Chapter 77
“About that, Marquis.”
“Yes? Ah, yes…”
“I don’t think it can be postponed any longer.”
It wasn’t a lie, yet it was a lie. Everything was growing without issue—so maybe it was okay to take things a little lightly… Maybe, when time passed and she matured, she wouldn’t be so hurt even if she heard the truth… Perhaps it would be fine to just pretend not to know and tell her one day when it naturally comes to mind.
On days when no excuse came to mind, he would forget about it. On days when the burden on his heart felt lighter, he would simply enjoy the moment.
Ultimately, it was a habit—not quite deceit or fraud, just a routine.
“Is something wrong…?”
Oz’s voice dropped heavily.
Oz had originally become Tia’s aide to tell her the truth. Yet somehow, so much time had passed… As Tia grew, his sense of indebtedness only grew stronger. Perhaps it was for the best.
If he hadn’t been nudged, he might have kept his mouth shut forever.
Oz waited for what would come from Robis’s mouth.
“The Empress… Olivia Alberto seems to have regained her senses.”
“Pardon? You mean now?”
Oz didn’t expect such news, but he maintained a cold, composed expression.
“She sent her aide to attend tonight’s dinner. Once the debutante ceremony is over, Tia’s position as Crown Princess will be even more solidified… Perhaps because of the timing, I can’t help feeling conflicted.”
“Understood.”
A shallow crease appeared on Oz’s forehead.
It wasn’t about mistrusting Marquis Alberto or feeling pity for Olivia Alberto—it was because he was determined to protect Tia, the only one Cheryl had left in the world.
“Please don’t worry too much, Your Majesty. Our noble Tia is not someone weak, is she?”
“Indeed. Neither Cheryl nor Tia were weak. The only weak one was me.”
Seeing the solemn Robis with his brow prominent from worry, Oz lowered his voice.
“I actually came with something to tell you, Your Majesty, but there’s something you should know first.”
Robis adjusted his posture, expecting a serious statement…
“It seems Your Majesty’s granddaughter is unmistakably talented. I’ve heard she has a knack for swordsmanship, like me. Were you aware?”
“Tia? I knew she played around at the training grounds, but talent in swordsmanship…? Wait, why does that make her resemble you, Marquis? She should naturally resemble me.”
Robis furrowed his brow, clearly irritated by how well he understood Oz’s intentions.
“Your Majesty, you honestly disliked handling swords, didn’t you? Surely you wouldn’t lie in front of me, your former mentor. You would always run off or hide whenever it was sword practice.”
Oz clicked his tongue, shaking his head. Just remembering how he had to mobilize all the royal knights to track down Robis made him shiver.
“I disliked it? Very much! But I think I was good at it… wasn’t I? Perhaps that was because of my talent.”
“You’re gravely mistaken, Your Majesty. Tia inherited her skill from my daughter Cheryl, and Cheryl learned from me. Therefore, Your Majesty resembles me in that regard. And just now—”
“Just now?”
Robis glared at Oz with a haughty look, but it didn’t intimidate him in the least.
“Didn’t Your Majesty yourself say it? The only weak one is you…”
“Ha! You dare twist my words like that? Now? At this very moment?”
Seeing Robis scoff in disbelief, Oz spoke calmly.
To Robis—his sovereign, unassailable by anyone, yet the husband of the daughter he cherished, and his former disciple—Oz said gently:
“Anyway, Your Majesty is very strong, like me. All I wanted to convey is that you simply need to steel your heart.”
As Oz finished speaking, Robis’s eyes softened.
“Ah… Is that the purpose of your visit today?”
“Of course not. Actually, it’s…”
“Why are you hesitating, Marquis?”
“Your Majesty wanted a personal bodyguard, and you chose Sir Jerron, a trusted knight of the Royal Knight Corps.”
“Sir Jerron?”
Robis glanced at Sir Ain. Sir Ain, who had remained silent, shook his head. Apparently, even he didn’t know.
