Chapter 67
Why, of all times, was Crown Prince Arden—who had concealed his identity—passing through that place just then?
That day, Arden’s morning began at the Imperial Palace.
“Your Majesty, shall we take a walk to the stone wall again today?”
“Sounds good.”
Whether their son across from them frowned or not, the Emperor and Empress—Arden’s parents—were glued to each other, completely immersed in their own little world.
Lately, the imperial couple’s walking route always started from the Emperor’s office and ended at the stone wall where the Magic Saintess had carved the names of nobles.
They would sit at a table placed in front of it, snickering as they looked at the names of the nobles immortalized there like taxidermy specimens. That had become their daily routine.
Wasn’t the Emperor’s own name written there too, you ask?
‘If I did something wrong, shouldn’t it be recorded?’
…was the Emperor’s stance on the matter.
No matter how powerful an Emperor might be, he couldn’t simply do whatever he pleased.
The Empire had Imperial Law—something that stood above even the Emperor’s orders. And as the guardian of that law, the Emperor himself had to obey it more strictly than anyone else.
According to the law. By the proper procedures. With justification for everything.
That was only natural, but honestly? There were times he wanted to throw it all away. Every Emperor in history had probably felt that way at least once.
Every time he tried to do anything, he had to negotiate, compromise, coordinate, and provide justification to nobles who were always obsessed with protecting their own interests…
‘You selfish bastards! Do you ever think about anything other than stuffing your own pockets?!’
There were countless moments when he wanted to scream, flip the desk, and storm out—but then the court historians would immediately record, “His Majesty overturned a desk,” and journalists with access to the palace would snap photos, publish articles, and history would remember him as a tyrant who flipped tables.
So even during the recent fire in the Plank Street district, he’d barely restrained his boiling rage as he watched the nobles’ behavior.
And then—
The Magic Saintess appeared and boldly carved the nobles’ names into the palace wall!
The Emperor later told his son it felt like “downing a bowl of grapefruit liquor with carbonation.”
Since then, the Emperor had been secretly cheering for the Magic Saintess.
Like this.
“So, my son, how is the investigation into the Magic Saintess going?”
“……”
“The silence tells me it’s not going well, hm?”
“…We will catch her. Please don’t worry yourself.”
“Worry? Hardly. I was hoping it wouldn’t go well.”
“Your Majesty, really—our son will be hurt.”
“…….”
Sometimes, the parent who tries to stop things is even more irritating than the one doing the hitting…
Grrr…
After finishing his morning schedule at the palace in a foul mood, Arden headed to a tailor shop on Demarche Street.
He wanted to calm himself by buying some clean handkerchiefs.
But—
“Lord Arden! Oh no, Seraphina just stepped out. It’s lunchtime.”
“…….”
Of course, Arden hadn’t come specifically to see Senior Seraphina—it was really just to buy handkerchiefs.
So it wasn’t like he felt disappointed, or thought the trip was wasted, or considered pretending to leave and coming back later.
Still—
“…….”
Even after receiving fifty brand-new handkerchiefs, his mood didn’t improve.
So he headed toward the plaza.
A few days ago, he’d seen her sitting on the fountain edge there, spreading jam on a scone.
It wasn’t that he was hoping for a “coincidental” encounter—he needed to take a walk anyway.
On the way, citizens who recognized Arden started talking to him.
“Lord Arden!”
“Lord Arden, where are you going?”
“Lord Arden, are you going to catch the Magic Saintess?”
“Lord Arden, have some of this!”
Since being appointed as the Magic Saintess investigator, people had started approaching him like this constantly.
They giggled and shoved homemade snacks into his hands—it was practically like he was being treated as a stray cat.
Arden refused to acknowledge it, but to the citizens of the Empire, the thrilling chase between the Magic Saintess and the handsome knight Arden had become prime entertainment.
Winter nights came early, the popular opera Cernier had just ended its run, and people were bored. The timing couldn’t have been better.
“Eat up and catch the Magic Saintess~”
“But I kind of hope you don’t catch her~”
The girls who’d handed him bread burst into laughter and ran off, leaving Arden trembling with frustration.
Unable to lash out at imperial citizens, Arden stood there dumbly holding the bread when—
“Lord Arden!”
