Chapter 13
“What if Leto hadn’t shown up in that situation?”
It wasn’t that I had nothing to say. I had a plan, after all.
“I was going to publicize the authenticity of the Goddess’s Snowflake. By now, Your Majesty must have gathered evidence that it was fake, just like today.”
“Your plan was clever, but you knew… didn’t you? That it would put you in danger.”
“That’s something I had to be prepared for. Not everything in this world unfolds peacefully or safely.”
“That’s not true.”
Leto spoke firmly.
“No matter what happens, the most important thing to keep in mind is safety. Especially in front of the Chancellor. On that point, I won’t compromise.”
I thought over his words carefully. No matter how I looked at it, I reached the same conclusion. I asked cautiously:
“Were you worried?”
“…Then why else would I step in here?”
“Well… to scold me?”
For a moment, Leto seemed at a loss for words. He let out a shallow sigh and muttered:
“I suppose I am a bit frustrated.”
Even if he was frustrated, what could I do? His expression was always like a slab of ice.
Noticing my gaze, he spoke more gently:
“I’d like you not to do such things in the future. I don’t want you in dangerous situations.”
I could feel it. He really was worried about me. Somehow, I felt a little guilty.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you any worry.”
“Good. Even now, that’s a relief. By the way… were you always this bold?”
I’m not particularly timid. But the reason I could act so boldly today…
“I trusted Your Majesty.”
“…What?”
“I thought that even if I became the Chancellor’s target, You would protect me.”
He asked, almost to confirm:
“You trusted me and acted on that?”
“You said I was your ‘wife.’”
He might have laughed, thinking it was ridiculous—why attach so much significance to words. But I wanted to say it. To show that I wasn’t acting recklessly.
“That’s why I trusted you. Even if it’s just in name, we are husband and wife.”
Leto’s eyes widened—so wide it seemed impossible to get any wider—and his gaze felt like it could pierce me.
Had I overstepped, perhaps, by calling us ‘husband and wife’?
“Are you angry?”
“No.”
“You seem angry.”
“Do you want me to be angry?”
“No, I just mean your expression looks angry.”
His eyes trembled slightly, lips pressed together. If he wasn’t angry, what was this?
Finally realizing, Leto quickly softened his expression and averted his gaze.
“Just… surprised, that’s all.”
He brushed his face with the palm of his hand.
“…I’ll fix my expression.”
“Fix it? Then…”
I lightly touched the center of his forehead with my fingertips.
“The wrinkle between your brows.”
“…!”
“It makes you look angry.”
“….”
“You said you’d fix it.”
In that instant, he froze like a statue. Had I done something unnecessary? I gently withdrew my hand, but he grabbed it and pulled me closer.
Was it my imagination, or was his face slightly flushed? His hand felt warmer than before.
Feeling a little embarrassed, I spoke first.
“Anyway, I’ll act more cautiously from now on.”
“No. Do as you wish.”
“….”
“You said you trust me. Trust me and act as you want.”
‘Huh?’
I felt a strange flutter, as if I had suddenly become someone special to him. A ridiculous feeling, yet…
Out of nowhere, Leto asked:
“Have you heard of the ‘Empress’s Garden’?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“You wouldn’t know, being buried in work all the time. It’s a rose garden between the Imperial Palace and the Empress’s quarters.”
“I see.”
“Want to go?”
“Now?”
“Yeah.”
“Is this an order?”
“No. A suggestion.”
So I could refuse—but I was intrigued. Even the name sounded enticing.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
The Empress’s Garden was indeed on the way to the Empress’s quarters. The garden gate, usually tightly closed, was opened for us.
Creeeak—
“Wow…”
I couldn’t help but exclaim. Red roses bloomed everywhere, their dizzying fragrance sweeping over us.
‘It feels like we’ve stepped into a bouquet.’
It was just the two of us in the garden. Perhaps it was reserved exclusively for royalty. How many people could even witness such beauty? It felt like a privilege wasted if it went unseen.
“But why is it called the ‘Empress’s Garden’?”
“My father, the Emperor, had it made for my mother.”
I see… The two must have had a very close relationship. The Emperor didn’t remarry even after his wife’s early death.
“The late Empress liked red roses, I suppose.”
“More than that, it’s symbolic. My mother’s appearance was unique.”
“Unique?”
“Red hair, violet eyes.”
“Oh.”
Suddenly, it all made sense.
In the Set Empire, red hair was rare, violet eyes even rarer. Someone with both traits was considered precious—extraordinary, even.
And the most notable example… was Meril Esteda.
There was a reason Leto favored her. He must have seen how the late Emperor valued the Empress.
Leto would make a good husband. Just seeing how he worried about me earlier proves he isn’t entirely cold.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because I think you’ll take good care of the next Empress—after me.”
“What?”
He stopped in his tracks, as if he’d heard something impossible.
