Chapter 77
“What is this?”
Charles, while processing the documents brought before her, lifted up a single sheet of paper.
“Why is a request for an interview here?”
Leconde, her exclusive adjutant, glanced at the paper and let out a short exclamation.
“Ah. A ship that docked yesterday submitted a request for an interview.”
“It’s not my paperwork. Take it away.”
“Ah, it’s for the Captain.”
Charles’s eyes narrowed.
Under her suspicious gaze—one that seemed to ask if he was trying to dump work on her—Leconde hurriedly added,
“They said they know the Captain. That you’ll understand if you read it.”
“There’s more than one person who says that.”
The bitterness from the previous incident with Marquis Rendezvous had not yet faded.
Sensing his superior’s mood souring, Leconde spoke again.
“The shipowner is someone named ‘Allen.’”
“So?”
“Y-You don’t know him?”
“I don’t.”
Leconde pulled a notebook from his pocket and checked what he had written down.
That was correct. Allen.
But judging by Charles’s indifferent face, she did not seem to be pretending.
“Well, Captain. It may be rude to ask about your personal affairs, but… do you perhaps have a debt relationship?”
“A debt relationship? Did I lend someone money?”
“No. That is, Captain….”
That you borrowed money.
Charles stared at Leconde as if dumbfounded.
“I have plenty of money.”
“A-Ah, I know. But they spoke so confidently. They said the Princess owes their shipowner a debt.”
I owe a debt?
Frowning, Charles checked the request form.
In the reason section, it simply said ‘debt,’ which irritated her quite a bit.
Just seeing it made her mood turn foul—so perhaps she did remember something.
“…Leconde. What did you say the shipowner’s name was?”
“Allen.”
“……”
After a moment of thought, Charles let out a scoff.
The Knoxdam sea region. A shattered sailing ship. Bound pirates. Wolfman’s sword embedded in the deck. And the handkerchief tied to the sword’s hilt.
‘Where did you come up with such a senseless alias.’
The handsome blond man who had danced with her at the ball.
“Is he someone you know?”
“No.”
Charles folded the application in half and tossed it to the side of her desk.
Then she picked up the next document.
“How would I know such a petty fellow?”
“It’s a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding!”
Last night, when she waited with the Saintess for the rain to stop.
Neither of them could sleep, so they talked about this and that.
“President Hazel said so. That Your Majesty gets lonely easily.”
“…Me?”
“She said that on a rainy day, Your Majesty brought a pillow and came to see her?”
“……”
He certainly had gone to Hazel’s room before.
He was eight years old. Not long after entering the temple.
Because ten-year-old Kayla, who shared the same room, would become frightened on rainy days and look for her parents.
“Arlend, I want to go to the President. I’ll ask her if I can go home.”
“Crying won’t solve anything.”
“…How can you say that? Arlend, you’re heartless!”
She cried all night, begging him to go together to the President. There was no way his eardrums could survive.
So he had gone to Hazel in the middle of the night to ask her to deal with Kayla. That was all.
That woman. To think she would embellish it like that and tell the Saintess.
And moreover—
“…She has my collectibles?”
“Yes. In a small wooden box. But I couldn’t open it because I didn’t get Your Majesty’s permission. Later, could you perhaps take a few out and show me?”
Collectibles from his childhood.
Considering his usual collection habits, there was no doubt that very few of them were normal.
‘I should visit Hazel soon.’
Whether Hazel’s collection would remain in this world or not—he would decide then.
Arlend looked over the orderly conference hall.
“Then, the ministers’ opinions….”
Among the many ministers gathered, Marquis Rendezvous was nowhere to be seen.
Had he said he would be absent due to urgent matters?
Here and there, empty seats belonged to nobles who had informed them of same-day absences.
‘I should have it investigated.’
What had gotten into the other nobles today as well?
The meeting hall, which by now should have been in chaos, was quiet.
Had they finally grown up?
“We shall conclude today’s meeting here.”
The meeting ended in a calm atmosphere.
Arlend left the conference hall with Evon and Henkel.
‘Come to think of it.’
Arlend briefly halted his steps and looked around.
It was about time for Ari to finish her work at the chapel and linger nearby to see his face.
‘She’s not here.’
But for three days now.
Ever since the day he stayed up all night and escorted Ari to Prodinta Palace, he had not seen her.
He knew from daily reports that nothing had happened to her.
But it bothered him slightly that she seemed to have disappeared only from his sight.
Following the Emperor’s gaze, Evon and Henkel also scanned the surroundings.
There was nothing.
“Your Majesty, is something the matter?”
“It’s nothing.”
After answering Evon’s question, Arlend resumed walking as if nothing were wrong.
Then he addressed Evon behind him.
“…Chancellor, is the Saintess continuing her lessons?”
“Yes. She attended yesterday as well. She is very diligent, so she learns quickly. She remembers what she learned that day. If there is something she does not understand, she studies it separately and asks in the next lesson whether she was correct.”
Evon spoke proudly.
At first, he had worried whether he could even hold lessons in the same space as the Saintess.
But since she approached her studies with such passion, he had come to enjoy teaching her.
“I see.”
Though Arlend replied in a calm voice, his eyebrows twitched faintly.
