Side Story: Chapter 1
“Then, with that, we will conclude today’s meeting.”
At the minister of state’s words, all the ministers sitting in the grand conference room bowed their heads toward Cloys, who occupied the highest seat.
On any ordinary day, Cloys would have acknowledged their greetings and probably called aside those wishing to discuss the details of the meeting further.
But not today.
“Good work. That will be all.”
Cloys rose from his seat faster than anyone else, barely acknowledging the ministers’ salutations, and exited the conference room.
In the past, everyone would have wondered what was troubling him.
But now, everyone knew.
They knew why Cloys hurriedly left the meeting room.
And they knew where he was heading.
“Still, His Majesty endured quite a long time today.”
“Indeed. From morning until now, he’s been in the meeting room the entire time. Last month, he couldn’t hold back midway and had to excuse himself to see Princess Ivbien, didn’t he?”
Ivbien.
At the mention of her name, the ministers’ faces brightened with smiles.
On a late autumn day, the empire had celebrated a great occasion.
The emperor’s daughter, and rightful heir, Princess Ivbien, had returned.
Of course, before this, there had been incidents like the false claim that Ivbien was actually the daughter of the former emperor, or attempts to kidnap both of them—but in the end, the real Ivbien had safely returned to her father’s side.
The ministers were overjoyed.
The emperor, who deeply mourned the late empress, would never take another consort.
And so he hadn’t considered adopting another heir.
Particularly, Arsel Caillen of the Duke Caillen family and Ruska Lagselv of the Marquis Lagselv family—who had spent much time with the emperor—had been the most likely candidates.
But the ministers were not pleased with the two boys.
It wasn’t a matter of capability.
The empire had just stabilized.
They feared that bringing in a child from another family as heir could create complications at the time of succession.
But with Princess Ivbien’s return, all such concerns vanished.
Even before she knew her own identity, she had entered the academy for gifted children based on her abilities.
At the age of seven.
Second place.
Thus, no one dared question Princess Ivbien’s capabilities.
Initially, however, when she returned, there were those who feigned concern, doubting whether a princess raised among commoners could adapt properly.
Since ascending the throne, the emperor had always respected imperial law and tolerated occasional opposition from ministers.
So they assumed he would overlook such comments this time as well.
But they were wrong.
“How dare you presume to speak of the princess’s abilities.”
Cloys never let anything related to Ivbien pass without notice.
Before the new year, those who opposed them lost their positions in the palace.
Yet no one protested.
They quickly realized that even their titles could be stripped away if they resisted.
Witnessing Cloys dealing with them mercilessly, the ministers understood:
The emperor would eliminate anyone who posed harm to the princess.
This time, it was their positions that were taken—but if they failed to reflect on their actions and spoke carelessly again, next time it would be their very lives.
After leaving the conference room, Cloys asked the chief attendant waiting outside:
“Ivbien?”
The attendant, as if expecting this question, answered immediately.
“She is at the museum.”
“Again there, huh.”
Cloys seemed to anticipate the answer. Donning the coat the attendant handed him, he briskly walked forward.
Sir Rommel followed closely behind.
Outside, under the clear sky, a cold wind blew.
The frigid air, visible with his own breath, stiffened Cloys’s expression.
“The museum must be cold.”
Rommel, looking slightly apprehensive, replied:
“Dean Seraphina installed new warming stones in the museum just last week.”
“Still… it’s this cold outside… I hope Ivbien doesn’t catch a cold.”
Seeing Cloys genuinely worried, Rommel gave up speaking further.
When it came to Princess Ivbien, Cloys seemed to fret over everything in the world.
It was almost unimaginable how he had managed seven years without her.
Upon arriving at the museum, Hilde, guarding the entrance, bowed in greeting.
“Ivbien?”
“She’s in her usual place.”
With that, Cloys entered the museum without asking further.
Inside, unlike outside, the air was warm.
The staff, bowing to him, wore light clothing, unlike the palace staff.
Cloys acknowledged their greetings briefly and headed further inside.
Soon, they arrived at a room marked “Portrait Room.”
Cloys gazed at the center of the wall.
Where once the space had been empty, now hung a completed portrait of the emperor—the place reserved for the current emperor’s image.
He recalled his daughter pouting when the portrait wasn’t there yet, delaying recognition, and smiled.
