Chapter 12
At Agnès’s words, the Emperor tilted her head slightly, one corner of her lips curving upward.
That small, effortless motion froze the entire townhouse in silence. The atmosphere grew so tense that the faint rustle of her long ponytail brushing against her back could be heard.
Yet Agnès stood her ground, still smiling — clear, calm, and deceptively gentle.
It was a smile that looked innocent but was, in truth, perfectly defensive.
Is she truly that naïve… or does she know exactly what she’s doing?
The Emperor crossed her arms, speaking in a lazy yet sharp tone.
“You dare give an answer completely different from what I asked — even though you recognized me right away?”
Agnes bowed even deeper, her voice soft and respectful.
“I have heard that Your Majesty, the sun of the Empire, possesses wisdom greater than any sage. I could never imagine that one so wise would be unaware of what happens within her own lands.”
Her words sounded polite, but the meaning underneath was dangerous.
“I’m sure Your Majesty thinks I am unworthy of the one you hold dear. I only thought to myself how kind and loving you must be, to care so deeply for your brother’s future.”
“Ha!”
The Emperor let out a loud, sharp laugh and stepped closer.
Standing before her, Agnès looked small and fragile — like a fawn before a lioness.
The Emperor raised her hand and tilted Agnès’s chin upward with one finger. Around them, servants gasped and quickly looked away. It was a gesture far too bold for anyone to interrupt.
“So, you think I’m just being petty.”
Agnes blinked, then gave a gentle, bashful smile.
“You misunderstand, Your Majesty. I only felt the warmth of a sister’s affection. Isn’t it natural for an elder sister to wish the best for her beloved brother?”
It was as if she genuinely found the situation pleasant.
“So you do think I’m being petty?”
“If Your Majesty calls this pettiness, then I am happy to endure and even enjoy it.”
The Emperor stared at her for a long moment, then released her chin. Agnès didn’t waver; she simply bowed her head gracefully, still smiling.
And then —
“Ha… haha! Ahahahaha!”
The Emperor burst out laughing. At first, it sounded disbelieving, then grew into genuine amusement.
“Dylan’s taste in women is… something else! Fascinating!”
Everyone in the room had the same thought — Did she almost say ‘ridiculous’?
No one dared react. They were only relieved that the tension had broken and that Agnès seemed to have survived the confrontation intact.
The Emperor noticed the shift in mood as well.
So… she’s already earned their trust, has she?
For a woman at the center of such gossip to be welcomed in her fiancé’s home — that said a great deal.
She hadn’t been arrogant, hadn’t acted like the lady of the house before her time. That alone spoke volumes about her character.
The Emperor’s smile softened, her eyes sparkling with interest.
“Well, the lady isn’t wrong. I do think quite highly of my brother. I’d been planning to find him a suitable bride soon — though you, my dear, don’t exactly fit the criteria.”
“Do you oppose this marriage, Your Majesty?”
The question was calm — so calm it startled even the Emperor.
There was no fear, no desperation, not even unease on Agnès’s face.
Does she not care if the marriage falls apart? Or does she trust Dylan that much?
Kali narrowed her blue eyes thoughtfully.
Dylan was the guarded type, cautious and impossible to read. For him to inspire such quiet confidence in someone was… unexpected.
“If I could oppose it, I would. But I can’t.”
“May I ask why?”
“Because I made Dylan a promise.”
A promise — between an Emperor and the brother often called her rival. What kind of promise could that be?
A powerful duchy? Freedom from imperial interference?
But the Emperor’s answer was something far more human.
“He told me he wanted to marry the person he loves. I was shocked, honestly. For someone who carries the weight of duty like a crown, hearing such a thing from him caught me completely off guard.”
Agnes’s golden eyes fluttered, a crack finally forming in her carefully serene expression.
“The one he… loves.”
She repeated the words softly, covering her mouth as if to hide an involuntary reaction.
To others, she might have looked touched — moved by a romantic confession.
But inside, her thoughts were spinning.
So that was his dream…
Of course it was. She knew better than anyone how kind and gentle Dylan could be beneath his stoic exterior. Wanting to marry for love suited him perfectly.
But since their union was a contract, that dream had been sacrificed.
Guilt rose in her chest, but she forced it down.
She placed a hand against her flushed cheek and smiled faintly, as if embarrassed.
“Then I’ll simply have to prove that I’m worthy of the one Your Majesty cherishes. Please, come inside.”
At her signal, Gaveline stepped forward to lead the way.
The Emperor turned her gaze toward him — a simple, indifferent look — yet something about it made his throat tighten. He lowered his eyes quickly, sweat glistening at his temple.
What was that?
Agnes noticed the strange tension immediately. The Emperor’s gaze had been sharp, cold — like a blade.
Without hesitation, she stepped slightly forward, positioning herself between the two.
It didn’t matter that she couldn’t fully block him with her smaller frame; what mattered was the intent.
The Emperor blinked, then smiled brightly — the same serene, beautiful face as Dylan’s.
In an instant, the tension vanished as if it had never existed.
“Come now,” she said cheerfully. “I’d like to try a cup of tea brewed by my brother’s fiancée.”
Then, in a gesture so casual it was almost flirtatious, the Emperor extended a hand to escort her.
Agnes hesitated but couldn’t refuse. She placed her delicate hand atop the Emperor’s palm.
Was I imagining it?
To her surprise, the Emperor’s hand was not smooth and soft, but calloused — the hand of someone who had trained with a sword.
As they walked side by side, Agnès asked gently, more out of genuine curiosity than formality—
“Have you trained with a blade, Your Majesty?”
Her tone held not just curiosity, but admiration.
She had lived her entire life as a noble lady — restrained, graceful, confined. She had never been allowed to run, to fight, or to even linger outdoors too long.
To her, the image of a woman wielding a sword — especially one as powerful as the Emperor — was incredible.
Kali, catching the sparkle of awe in those golden eyes, chuckled softly.
“I have. I found swordsmanship rather fun, actually — and it’s an essential skill for an Emperor to learn. This empire, after all, was founded by knights.”
“Then it’s thanks to Your Majesty that the empire still boasts such strong knights today.”
Agnès’s words were flattering but never servile — spoken with that same poised grace that made her seem every inch the perfect lady.
The Emperor studied her, remembering something Dylan had once said:
‘She’s not as prim and proper as she seems.’
Yes… he had said that.
For a brief moment earlier, Kali thought she’d glimpsed that side of her — a flicker beneath the mask.
Her lips curved mischievously.
“Perhaps so. Though of course, I was never quite the genius my dear brother was — the one everyone said appeared only once in a century.”
Her tone was light, teasing — but her eyes gleamed with something far sharper.
