Chapter 16
Two hours earlier.
In the dark underground dungeon, Baron Oran leaned against the wall. His cheeks had grown hollow, and his eyes were filled with terror.
Leto’s interrogation drained the blood from a man’s face. He did not resort to torture or violence. On the contrary, he observed every courtesy owed to a noble without omission. And yet—
I’d rather he beat me.
The questions were razor-sharp, each one striking straight at the heart. Whenever Oran tried to keep his mouth shut, Leto’s gaze froze him solid, as if it might tear him apart. There was even that predator’s sneer, as though he were about to devour his prey.
None of it was bearable in a clear state of mind.
What on earth is the High Priest doing? He promised he’d handle things if something went wrong!
It had been the High Priest who first proposed this scheme. One day, he had come to visit Oran and shown him a glittering powder.
—“This is ‘The Goddess’s Snowflake,’ obtained from the Grand Temple.”
—“The Goddess’s Snowflake?”
—“Indeed. It contains the miracle of the Goddess. My own divine power, as well as that of the High Priest, proves it—so you may trust me.”
—“Th-then why would you give something so precious to me…?”
—“From what I’ve learned, Baron Oran, you seem to be in need of business capital. You’re considering a fur trade, are you not?”
—“Yes. That’s true, but…”
—“Do you know what matters most in noble commerce?”
—“I’m not sure…”
—“Reputation. Nobles care less about what they buy than from whom and how they buy it.”
It had sounded convincing.
—“And this powder will grant you that reputation. Well? What do you say?”
—“B-but why would Your Eminence offer me such an opportunity?”
—“No special reason. First, the will of the Goddess. Second, pure goodwill. And third—just a small token of sincerity from you.”
“Sincerity,” of course, meant money. Oran accepted the proposal, agreeing to hand over a portion of his business profits.
I trusted the High Priest and went through with it. And now this—putting on a show with nothing but powdered stone?
Oran’s jaw trembled with rage.
That’s it. Tomorrow I’ll report everything to His Majesty. I’ll tell him it was all the High Priest’s doing. I won’t take the blame for this alone!
“Baron Oran.”
“W-who’s there?!”
A shadow approached through the pale gloom. Oran recognized the man standing beyond the bars.
“You’re… the Chief Priest?”
Dante looked down at Oran with pity.
“D-did the High Priest send you? He said he’d save me—get me out of here!”
“……”
“I can’t last even one more day in this place. I’ll wither away before I can speak to the Emperor. Please—please get me out.”
“Yes. I understand how you feel.”
Dante knelt on one knee and offered a gentle, almost beautiful smile.
“His Eminence asked me to deliver this.”
He held out a small wooden box. Oran snatched it up eagerly.
“This… what is it?”
“A gift, he said. One that will let you leave this prison.”
“A gift?”
Oran lifted his head—but Dante was already gone.
Absentmindedly, he opened the box.
And in that instant—
Shhk.
Something shot out of it, lodging itself in the back of his neck.
“Huh…?”
Oran reached up to the stinging spot. His fingers brushed against something small and sharp.
“This is—”
It was an extremely thin needle.
But Oran never truly saw it.
His breath had already stopped.
I overslept for the first time in a while. Perhaps because it was the morning after our night together—no one came to wake me.
Now that I thought about it, the bed felt empty. Leto had definitely been sleeping beside me.
I called Madame Mare and asked,
“When did His Majesty leave?”
“He departed suddenly around sunrise.”
“That early?”
“Well…”
Madame Mare hesitated.
“I didn’t wish to trouble you as soon as you woke, but… Baron Oran is said to have died in the underground prison last night.”
“…Baron Oran?”
“Yes. An urgent message arrived at dawn. His Majesty went there immediately.”
“…I see.”
So the High Priest made the first move.
“How did he die? It wasn’t suicide, was it?”
“No. It appears to have been murder. I don’t know the details.”
Leto must have invested considerable effort into that interrogation—only for it to come to nothing.
After breakfast, I headed to the office. Just as I was about to begin work, my gaze kept drifting toward the connecting door.
Is he in his office right now?
Not that my presence would help—but I was worried.
I knocked and opened the door. Leto was seated at his desk.
“That’s unusual,” he said casually. “You actually opened this door.”
“I heard the news. Baron Oran was murdered.”
“That’s right. Rumors travel fast.”
He signed a document, the pen scratching sharply across the page.
So he relieves stress by working. Just like me.
Without pause, Leto opened another file. I placed my hand over it.
“I think you should rest.”
He looked up and smiled as if it were painted onto his face. Then he took my hand and kissed the back of it.
“If I stay still, my thoughts start to twist.”
He returned his gaze to the paperwork. I placed my hand on it again.
“Even so, please rest. Even for a moment.”
I knew from experience—working out your anger through labor isn’t healthy. Especially for the mind.
Only then did Leto place the quill in its stand. He shrugged once and stood.
“Fine. I should listen.”
We sat side by side on the sofa. He turned toward me, resting an arm along the backrest and propping his head up.
