~Chapter 23~
I forced myself to calm down and sat back at the desk. Narrowing my eyes, I carefully inspected the outside of the envelope.
Nothing strange.
In fantasy movies, they always hide secret magic circles on letters with invisible ink or glowing liquids… but this one had none of that. And honestly, the contents hadn’t been anything too special either.
“Does he… just not have much to do?”
I remembered the Emperor standing so proudly as the officiant at my wedding with Apollyon.
It wasn’t even a ceremony that needed an officiant, but the Emperor insisted he would do it himself. Obviously, no one could refuse the most powerful man in the empire.
Compared to emperors from other novels I’d read, he did seem… less busy. Almost like he had too much free time.
I opened the window slightly and glanced outside.
The imperial messenger’s giant black horse had already galloped far away, its flag fluttering.
He had left in such a hurry that he even refused Wilson and Apollyon’s offer to rest for a while. He’d delivered the letter and immediately turned back.
I watched the messenger shrink into the distance like a matchstick figure before turning back to the Emperor’s letter.
Sitting by the window, I read it again.
Then finally, one sentence stood out to me.
And I realized the Emperor’s true intention.
***
The Emperor of the Ignite Empire, Blickshire Exenite, was the only child of the former emperor.
It wasn’t that children were rare in their family, but strangely enough, no matter how healthy and loving the Emperor and Empress were, they had only one child—Blickshire.
So he became the sole heir, the only one to inherit the Imperial bloodline.
After his mother passed away from illness, his father, the Emperor, poured even more affection onto him. There was no need to split love between siblings or argue over who was most fit to inherit the throne—Blickshire was the only choice.
But the imperial throne is always a dangerous seat.
The higher you rise, the greater the risk. And Blickshire, as the sole legitimate heir, was always in danger.
If he disappeared, dozens of nobles would flock to the palace, each claiming they had the right to rule. Civil war would be inevitable.
So the former Emperor did everything to protect him. Guards, knights, constant vigilance…
But danger came from the last place anyone expected.
At 14 years old, Blickshire was kidnapped.
And not just anywhere—he was kidnapped inside the Imperial Palace itself.
Worse, the main culprit was one of his own elite guards.
The empire went into chaos.
At the time, Apollyon’s father was the Grand Duke. He rushed to rescue Blickshire and succeeded. But that same day, his wife Lillie (Apollyon’s mother) passed away without him by her side.
Though he never regretted saving the Prince, Blickshire always carried guilt—his life had been saved, but at the cost of another’s life. That trauma haunted him deeply.
The kidnappers all committed suicide before they could be interrogated. A few were captured, but even they ended up dead under mysterious circumstances.
The empire never uncovered the mastermind behind it.
But the palace wasn’t foolish.
They strongly suspected House Quinton.
Still, with no evidence, they couldn’t raid a powerful duke’s family. So instead, they praised and rewarded the Teabridte family (Apollyon’s house) publicly, strengthening ties and using it as a way to keep Quinton in check.
The Emperor gifted the Teabridtes massive lands and treasures in gratitude.
From then on, the balance among the three great ducal houses shifted.
Quinton’s envy and anger naturally turned toward Teabridte, and that’s why Sonod Quinton grew up hating Apollyon so fiercely.
All because of inferiority complex.
“Pathetic reason.”
I smirked, picturing Sonod’s smug face. Clearly, weakness and pettiness ran in the Quinton family’s blood.
Unable to openly oppose the Imperial Family, they took it out on Apollyon instead. Ridiculous cowards.
How the original Petunia ever liked Sonod, I’ll never understand.
***
In fact, the Quinton line itself was born out of inferiority.
Their founder, Erburn Quinton, was the firstborn prince of the Empire—born to the Emperor’s second wife.
But the throne went to his younger half-brother, Prince Reynald, son of the Empress. No one objected. It was natural that the Empress’s son became Crown Prince.
But Erburn never accepted it. He constantly envied his younger brother.
And certain factions who disliked Reynald supported him.
Still, Erburn lacked the talent, strength, and qualities of a true Emperor. Even objectively, he was no match for his brother.
The Emperor of that time saw through him. He knew that once Reynald inherited the throne, Erburn would cause trouble.
So instead of letting him rebel, he gave him a new title—Duke of Quinton—and massive wealth. Enough to soothe his ambitions, or so he thought.
And so House Quinton was founded.
But Erburn never stopped dreaming of the throne. He passed down that desire like a cursed inheritance.
Even 60 years later, his descendants still clung to the same obsession.
And when the Imperial throne only grew stronger with each generation, their envy shifted to the Teabridte family—an easier target than the Emperor himself.
That was the nature of Quinton: a house built on envy, sustained by envy.
***
Now, I understood why the Emperor had sent me a letter.
It was a message to everyone: the Imperial Family and House Teabridte are still close.
By showing personal friendship not just with Apollyon, but with me, the new Duchess, he was strengthening that alliance.
Of course, such favoritism could be dangerous—it could upset the balance of power. But in these times, with Quinton as the common enemy, it was necessary.
And yes, I knew the rumors spreading in the capital. Most of them involved me, not Apollyon. Sonod had clearly lost his mind because of me too.
In this situation, the Emperor wanted to make our ties stronger. That was the real message.
“Ahh… my fate.”
I sighed, knocking my shoulder with my fist before pulling out pen and paper.
I had no choice but to write a reply.
In the original story, the Emperor trusted Apollyon deeply and always supported him.
So even if it was troublesome, it was in my best interest to keep him firmly on our side.
If I wanted to crush the cockroach-like Quinton family and enjoy a sweet, sticky romance with Apollyon… I needed the Emperor as an ally.
