Chapter 95

What kind of genius was this?

According to Bernian, the improved wheat that had shaken the entire continent after its release in the Empire three years ago was Petches’s work.

It was never easy to reach such a level in alchemy just by studying books without a teacher.

No wonder Ianharte said he was talented…

Liana never liked studying, but she was always full of curiosity for new things.

And Petches had a deep passion for the field he loved most—alchemy.

In short, the two of them were perfect conversation partners.

But unfortunately, their meeting did not last long.

While they were happily talking about alchemy, Petches’s face suddenly flushed red, and he began breathing heavily.

Ianharte, clearly accustomed to this, quickly helped Petches into a bedroom, laid him down, and then used the communication sphere on the bedside table to summon someone.

Before the summoned person arrived, Ianharte confirmed that Petches had fallen asleep, then left the mansion.

“…Will Lord Torca be all right?”

At Liana’s question, Ianharte let out a small sigh and nodded slowly.

“He’s been frail since childhood. That’s nothing unusual for him. Especially now, with the change of seasons, it gets worse.”

“Ah…”

The image of his tall but slender frame flashed across her mind.

“So it’s not that he has some specific illness, right?”

Her voice was full of concern.

It had been less than an hour since they met, yet she already felt close to Petches—enough to worry for him.

Part of it was because he was Ianharte’s half-brother, someone Ianharte cared about. But mostly, it was because Petches himself was a genuinely kind person.

“He’s just naturally weak, not sick. There’s a difference.”

“That’s a relief…”

“He was born frail. All we can do is make sure he eats well and avoids strain. There’s a personal physician stationed in the annex for him at all times.”

Hearing that, Liana finally felt reassured.

So the person Ianharte had summoned earlier must have been that doctor in the annex.

Of course. She might have only just met Petches today, but Ianharte had been his brother all his life. Judging by Ianharte’s attitude, he had surely done everything possible for Petches’s health.

And as Emperor, there was hardly anyone in the Empire—or even the continent—who could do more than he already had.

Ianharte finally began to explain about Petches after they left the mansion and walked for about five minutes, arriving at a small park.

“As you’ve already guessed, Petches is the son of the late Emperor. My half-brother.”

As she sat on a bench that was more comfortable than it looked, Liana slowly turned her head toward him.

“…Are you sure it’s okay to tell me this?”

“That’s why I asked you to come with me. I intend to tell you everything you need to know. After all, you will be living at my side from now on.”

There was nothing particularly unusual about those words. Their relationship was contractual, and sharing information for smooth cooperation was only natural.

But perhaps it was the gentle expression on Ianharte’s face when he said it. That ordinary statement struck Liana with an unexpected wave of emotion.

“…But earlier, you pretended not to notice. You saw me wondering, didn’t you?”

Her tone sounded almost sulky.

Before she could take back her unintended words, Ianharte tightened his hold on her hand slightly.

“If that upset you, then I apologize.”

His drowsy, low voice carried an unmistakable trace of laughter.

“As for not mentioning Petches earlier…”

“I know. You wanted Lord Torca to introduce himself to me, right?”

Liana interrupted gently, suddenly embarrassed by her childish complaint.

Ianharte gazed at her quietly, his eyes curving softly.

“You’re quick to notice things sometimes.”

“I told you—I have a sharp sense of awareness. No one’s ever called me clueless in my life.”

She said it half-proudly, half-teasingly, and for a moment, Ianharte’s eyes narrowed as though amused. Then his expression softened again.

For just an instant, he had looked like he found her funny.

When their eyes met again, his gaze was so sweet—like the gaze lovers shared as they passed by.

…What am I thinking?

It was all because of those strange eyes of his.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason.”

His childish answer made him chuckle before he turned his gaze forward again.

“What is that supposed to mean…”

Matching his slower stride, Liana tapped lightly on the back of his hand.

“Did Lord Torca refuse the title of royalty himself? I would think Your Majesty wanted to grant it to him.”

Ianharte answered immediately.

“He didn’t want to live as royalty. Said he couldn’t bear the suffocating lifestyle, so he refused.”

Her mind replayed Petches’s earlier words, and she found herself smiling faintly.

He had said it was better not having to live the rigid, suffocating life of the Imperial Palace.

Despite his gentle voice and demeanor, his words could be sharp and unyielding.

And truthfully, Liana agreed with him.

When her laughter faded, Ianharte’s quiet voice continued the story.

“As you may have gathered, Petches’s mother was a maid in the late Empress’s palace.”

Petches was the discarded illegitimate child of the late Emperor.

The late Emperor had loved the former Empress—Ianharte’s mother—deeply. But at times, he recklessly indulged his lust elsewhere.

It wasn’t because the Empress had not loved him.

Rather, the Emperor had simply been a born libertine. Even while loving the Empress, he could not abandon his base desires.

One day, when the Empress, driven mad with jealousy, clawed the Emperor’s face, he vented his anger by taking a maid from her palace.

The next day, he gave that maid a few expensive jewels and ordered her to leave the palace to live outside.

Unable to disobey what was essentially an imperial command, the maid quietly packed her things and left the palace. Ten months later, she gave birth to a boy with the distinct features of Imperial blood.

That boy was Petches.

After hearing the full story, Liana’s reaction was cold.

“The late Emperor was garbage.”

“Indeed.”

Ianharte agreed calmly.

He himself felt little toward the late Emperor. Not so much hatred, just… nothing. But he could not deny that the man had been vile.

A light breeze brushed across their faces before Liana spoke again.

“So… how did you come to know Lord Torca?”

Her question faltered as she stumbled over his title, softening the mood.

“Planning to call me ‘you’ when we’re outside?”

His playful tone was unmistakable.

“…Do you dislike it?”

“Of course not.”

“You’re smiling, though.”

“I smiled because it was cute.”

…What.

Recently, Ianharte had been saying things like that more often, and every time, Liana couldn’t help but get flustered.

After all, who would dare call a princess “cute”?

Not her mother, not her teachers, and certainly no one after she had grown up. She had only ever been called beautiful, elegant, or admirable.

But when Ianharte said it, his gaze and voice struck directly at her heart, making her react more strongly than she should.

“Stop saying things like that… I’m not a child.”

“It’s a prejudice to think only children can be cute. You’re holding onto a very unfair bias.”

Her attempt to scold him only seemed to amuse him further, leaving her speechless and embarrassed.

Finally, after she gave up, Ianharte answered her earlier question.

“It was by chance.”

That was not the sort of answer she expected from him.

“…By chance?”

“Yes. I was traveling incognito and saw him begging in the slums.”

“What?”

Liana froze, her eyes widening.

“Are you serious?”

Her startled question made Ianharte frown as if offended.

“Why would I lie about that?”

Well, that was true… but it sounded like something out of a fairy tale.

“When Petches was born, I was only two years old. There’s no way I could have known about his existence.”

“I-I didn’t mean to say I don’t believe you…”

She tried to explain, but Ianharte still looked dissatisfied.

“I think you need to learn to trust me a little more.”

That quiet remark made her flinch.

She reflected on it inwardly. She really did have a habit of second-guessing everything he said.

Maybe it was because he always answered her curiosity with such honesty, his voice steady and warm, that she kept wanting to ask more and more.

…What nonsense am I thinking?

She shook off the thought, realizing she was unfairly blaming his kindness.

She resolved to apologize later.

For now, she focused on his steady voice as he continued.

The story of Petches began more than ten years ago, in just one day of Ianharte’s life.