She attended lessons yesterday as well.
He already knew, but hearing it directly did not make him feel particularly good.
Everything was the same as usual—except that seeing him had been omitted from her schedule.
For a moment, he thought, ‘Then the morning lessons…,’ but corrected himself.
The shock from the mirror had not yet faded.
‘There isn’t something wrong, is there.’
There had been one or two times when she suddenly disappeared.
But the fact that this was after the day she collapsed bothered him.
He had been thinking of going to see the Saintess tomorrow, when someone approached him from behind.
“Your Majesty the Emperor.”
“Marquis Pradan?”
It was Marquis Pradan, Siana’s father.
A leading figure among the pro-Emperor nobles.
For generations, the prestigious House Pradan had served the Emperor and believed sacred power to be the greatest thing in the world.
Thus, Marquis Pradan had often cast the Emperor sudden pleased smiles.
But he had never followed behind the Emperor and spoken to him like this.
What could it be?
Henkel’s green eyes and Evon’s purple eyes sharpened as they assessed the Marquis.
“Your Majesty, to think I heard the news so late.”
Marquis Pradan looked extremely pleased.
Arlend, not understanding, simply looked at him.
But seeing the Emperor’s beautiful appearance up close, the Marquis grew even more excited and continued.
“You rejected all those marriage proposals, so I thought you had no interest in such matters. As expected. It seems ordinary people did not satisfy you.”
The young ones said they were hiding the rumor—but could such a thing truly be hidden?
The meeting between the Emperor and the Saintess had spread quickly among the nobles outside the imperial palace.
The Saintess is in a romantic relationship with the Emperor.
Upon hearing that story, the faction of noble aristocrats trembled, and the previous meeting concluded easily in favor of the pro-Emperor faction.
The Saintess, who possessed the strongest sacred power in the world, and the Emperor, who possessed the strongest sacred power in Zendal.
Where could one find a more perfect pair?
Marquis Pradan grinned as he spoke.
“If you are close enough to greet the morning together, would it not be fitting to hold an engagement ceremony at this opportunity?”
“…With whom does this emperor hold an engagement ceremony?”
Marriage proposals and the like.
That alone was unwelcome.
And yet rumors unknown to him were being spoken as though they were facts from the Marquis’s mouth.
Suppressing his rising irritation, Arlend smiled and asked.
Marquis Pradan, seeing the Emperor like that, put on a sly expression.
“Who else but the Saintess?”
“The Saintess?”
Startled by the unexpected answer, Arlend repeated it.
Why was the Saintess being mentioned here?
“So, about that….”
Marquis Pradan glanced around.
After confirming there were no other nobles nearby, he lowered his voice.
“If you are to proceed with an engagement ceremony, would it be acceptable for our House Pradan to sponsor it?”
It was a chance to properly introduce House Pradan to the Saintess.
Marquis Pradan’s expectations swelled inwardly.
The Emperor smiled faintly at him.
Indeed, one could say he was the man who had stolen the Saintess’s heart.
A face that drew admiration without effort.
Then, the Emperor I serve is like this—
“Marquis.”
Like this—
Was he someone who emitted such a fierce aura?
Wondering if he had said something wrong, Pradan examined the Emperor’s expression.
“Explain that story in more detail.”
The Emperor did not look pleased.
‘How embarrassing—!’
A dating rumor!
That I spend such and such nights every evening with His Perfect Majesty!
My face burned so hot I couldn’t lift my head while walking around.
Sob. In the end, I’ve left a blemish on His Perfect Majesty’s flawless life.
‘I didn’t want to leave one….’
And I couldn’t possibly consult His Majesty about such a shameful matter.
Fortunately, the organization Dune belongs to agreed to help suppress the rumor.
So I decided to stay as quiet as possible.
‘And refrain from going to see His Majesty’s face for a while.’
If I went to see him and someone witnessed it—
Even a rumor dying down like dry firewood would surely burst back into flames.
So yes, I can endure not seeing His Majesty’s face.
“I can endure it….”
I trembled my legs while staring at the photo cards neatly placed on my desk.
How many days had it been already?
I think I’m experiencing withdrawal symptoms from His Majesty….
“Good thing I made photo cards.”
If I didn’t have these, I would have already gone to the Main Palace.
“Number 3 turned out the best.”
The coronation outfit. Insane.
This photo card was the work of Sheel, the painter introduced to me by the genius sculptor Coaru, who said we would get along well.
“Customer, I’m sincere too. About His Majesty the Emperor’s appearance.”
Even his eye for beauty was excellent.
The result of Sheel’s devoted admiration, his genius skill, and the generous funding of Antoine Confectionery was remarkable.
Even though it’s a print, each and every line looks as if it were painted with a brush—such delicacy!
Everyone in town, come and admire His Majesty’s portrait….
Wait.
“…If I ask Sheel to make a life-size standee, would that be possible?”
I sprang to my feet at the sudden idea and walked to the door.
Why didn’t I think of this sooner!
“I’ll commission Sheel immediately to make—”
I flung the door open energetically, then froze.
…Did I unconsciously ask for a life-size standee?
But… as expected of a genius painter….
“Where in the world could there be such a perfect life-size standee—”
“Saintess.”
“Uwaaa—!”
