Chapter 8
Yutton had selected appropriate tasks for me, leaving out military and diplomatic matters and focusing instead on the imperial budget and administration.
Fortunately, the workload was manageable. The imperial system itself was relatively simple. Most importantly, all the lessons from Lady Mare had finally proven worthwhile.
After fiddling with my quill for a while, I suddenly thought of Leto. More precisely, those glassy blue eyes—eyes full of suspicion and curiosity. Just recalling that gaze…
“He’s terrifying, after all.”
I shook my head.
Outside, the sun was setting. Even though I tried, there were still plenty of documents left to go through.
“How did Leto manage all this on his own? Is this what being an emperor means?”
I finished one document and pushed it aside, then brought a new one forward.
“Ah.”
I paused when I saw the title:
“The Goddess’s Miracle — The Baron of Orlan”
“The Goddess’s Miracle… isn’t this from the Imperial Temple?”
This didn’t seem like a document meant for me. Probably a mistake by Yutton.
Just then, Yutton entered with a servant.
“Your Majesty, I’ve brought some tea.”
“Thank you, Sir Yutton. I was just about to call for you.”
“Is something the matter?”
“I want to discuss these documents.”
Yutton gestured to the servant, who stepped back and left. Yutton quickly approached and took the document.
“Oh, it ended up here.”
“It seems like an interesting story. What happened?”
Yutton sighed.
“That goddess fuss, of course… oh, wait.”
He hastily covered his mouth, apparently worried about speaking ill of the goddess in front of me.
“It’s fine. Please tell me in detail.”
“My apologies, Your Majesty. Ahem! So, early yesterday, a figure of the goddess appeared on the garden wall of the Baron of Orlan. Made of a mysterious white, sparkling powder. The Imperial Temple recognized it as a miracle and even named the powder ‘Goddess’s Snowflake.’”
This incident! I had read about it in the original records. If my memory was correct… it was a rather malicious fraud.
After the “Goddess’s Snowflake” incident, the Baron of Orlan became famous. He used the notoriety to expand his fur business and made a fortune. Part of the profits even flowed into the Imperial Temple’s military fund.
In other words, it was a scam orchestrated between the Baron and the Imperial Temple.
The “Goddess’s Snowflake” was just powdered stone—alum ground into “white alum.”
I had laughed when I first read about it. Using stone powder to trick people? But now I understood.
The Imperial Temple had long suppressed scientific research, including geology and mineralogy. And alum was primarily mined along the coast, scarce in the inland capital and surrounding areas.
“Such a scam… should I just let it go?”
“Sir Yutton, does the Imperial Temple always submit reports like this whenever a ‘Goddess’s Miracle’ occurs?”
“Yes. Then the imperial family sends a customary reward.”
“Even the imperial treasury is drained. How serious.”
“In any case, I’ll take this document with me.”
“No, let me review it a bit more. It piqued my interest.”
“Ah, very well. Review it and set it aside. I will submit it to the Emperor later.”
“Agreed.”
“By the way, Your Majesty, have you completed all this?”
Yutton glanced at the pile of documents on the desk.
“Yes. I’m not sure if I did everything correctly, but please verify it.”
“You’re truly remarkable.”
Yutton looked at me with a mix of respect. All from just handling some paperwork.
He took the processed documents and left. I examined the “Goddess’s Snowflake” documents carefully. After a long moment of thought, I picked up my quill.
It was a little intimidating to intervene, but I couldn’t just leave it be.
I couldn’t give the answer outright; that would only arouse suspicion. Instead, I would provide a subtle hint—enough for Leto to figure it out himself.
Late at night, Leto entered the office. His face was weary, though that weariness had long since become familiar.
“You’ve arrived.”
Yutton stood to greet him. Leto nodded once, then glanced at the documents on the desk with a puzzled look.
“You didn’t bring all the documents.”
“No, it’s just that Her Majesty assisted with them.”
Yutton pointed to the console against the wall. Stacks of approved documents were piled there.
“No way…”
Leto approached, incredulous. “Impossible. The only training the Empress received was the ten days with Lady Mare.”
He examined each document. The processing was flawless—something that could only be achieved with skill and meticulous care.
“Ha.”
A weight seemed to lift from his shoulders. The burden of the overwhelming work had clearly been significant.
“Where is the Empress?”
“She appears to be in the adjacent office.”
“Unbelievable. She’s already claimed an office?”
Leto stared toward the next room, then set the documents on the console.
“Yutton, you may leave.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Yutton quickly gathered his things and left. Leto cautiously opened the door to the side room, which had always been empty, now radiating warmth.