Swallowing hard, he asked me:
“I’m curious about something.”
“Go ahead.”
“You’re handling the Empress’s duties well, you can’t return home, there’s no man… so why do you so badly want this divorce?”
“Does the reason matter?”
“It does.”
There were countless reasons.
I was still wary of Leto. In the original story, he meets Meril and changes. Until then, I couldn’t afford to relax.
‘So… living as good colleagues with him? Impossible.’
Meril Esteda’s presence changes everything. I have no desire to interfere in their love.
Even if I conceded a thousand times and Leto came to like me, that would be the only small problem.
Meril wouldn’t join the Goddess War.
Then both the Imperial family and, more importantly, my life would be at risk. I never wanted to be on a battlefield in the first place.
But I couldn’t say that. I skirted the truth.
“I have to live my own life too.”
“Your life?”
“Yes. I’ve never dreamed of being an Empress. It doesn’t suit me.”
“You don’t know yourself well.”
“I’m grateful for being recognized as Empress, but I don’t want such a dazzling and fierce life.”
“Then what do you think suits you?”
“I want a stable and peaceful life, first and foremost.”
“And?”
“And…?”
“Keep talking. Specifically. How do you want your peace?”
I had never imagined it, but I tried to articulate it:
“Hmm… a small teahouse on a quiet beach. I’d welcome guests, read, and do research. Ah, studying herbal medicine would be helpful to the empire too.”
Even imagining it brought peace. A simple life, contributing to the world through research. Nothing more could I ask for.
Leto was silent as I described my dream. I guessed why and let out a small chuckle.
“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Unrealistic. The shop wouldn’t survive without customers.”
Yet Leto asked something unexpected:
“Are you alone there?”
“Hmm… I’m not sure. If I’m lucky, someone might be there. If not, it doesn’t matter.”
“If lucky, someone…”
He rummaged through the flowerbed, disregarding the thorns.
Among the flowers, he found a white rose and handed it to me.
“Thank you.”
“Is that really enough? The beach, the teahouse, the herbal research?”
“…For now.”
“Alright.”
Alright, what does that mean?
Perhaps Leto was uneasy. He still didn’t know about Meril. He just disliked leaving the Empress’s seat vacant.
We continued walking through the garden.
The scent of the white rose was subtle, understated compared to the red roses. Feeling uplifted, I smiled at him.
“Soon, Your Majesty will find a wonderful woman too.”
“….”
“Trust me.”
A few steps later, he disappeared beside me. I turned, startled.
He stood frozen, his face shocked.
Meanwhile, the Chancellor remained alone in a dark room. A shadow entered.
“You’ve captured Baron Oran, I hear?”
Even from the voice, I knew.
“Dante.”
“It’s unfortunate, Your Excellency. Baron Oran could have been a good source of funds.”
“Watch your words!”
Dante raised both hands in surrender. The Chancellor sprang to his feet, pointing at him.
“You were only supposed to deliver the letter to Livia! How could this reach the Emperor?!”
The Chancellor stepped right up to Dante’s chin.
“Dante, did you deliver the letter properly?”
“I swear by the Goddess. I delivered it only to Her Majesty the Empress, where no one could see.”
“So the secret of the Goddess’s Snowflake hasn’t leaked?”
“Impossible. Only a handful of priests know about it, and they couldn’t speak even if they wanted to. If caught, Your Excellency would have their tongue cut out immediately.”
All true. The Chancellor collapsed onto the sofa.
“That woman—”
“The Empress?”
“Yes. That woman… she seems completely different from the old Livia.”
Dante laughed in disbelief.
“Wasn’t it Your Excellency who proclaimed her resurrection?”
“At the time, I thought her resurrection was a true Goddess’s miracle. Miracles do happen, albeit rarely.”
“True, but this is strange. She’s changed so drastically. Almost like a different person. Dante… does the current Livia feel real to you?”
For Dante, feeling had a special meaning. He could sense the Goddess’s power directly—a divine power surpassing even the Chancellor’s.
Dante gave a cryptic smile.
“Yes. I can feel the Goddess’s power in her.”
“It’s not false, right?”
“Safe to say it isn’t.”
“Understood. Go out for now.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
Dante bowed and turned. Just before leaving, he stopped.
“Your Excellency, what will you do if she isn’t truly the resurrected Empress?”
The Chancellor smiled wryly.
“Resurrection doesn’t matter. Whether to kill or spare her, we’ll only know when the time comes.”
“…Understood.”
Simple logic. If anyone obstructed his path, he wouldn’t let them pass. Even if she resurrected with the Goddess’s power.
Dante quietly left the room, thinking:
“I didn’t lie to the Chancellor. I can feel the Goddess’s power from her. And it’s strong.”
This power hadn’t been present in the old Livia. Not in anyone in this empire.
A curious smile spread across Dante’s lips.
“Empress Livia, huh… I should find out more.”
