Chapter 09
Duke Ikart wiped his eyes as he held the hand of his youngest daughter, whom he loved as if she were priceless.
A precious girl who never got so much as a drop of water on her hands and always wore gloves for fear of damaging those delicate hands. Thanks to the coronation there had been a little more time, so he was able to postpone the date a bit, but now she truly had to enter the palace.
“Yulia… if that woman ever gives you trouble, tell your father at once.”
“Yes, Father.”
“No matter what it takes, I’ll get you out of there. Just hang on. Do you understand me, my dear?”
“Don’t worry, Father.”
The girl with golden hair—who took after Duke Ikart—closed her eyes briefly in a gentle smile.
Duke Ikart clenched his teeth, as if thinking his daughter was pretending to be fine. Yulia patted her father’s shoulder, reassuring him with a brave smile—saying she was alright and that nothing would happen. Yet there was no light in her green eyes.
“Poor young lady…”
“Poor, poor young lady…”
One by one, the servants gathered to see them off began to cry. Perhaps moved by sympathy for the duke, they all looked at Yulia with concerned faces.
Yulia smiled kindly and tried to soothe them. The tearful farewell was short—she boarded the carriage first and then they had to go. Sounds of sobbing drifted away outside the carriage, but once the door shut, Yulia’s expression vanished.
“…Depart.”
Her face showed no emotion, but her voice was very gentle. The carriage began to roll.
The distance from House Ikart to the imperial palace wasn’t far. When the carriage stopped and the door opened, Tesha and Kasella came out to meet her.
“Welcome, noble maiden.”
“…Countess Mardia’s wife, Lady Tesha.”
“Please come inside. Her Majesty the Empress is waiting.”
Yulia followed the two women who guided her. She walked with the impeccable bearing expected of a daughter born into the noble Ikart house.
Tesha watched her with worried eyes—worry born of seeing how carefully the aristocratic girls of the Ikart family had been raised. Yulia was the daughter of the Ikart duke who had led the effort to depose Kasielope. To the Empress, she could only be considered an enemy.
Of course, Tesha knew that Kasielope would not personally torment Yulia; she had only summoned her to warn Duke Ikart. But that didn’t mean Tesha wasn’t worried.
Yulia, as the Ikart duke’s daughter, would naturally feel uneasy around the woman who had been deposed because of her father. That was only to be expected.
“Her Majesty won’t persecute the noble maiden, but it will be hard for her to endure,” Tesha said, as if certain Yulia already knew why. Yulia nodded slightly at Tesha’s look. The young girl, delicate as a lily, made Tesha sigh softly.
She was 24 years old and had watched Kasielope up close for that long. She had seen how pampered daughters of noble houses could be. Unless someone had long survived the battlefield called society, a debutante of Yulia’s age and generation was as fragile and thin as a twig.
‘Perhaps Her Majesty will handle it herself. I’m being foolish to worry,’ Tesha blamed herself and opened the door to Kasielope’s chamber. Red-haired Kasielope set down the teacup she had been holding and looked at Yulia with a small smile.
“House Ikart’s third daughter, Yulia Ikart, pays respects to Her Majesty.”
Normally one would say “the Moon of the Clemens Empire” when addressing the Empress, but Yulia left that out and bowed to Kasielope.
‘My worries were unnecessary.’
Tesha and Countess Mardia exchanged looks as if thinking the same thing.
“Tesha, Countess Mardia. You may go.”
They both bowed to Kasielope and went back out through the door they had entered.
Inside the room it was only Kasielope and Yulia. Kasielope poured tea into the cup set opposite her and let out a short, amused laugh.
“You’ve calmed down a lot, Yulia. Seeing the Countess and your wetnurse worrying about you…”
“Her Majesty Kasielope Clemens of the Clemens Empire,” Yulia said, lowering one knee in a respectful bow. Though she looked like a well-bred noblewoman, there was a general’s spirit in her posture.
“Isn’t that unnecessary now?”
“My loyalty is to only one liege.”
Yulia Ikart—the cherished youngest daughter of Duke Ikart who would one day be welcomed as a flower of the social season—presented that outward image to the public.
“You should have ordered me to stay by your side to the end.”
‘Nyx,’ the elite unit Kasielope formed. Yulia Ikart was the leader of Nyx—one of the empire’s three swordmasters selected by Kasielope herself.
Of course, almost no one knew she was a swordmaster. Only Kasielope and the other members of Nyx, who had long ago recognized her talent, were aware.
“You should not have ordered me not to intervene.”
Kasielope smiled softly and asked, “Then would you have severed your father’s head with your own hands?”
“If you had given such an order, I would have.”
Yulia’s green eyes were steady and unshaken. Kasielope found the sight pleasing.
If Duke Ikart ever found out his beloved youngest daughter said such things in Kasielope’s presence, how would he react? Kasielope was genuinely curious.
“…No one was hurt in the end.”
If they had drawn swords, they would have been dealt with. But of course they never would have drawn their blades.
Had Yulia been sent in front as a counter, the damage would have been significant.
“Your Majesty… you are too soft.”
If the sovereign of a foreign land had been in that situation, they would have done whatever was necessary to keep the throne. But Kasielope had stepped down from the throne even while watching those who raised blades against her. She had seen the knights trembling as if on the verge of tears, making it clear with their whole bodies that they were not acting of their own will—and in that situation, Kasielope could not raise her sword against them.
What would be the point of a throne soaked in blood if it meant massacring innocent people to stay upon it?
Kasielope wanted to preserve the empire even if it meant such a thing. Even if some would call it a delusion that she renounced the throne for such a reason, she didn’t care.
“That’s quite generous of you, Yulia. To say such a thing to me.”
“Perhaps it’s because I was raised by a greedy, foolish father.”
“Oh my. You’re sulking properly.”
Duke Ikart had loved Yulia dearly, but she hated her father. He cared for her not out of affection but because she was a ‘top-quality commodity’ who could bring him profit. That Yulia had said she resembled her father meant she truly believed he was despicable.
She had meant that someone should have opposed him with sword in hand.
“Besides, now I can keep you by my side.”
“…”
“I brought you out of that house, didn’t I? Think of it as a favor.”
“If it is an imperial command…”
Yulia did not agree with Kasielope’s thinking.
She would rather have lived forever in that terrible household than see her sovereign step down as she had. Unless it was an order, she would not change her mind. Seeing that stubbornness, Kasielope softly stroked Yulia’s head.
“It’s not an order. It’s a request.”
“…”
The rigid expression softened a little. Kasielope restrained a smile and handed her a gift she had prepared for Yulia.
Because she wielded a sword, Yulia’s hands were callused and rough. She always wore gloves to hide them.
“Accept this.”
“…My liege.”
“If possible, I would like you to accept my request as well.”
Her life had always been ignored and overridden—she had even been forced into choice about tiny things like food and clothing. She had longed to hold a sword but had been dismissed before she could speak. The person who had first given her a choice was Kasielope Clemens, the ruler of this land.
She couldn’t refuse.
Yulia accepted the gloves Kasielope offered and placed her right hand on her left shoulder.
“From now on, Yulia, leader of Nyx, will abandon House Ikart and follow her liege.”