The woman was asleep, slumped over her desk. Specifically, the woman who insisted on being called Livia.
Leto approached carefully. She appeared to be in a deep sleep. He spoke softly.
“Livia.”
“……”
“Is this how I should call you… Livia?”
She was indeed a peculiar woman—fearful of him yet unafraid to speak her mind, mastering etiquette perfectly but falling asleep slumped over a desk.
Then something caught Leto’s eye: a set of documents carefully placed aside.
“The Goddess’s Miracle — The Baron of Orlan”
He frowned at the word “Goddess.” As he read, it was yet another obvious scam.
“The problem is that proving this is a fraud will be difficult.”
On the last page, a note was scribbled in the margin. A memo left by Livia:
“The sands by the sea shine. Perhaps some white stones do as well.”
Leto immediately understood. It was a hint: the raw material for the “Goddess’s Snowflake” might be stone. Focus on stones found near the coast.
He closed the document with a soft thud and knelt beside Livia, his expression serious.
“Just who is this woman, really?”
He pressed his finger gently against her pale cheek. Soft, pliant, and smooth.
Livia shifted under the unfamiliar touch.
“Mm… Statin… yes.”
“Statin? That sounds like a man’s name.”
“Statin is enough… just Statin…”
Leto’s eyes widened.
“Statin… her lover?”
Suddenly, it all clicked. How had he not realized sooner? A little thought would have made it obvious.
“She had a lover… of course a woman like her wouldn’t be without one.”
Leto’s mood sank.
What was this feeling? Betrayal? Disappointment? Regret? Hard to put into words. For Leto, it was a new sensation.
A small chuckle escaped him. What was this soft, ill-fitting emotion?
He placed one hand on the desk and murmured as he gazed down at her:
“An Empress with a lover… interesting.”
He seemed reluctant to leave her side. The faint smile he’d carried gradually faded.
No. This isn’t interesting at all.
Leto admitted to himself that whatever this feeling was, it was certainly unpleasant.
I had a nightmare—overworked in a research lab.
Upon waking, I stared blankly out the window. The bright view lifted my spirits slightly. Yes, I must forget the dream.
I called for my maid.
“I’m heading to the office again. Get things ready.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Would you like tea or coffee before breakfast?”
“Coffee, please. By the way, who brought me to my bedroom last night?”
I vaguely remembered falling asleep at the office but not returning on my own. That poor page must have worked hard.
The maid hesitated, then spoke:
“Your Majesty… the Emperor carried you.”
“…The Emperor?”
“He carried me? Not a piggyback, he carried me in his arms?”
“Was I really that asleep?”
“Rather, His Majesty seemed reluctant to wake you. He carefully laid you down and left.”
“Oh… I see. Go on, and please bring the coffee.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The maid bowed and left. I got out of bed and approached the vanity. My reflection showed a face flushed bright red.
“…Embarrassing.”
I couldn’t imagine it—Leto carrying me here?
Why would he do such a thing? I wasn’t drunk. I would have gotten up if awakened.
Perhaps because I had fallen asleep at the desk. Not exactly fitting for an Empress. He wanted me to feel some embarrassment, perhaps.
Or it could have been a deliberate act. Maintaining appearances, for political reasons. Whatever it was, it was intentional. Surely not done out of affection.
Organizing my thoughts eased my mind. After breakfast and preparation, I headed to the office.
As I rounded the corridor, men had gathered outside the office. Among them, Leto stood out first, taller than the others by a head or so.
He seemed to be consulting with his secretaries—right in front of the office.
Today, meeting him was awkward. I considered returning later, but our eyes met.
I tried to appear calm and gave a light nod. He stared intently.
“Your Majesty.”
“Good morning, Your Majesty.”
The secretaries, noticing me, bowed politely. I smiled at them.
“Good morning. Thank you all for your hard work. Please continue.”
I stood in front of the office, ready to enter. Just as the servant reached for the door:
“Everyone, leave. We’ll continue the rest of the discussion later.”
Leto dismissed the secretaries and gestured for the doorkeeper to step aside. He nudged the slightly open door, and it clicked shut.
“Do you have something to say?”
He leaned lightly against the door instead of answering, preventing me from opening it. Why was he acting this way?
“Is it uncomfortable for you that I handle imperial affairs?”
“No. Not at all. Quite the opposite—you’ve done excellently.”
“Really?”
I felt a quiet happiness. I was sensitive to praise like this.
“Then you’ll need to move from the door so I can continue doing excellent work.”
“I understand. But there’s something I must say first.”
He spoke with a cold smile:
“I have zero tolerance for people who lack focus.”