His clothes and hair were slightly disheveled. He must have been consumed by the Oran matter since dawn.
Good. Let’s talk.
“How did he die?”
“It’s not something pleasant for a lady to hear.”
“I’ll learn eventually.”
“…It appears to have been poisoning. When the body was examined, there was a small wound on the neck—like a puncture from a needle.”
“And the guards saw nothing?”
“Unfortunately. We’ll need to investigate further.”
“Poison is still a form of medicine. It wouldn’t be easy to obtain.”
“Which means it was done by someone with considerable influence.”
The High Priest, then. And he used a highly skilled subordinate.
“It doesn’t seem like there’s anything I can help with.”
“You’ve already helped enough. Don’t burden yourself.”
“You’ll continue the investigation, right?”
“Of course. Oran’s death complicates things, but we can’t simply bury it.”
He spoke as calmly as ever.
No matter how arbitrary he seemed, he truly was the Emperor. When it mattered most, he chose to bear the pain alone.
I reached out and touched his collar. He flinched slightly.
I fastened the loosened button, straightened his collar, and smoothed his rumpled hair.
“Just… to cheer you on.”
I was about to pull my hand away when my fingers brushed his ear. He gently leaned his cheek into my touch.
For some reason… it’s hard to pull away.
With his eyes closed, he murmured,
“Yes. That helps more than you know.”
The Fantasia Guild, the only magic guild in the Set Empire.
Guild Master Luminos was brewing tea in his room. He was a large man, broad-built, with a thick beard.
Knock, knock.
At the sound, Luminos called out as if he’d been waiting.
“Come in!”
The door opened, revealing the visitor—Louis Matrion.
“Welcome. It’s been a while.”
“Have you been well?”
They exchanged a handshake and an embrace. Luminos led Louis to the sofa and offered him tea.
The tea was bitter and sour, made from wild herbs grown only in the northern monster regions.
“This tea brings back memories.”
“From when you were a big shot in the guild?”
“You’re still foul-mouthed, I see.”
“Oh dear. My apologies before such a refined Marquis.”
They were old friends. Once, they had attended the Imperial Academy together, then worked in the guild after graduation.
They had always known—Louis, Sean, and Luminos—that one of the three would become Guild Master. They were the finest mages in the Empire.
“I heard you fought with Sean.”
Louis brought it up casually.
“Ugh, what’s wrong with that bastard?”
“Sean’s always been like that.”
“He went crazy and got the new recruits drunk! At a time like this! Acting like some senior big shot! Do you know how hard it was to stop them from quitting?”
“Yes, yes. Sean was at fault. And you handled the cleanup.”
Louis gently soothed him. He knew Luminos was just as hot-tempered as Sean.
“Sorry, but I really can’t stand your twin brother.”
Luminos downed his tea like liquor and refilled the cup.
“He probably just wanted to get close to the newcomers.”
“I know that! The problem is that he causes accidents. That idiot has no awareness that he’s a mage.”
Louis didn’t press the matter. He knew it was pointless. Instead, he moved on to the real reason for his visit.
“Luminos. I came today because of an imperial matter.”
“The imperial family? The Emperor himself?”
Luminos asked warily. By principle, mages kept their distance from royalty—and from the Grand Temple as well.
And one more thing: Luminos didn’t like Leto.
“Yes. The imperial couple wishes to enter the ‘Forest of Mages.’”
“The Forest of Mages? Why there?”
“They’re searching for a particular plant.”
“Plants? All of a sudden?”
“I can’t explain in detail, but it’s for the sake of the Empire. If necessary, I’ll stand as guarantor.”
“Hm… Even so, the two of them alone? Without a mage?”
“No. Just the two of them, plus a minimum number of knights.”
“No.”
Luminos cut him off sharply.
“The Forest of Mages is practically our sacred ground. Letting in royalty is already debatable—now you want to bring knights? Absolutely not.”
“So royalty alone is acceptable?”
“…Better than letting knights in.”
Oh?
Louis marveled inwardly.
The previous afternoon, Leto had summoned him and explained the situation, then added—
—“Livia and I, along with some knights, will go.”
—“Even knights? That might be too much.”
—“Yes. It probably is.”
Louis hadn’t understood at first. Then Leto explained carefully—
—“If the Guild Master accepts immediately, it would hurt his pride. So we need him to refuse at least once—let him save face. Don’t you agree?”
—“Then the knights were never meant to—”
—“There’s no need for knights when I’m going.”
It was a way of exploiting a mage’s pride—one that even Louis, himself a mage, found borderline arrogant.
“…Fine. Royalty only. That can’t be helped.”
Luminos added sternly,
“But absolutely no knights. Go back and tell the Emperor clearly. Tell him Guild Master Luminos flatly refused.”
“…Very well. I’ll make sure he understands.”
Louis smirked.
The Emperor wins.
And without Luminos even realizing he’d lost.
I used to think he was a man who couldn’t even cherish his own wife… but since Livia’s revival, he’s changed. He’s finally starting to look like an Emperor.
This time, even Louis had to admit it.