Moving further in, he came upon the room displaying portraits of the royal family.
And there she was—the one he sought.
“Ivbien.”
Calling to her, Ivbien, who had been sitting and viewing a painting, turned her head.
Upon seeing him, her round eyes curved with delight and she beamed.
“Dad!”
Ivbien, who had been seated, leapt up and ran to him, stretching out her arms.
Cloys, accustomed to this, lifted her into his arms and spun her around.
Perhaps the maids had dressed her. The hat attached to her coat had white rabbit ears fluttering.
Her face was flushed, and she seemed slightly sweaty from the warmth, yet she still wore the coat—clearly she liked it very much.
Cloys thought to himself that he would have to order several coats in the same design but in different colors.
Rabbit ears were cute, but other animal ears would be adorable too; he would have to make a set of all kinds.
“Sorry I’m late, the meeting ran long, didn’t it?”
“Mm, it’s fine. But at least you came to get me.”
At her words, Cloys, overcome with affection, lightly kissed her forehead.
Ivbien laughed with a ticklish squeal, loosening Cloys’s expression even more.
Although they had only been apart for a few hours, their reunion resembled that of people meeting after weeks.
Sir Aiden, standing nearby, raised his shoulders with a look that said, “Here we go again today.”
The doctors had said that it would take months just to stand and years of rehab to fully use his hands.
But after being appointed as Ivbien’s guard until she graduated from the gifted academy, Aiden’s recovery had been astonishingly fast.
Within a month, he could stand; within another month, he returned to the knights’ order.
Of course, moving as before was impossible.
“But I can stand by Her Highness’s side! And if necessary, I can physically block attacks! Where else would you find a shield like me?”
He clung to Commander Rommel, insisting he be allowed to serve as Ivbien’s guard.
Eventually, Rommel obtained Cloys’s permission, and Aiden could now protect Ivbien by her side.
“What were you doing?”
A question that needed no answer—the task Ivbien undertook here was obvious.
“Looking at Mom!”
Ivbien pointed to a large portrait on the wall.
The painting depicted a woman with flaming red hair and deep green eyes like a midsummer forest, holding a child.
It was a portrait of Lilian.
“Dad, look! Now my name is here too.”
Ivbien urged Cloys forward, pointing beside the painting.
The museum had now been fully prepared.
The portrait room was complete, with names written beside the paintings.
Cloys looked at the plaque beside the painting:
Empress Lilian Shell
Princess Ivbien Alden Shell Harkia
Even though Ivbien was depicted as a baby barely visible in her mother’s arms, having her name alongside her mother’s thrilled her.
Cloys smiled at the plaque and said to her,
“Wouldn’t it be better to hang this in your room?”
Ivbien shook her head.
“No, Dad, it’s such a pretty picture of Mom. I want others to see her too.”
Hearing the same answer as before, Cloys’s smile widened.
Ivbien loved this portrait.
She often came here just to look at it.
When it got colder, Cloys had offered to move the painting to her room, but she had refused again, giving the same answer.
“Such a generous child.”
Cloys found his daughter’s nature admirable and endearing.
“Alright, let’s head back. We need to consider Sir Aiden’s legs too.”
“I’m fine!”
Startled at being the subject of attention, Aiden shook his head vehemently.
Cloys and Ivbien both looked at him simultaneously:
“Don’t lie.”
“Sir Aiden is lying.”
Their expressions mirrored each other so perfectly that Aiden bowed his head, thinking:
How did I not notice this before? They look exactly the same.
“Anyway, you may leave now. I’ll take Ivbien back myself.”
Officially, she was called Ivbien, but in private with close ones, Cloys continued to call her Ivbie—a nickname given by her mother.
Ivbien wanted it that way too.
“Goodbye, Sir Aiden! I’ll go first. You finish up!”
Ivbien waved excitedly at Aiden, delighted to be going back with her dad.
Turning around, she said to Cloys:
“I want to walk.”
“I’ll carry you just to the front of the museum.”
“I’m not a baby…”
Pouting slightly, she still seemed to enjoy being carried, hugging his neck and smiling broadly.
She waved one last time to her mother’s portrait as they departed.
“Goodbye, Mom! I’ll come again!”
Then, as if remembering something, she asked Cloys:
“Dad… how did you meet Mom?”