Lord Arden! Help me!
“Save me!”
Turning around, he saw Count Cameron, a judge from the Luard Central Court.
The man looked completely ruined, staggering and rushing toward him in a panic.
“Help me! Please!”
Behind the flailing judge was a massive man.
Arden’s gaze drifted toward him—and he flinched.
What is that hideous thing?
Unshaven stubble covering his jaw, cheeks, even his neck.
A sleeveless shirt revealing thick, bristly—
Ugh! Ugh!
While Arden fought the urge to plunge his eyes into the fountain, Cameron reached him and hid behind his back.
“He keeps staring at me!”
Why is that monstrosity—?!
Though Cameron hid behind him, Arden himself desperately wished there were something—a fence, a wall, even a cannon—between him and that man.
Suppressing his disgust, Arden shielded the judge and looked up at the man.
The moment their eyes met, the man broke into a cold sweat and darted his eyes around.
Judging by his chin, he hadn’t shaved today either.
Truly hideous.
Irritated beyond reason, Arden asked sharply,
“What do you want?”
“So,” Arden said, “this man has been staring at you? For several days?”
“That’s right!”
“And the city guard said staring alone doesn’t constitute a crime.”
“Exactly!”
“That won’t do.”
Arden frowned.
While this was happening, I stood there nervously, my belly sticking out.
Why do you have to show up here, Arden?
I cursed him internally.
I was shaking.
Any second now, I felt like he’d look at me and say, ‘Senior Seraphina?’
Tremble. Tremble.
Gulp. Gulp.
I kept swallowing nervously.
Of course, Arden noticed and made a face like ugh.
“Hey. Why are you staring at people so carelessly?”
He scolded me—completely unaware of who I was.
“People aren’t objects. Don’t you know it’s uncomfortable to be stared at?”
Even animals consider prolonged staring a sign of hostility and attack, he added.
Well said.
I applauded internally—but outwardly, I doubled down shamelessly.
“Staring isn’t a crime, is it?”
“It may not be a crime, but it can be a threat.”
Yes, yes.
Good job, good job.
“And,” Arden continued,
“Staring at someone when you know it makes them uncomfortable is an act of disrespecting their dignity. And if you’ve already disregarded their dignity, you’re capable of committing a crime. I’m here to prevent that.”
“……”
“The city guard may feel differently, but I have grounds to detain you. Answer me. Why are you staring at Judge Cameron?”
“Well…”
I pulled out the excuse I’d prepared just in case.
“Because he’s pretty.”
“What?”
“He’s pretty. That’s why I stared.”
I held out a paper flower I’d hidden behind my back.
“It was love at first sight. I followed him because I liked him.”
“…….”
“You’ll let me off, right? It was because I liked him.”
“…….”
A brief silence fell.
“Haah.”
Arden pressed a hand to his forehead and turned to Judge Cameron.
“Let’s take him in.”
“No! No!”
The judge waved his hands frantically.
“If you take him in, his statement will be recorded!”
“Exactly!”
“That would be humiliating!”
“Then what do you want me to do?”
“Just warn him!”
Tell him never to look at me again!
So appearances mattered that much.
Shaking his head, Arden tried to persuade the judge a few times before giving up and turning back to me.
“You heard him. You’re not to follow or stare at people like this without consent.”
“But I really like the judge—”
“Like him or not, that doesn’t matter.”
His patience clearly gone, he cut me off.
“It doesn’t matter whether you like him or hate him. What matters is the other person’s will. Understand?”
Ooh. Forceful.
“From this moment on, if you appear in front of Judge Cameron even once more, I will arrest you.”
Arden warned me.
“I’ll inform the city guard as well.”
He finished speaking and turned to leave with the judge.
No—he started to.
Then he stopped.
And looked back at me suspiciously.
“But you.”
“Yes, yes?”
“Are you sick or something?”
“Huh…?”
“You’ve been sweating coldly and avoiding eye contact this whole time. Why?”
“Well…”
“Why?”
“It’s hot……”
“…….”
It was the middle of winter.
Arden was wearing a coat.
“Must be the fever of your love for the judge making you feel warm.”
“Get lost.”
“Yes, sir.”