“It seems he was unsure whether to go to Your Majesty or me, but he came to me and asked me to keep it a secret for now. So, please regard it as such.”
“Good grief.”
More unsettling than the fact that Oz had outmaneuvered him was the presence of Jerron.
Jerron… Wasn’t he the boy Tia rescued from the street? And now he had become a royal knight… He couldn’t simply worry, nor could he relax. Being a father seemed far harder than holding the position of the Empire’s supreme ruler.
“What did Sir Brivan say?”
“He said it would be fine. That Jerron is an exceptionally skilled knight.”
“I see. Very well. If it’s Tia’s decision… I’ll accept it.”
Having finished his business, Oz stood to leave but suddenly chuckled, turning around.
“By the way, Your Majesty.”
“Again, Marquis? You can just leave, you know.”
Robis clenched his teeth and forced a smile. He appeared fierce, yet the unbreakable trust and loyalty between them allowed Oz to tease him without offense.
“At the debutante ceremony, I will accompany Your Majesty for the third dance. So please, don’t be obstinate and hand over your hand.”
“What? No! That’s impossible! From the second dance onward, it’s mine continuously!”
“Since Your Majesty permitted it, I shall take my leave.”
Robis clicked his tongue in frustration.
“Hey, Marquis! Why do you keep… taking my beloved women…?”
“They are also my beloved women. Hmm. One is enough to take.”
“Who said you could take them? Absolutely not! They are mine! Mine!”
“Then let’s give them a choice. Let them pick the man they desire.”
“Why would that even be necessary? It’s been my place all along!”
“That’s Your Majesty’s claim. Shouldn’t we consider the other side as well? Naturally!”
Sir Ain anxiously peered through the partly open door. Since the Marquis was occupying the space, he couldn’t close it.
“…This….”
Your Majesty? The Marquis? Anyone overhearing might think it’s a love triangle…
It was a misunderstanding waiting to happen, and Sir Ain muttered wryly, lowering his voice as he watched the two continue their playful argument.
“Tch. My turn will never come….”
The imperial kitchen was bustling. It was the first dinner between the Emperor and Empress in 14 years.
“Hurry! Exclude any allergenic ingredients and stick to the basics! Prepare everything properly!”
The head chef scurried around, barking not-so-much orders as sharp advice.
“Keep the seasoning light. We can provide sauce separately, so let’s bring out the natural flavors of the ingredients!”
In this space of tension, excitement, and curiosity, an unnoticed guest lingered.
Not completely invisible, but hidden well enough that ordinary people could never detect him: Jerron.
As a royal knight, he had to gather information whenever possible. There had been no significant progress on the Norten Märchen assignment. All he had discovered was that Marquis Alberto was also looking for that boy.
‘Marquis Alberto must have told Norten that the boy is alive. But why is he looking for him? Could it be that the boy isn’t in the Marquis’s hands?’
‘Why would the Marquis say such a thing? What benefit would Norten gain if he found the boy? If some past scandal were to surface, it would surely harm the Empress… and yet he risks it…’
As he calculated various possibilities and observed the kitchen atmosphere, Jerron was struck by a sharp, unfamiliar scent that made him feel nauseous. His eyes burned, and his nose began to itch.
“Ah… Ah-choo!”
He tried to hold it in, but a sneeze escaped.
“What? Who sneezes in this sacred kitchen! Get out immediately!”
The chef’s sharp reprimand froze everyone in place, their eyes darting about—but they could not find the culprit.
“Focus, everyone! If you’re not feeling well, don’t be in the kitchen. Go rest instead!”
Feeling the severity of his condition, Jerron covered his nose and mouth and left the kitchen.
Even back at the knights’ quarters, he couldn’t regain composure for a while. His eyes were bloodshot, and his nose ran relentlessly.
Suddenly, he worried: what if someone had maliciously used poisonous ingredients to harm the Emperor and Empress?
Holding a handkerchief over his face, Jerron headed to Tia’s palace. After all, he had been ordered to serve as her bodyguard. Surely, nothing would go wrong—he thought optimistically.
