of artists like Owen and young nobles united behind them…
If Boritz developed new famine-resistant crops…

Then Franz and Susan might truly become an unshakable Crown Prince and Princess.

Of course, I never intended to push them into a political marriage.

If Franz had inherited even a shred of Nikolai’s womanizing nature…
Susan would end up in tears. And that, I would never allow.

“The late emperor had no empress, correct?”

“Only the current emperor’s mother, Empress Brigitte, and the deposed Lady Penelope.”

“So he was a one-woman man. I hope Franz takes after his grandfather, not his father.”

I pouted unconsciously.

“His father loved only one woman. Why is the son like that? Should’ve learned from his dad… tsk.”

“Why did His Majesty take so many consorts, anyway?”

“Because he likes women, obviously! He’s known as the greatest Casanova in the Empire!”

Not that I, once infamous as a femme fatale, had any right to talk.

“But he doesn’t seem like someone who indulges in debauchery.”

“You just don’t know him well enough, Douglas.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I first saw him at the Camellia Party, he was tangled up with two women! It was so embarrassing I could’ve fainted!”

Just remembering it made my face burn.

Fanning myself did nothing to help — and not only because of the memory of that scorching first kiss.

“That wasn’t all. He suddenly left, saying he had urgent business — then returned with a new consort! On horseback, no less!”

A surge of heat flared again — but this time, not the pleasant kind.

Even so, I wanted to believe the sweet words he’d whispered — that I was different from all the other consorts.

That night, I’d even decided to tell Nikolai everything.
Because I truly believed he’d trust me.

“Was that all?”

“What, do you need more?”

“If he truly loves women so much, why does he never visit his concubines?”

Now that he mentioned it, Nysa and I had had a similar conversation once.

“Empress Rose always complained. She thought being empress meant she could admire His Majesty’s looks every day — but she barely even saw him.”
“Maybe she wasn’t his type.”
“He never visited the other consorts either. The noble ones kept quiet for appearance’s sake, but the others? Furious. Said the palace was more like a prison than a harem.”
“Prison?”
“They were trapped! They couldn’t return home after marrying the Emperor.”
“Even Susan worried. Except for noble ladies, the others had to handle food and clothing on their own.”
“They were called consorts, but lived like servants in a dormitory. Why keep them locked up if he wasn’t even going to see them?”

Back then, I thought it was just Nikolai’s fickleness — that he’d simply lost interest while chasing a new woman.

But the more I thought about that conversation, the more it felt like maybe those sweet words hadn’t been lies.

“You’re right, Douglas. It’s strange. His Majesty was always buried in work.”

“I thought so too. He was constantly busy.”

“If he really craved women, wouldn’t it be easier to just find a fling? Why go through all that trouble?”

“Exactly. Even if the consorts provided for themselves, maintaining the harem must’ve been expensive.”

Douglas had a point. I’d never questioned it before — just accepted that he was a simple womanizer.

“He even endured being called a philanderer obsessed with women.”

“Then… maybe there was a reason he had to play that role?”

“I don’t know for sure.”

Could it be that he had to wear the mask of a playboy?
For what reason? What could he gain from it?

It sounded absurd, yet a fragile hope stirred inside me.

“The consorts probably never even saw Nikolai. He was always in the canary room.”

I used to think he just couldn’t settle down after losing his first love — that drifting from woman to woman was his way of coping.

That I, too, was just another breeze passing by.

But what if it had all been a perfectly crafted act?

Longing bloomed like a fever in my chest.

I wanted to see Nikolai — desperately.
I wanted to return to the palace right now.

“What is Your Majesty’s truth? Is there really something you’re hiding?”

But I swallowed the question.

I couldn’t go back yet.
And I couldn’t expose Nikolai’s secret — not until I understood his plan.

Meanwhile…

Claudia donned her uniform — black fabric embroidered with silver thread.

On her arm gleamed the wolf insignia of the Imperial Guard.

The only organization permitted to carry live steel within the palace.

Claudia had become not only the Emperor’s personal protector but also the Commander of the Imperial Knights — the pride of the Empire itself.

Over thirty nervous guards stood lined up on the training grounds, not a row out of place.

Claudia’s cold voice rang out.

“From today onward, the Imperial Guard is reborn. Anyone who fails to be reborn… will be cut down.”

“Yes, Commander!”

Their shouts rang like thunder.

In just four days, half of the guard had been dismissed.
Half of the remaining men were in prison.
Many had fled on their own.
And yes — some had died.

“Confess now,” Claudia said coldly. “Who took bribes? Who conspired with outsiders?”

“No one, Commander!”

“Some of you even sneaked into the harem to touch His Majesty’s women.”

“…!”

“You failed to stop your comrades’ corruption and sloth. That alone is reason enough to lose your heads.”

“Forgive us, Commander!”

“Don’t think you’re safe just because you’re still here. I’ll make sure you regret it.”

A cruel smile curved on Claudia’s lips.

The knights trembled, remembering the sight of a fleeing comrade cut down by her sword.

“Training begins now. Anyone who slacks off will spar with me — using live blades. Understood?”

“Yes, Commander!”

Was it fear of losing their heads — or the desperate desire to be reborn?