Chapter 25
Marcella unlocked the window latch and lifted the window. The summer night air was fresh.
The wind, brushing past the leaves, touched Marcella’s cheek. In the distance, palaces glittered brilliantly.
Bathed in the blessings of the twin gods of the sun and moon, the palaces shone beautifully.
Who could possibly live in a place like that? The answer came to her without much thought.
Marcella recalled Nell’s face, smiling faintly as he watched her by the pond. She had thought him a man who never smiled, yet he could smile naturally.
Leaning against the window, Marcella closed her eyes. The glitter of the distant palace, which had seemed like stars in the night sky, was no longer visible.
“The Emperor must live among the stars.”
The Emperor in that light, and I in this darkness.
Marcella slowly opened her eyes, closed the window, and returned to her bed.
She had given up the illusion that she could be someone who could protect everyone at the age of ten.
At first, she had been angry at her own helplessness and fallen into despair, but not anymore. There was no time to brood over being unable to accomplish anything. After all, the time allotted to an Inferior was short.
“Your Majesty.”
When Duke Martinez called for Nell, Nell lifted his head from the notebook where he had been writing.
“Seeing Your Majesty’s face, I feel even more overwhelmed than I already did.”
Despite having shown such a pitiful state to the young lady and barely holding her in check, he remained calm.
“What do you mean?”
“Your Majesty’s failed love.”
“Duke Martinez, the Emperor’s love hasn’t failed yet.”
Martinez chuckled.
“First of all, the proposal has failed.”
“Marcella and I agreed not to propose any further.”
“That’s fortunate, then.”
“Is that fortunate?”
“Do you know what irony is, Your Majesty?”
“Ah, so you were being sarcastic.”
Nell, realizing this, neither scolded Martinez nor felt offended. He merely nodded and returned his attention to his notebook.
He had been mocked, yet realized it and still remained unaffected. Martinez did not like this fact.
He had no intention of arguing against Nell’s strength. Perhaps it was better for a human with such power to remain somewhat indifferent rather than easily angered. Even so, Martinez found it displeasing.
To call him an emotionless magical weapon, even jokingly, was no joke at all.
“Although proposals are forbidden, Your Majesty is not forbidden from confessing, right?”
Duke Martinez wanted to see Nell fall into a whirlwind of emotion at least once.
He asked sarcastically, but Nell merely blinked and looked at him calmly.
“Yes. She agreed that if Marcella confessed one hundred times, it should be considered genuine, not playful.”
“…One hundred times?”
“Yes. Not that it had to be a proposal, but she would regard it as sincere.”
Martinez’s brow furrowed.
She then glanced at Arthur Digory. Arthur, looking startled, met Nell’s gaze, and upon noticing Martinez’s attention, smiled as if nothing had happened.
“What is this about, Arthur Digory?”
“It means Your Majesty will give one hundred passionate confessions to Lady Marcella.”
Of course, it didn’t mean she would accept every confession, just that it would be regarded as sincere.
“Having one hundred confessions? That young lady is no ordinary person.”
Martinez laughed in disbelief.
“So how will Your Majesty confess?”
Judging from the bold claim of one hundred confessions, Martinez assumed some grand plan was afoot.
He waited for Nell to speak, but Nell tilted his head silently.
“Why the bewildered look?”
“How to confess, I mean?”
“Yes. What, how… the atmosphere, the situation… ah.”
Clearly, he hadn’t thought about it. Martinez gave a hollow laugh seeing Nell’s blank expression.
“Someone who has never done such things before, how could they manage it smoothly? A confession, if truly sincere, is always difficult.”
Arthur supported Nell, and Martinez let out a small laugh.
“It’s funny hearing you speak as if you have confessed sincerely to someone, Arthur Digory.”
“You sometimes say I’m a bloodless, tearless man… and you’re right. I have no blood, no tears.”
Arthur laughed heartily and clapped his hands.
Martinez narrowed one eye, glaring at Arthur, who cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Precisely why I brought you here—to be guided by the West’s greatest lover, Duke Martinez!”
“You flatter me so clumsily that it only annoys me.”
Arthur bowed slightly, smiling.
“…Why the West’s greatest lover? At least say the best in the Western Empire.”
“Oh, that’s impossible. I lie often, but sometimes I am truthful.”
Arthur turned to Nell.
“The greatest lover will be Your Majesty.”
Martinez inadvertently laughed, following Arthur’s gaze to Nell.
“The West’s greatest lover must set an example.”
“Sophistry, fatherless Arthur.”
“Even sophistry is fine. I’m a man who does what he says.”
“You’ve always been full of sophistry. But…”
Martinez exhaled sharply, staring at Nell.
“How on earth did the teachers of Your Majesty teach such an empty face, such a blank gaze?”
Most had focused on correcting his poor handwriting, failed, and the rest had fled.
“I also feel like running away.”
The mere thought of trying to correct such handwriting was astonishing. Martinez foresaw his own future of giving up.
“First, before any confession, Your Majesty must try to open the heart of Lady Marcella, even slightly.”
Despite speaking optimistically with Arthur and Nell, the young lady had already rejected the proposal and even stepped on Arthur to escape. Claiming one hundred confessions was effectively a rejection, even before any confession.
“Marcella is not just Marcella.”
Seeing him speak so nonchalantly about one hundred confessions, Martinez felt his own frustration rising.
“It’s a relief that even with that clueless expression, Your Majesty knows her name correctly. Do you know what she likes?”
“Marcella?”
“I heard you showed her various treasures. Does this ‘Marcella’ actually like treasures?”
“….”
Nell did not answer Martinez’s question directly, only slowly moved his eyes as if contemplating.
In the morning, Marcella woke early and left the guesthouse before the maids brought breakfast.
She had previously been idle, not knowing what to do in the palace, but now she decided to act. Arthur Digory was being increasingly relentless, after all.
“Then I will be relentless too!”
Thinking this, Marcella felt a sudden sense of freedom. She smiled and even hummed a tune.
She walked toward a tree-lined area.
Picking up fallen twigs and a few leaves, she thought she had gathered a decent amount. When she looked back, she realized something huge was at her feet.
“Kya!”
Startled, Marcella threw all the sticks she was holding at Tamarin.
Tamarin, squinting as the sticks hit him, glared at Marcella. Cold sweat ran down her back.
He growled lowly, and as Marcella flinched, he chuckled.
“Do you need something from me?”
Marcella cautiously backed away.
Tamarin did not respond and laid down with his belly on the ground. He wasn’t attacking, so what was he doing?
Marcella looked at him curiously, and he yawned widely.
“Is this your nest?”
—No way.
Tamarin snorted, resting his chin on his paws and closing his eyes. Why sleep here?
Marcella stepped back carefully to avoid disturbing him. The largest twig, lying near his feet, seemed perfect, but she could not bring herself to pick it up. Every time she moved closer, his ears twitched, so she withdrew.
After stepping aside to avoid disturbing his sleep, Tamarin stretched and followed her from behind.
