Chapter 18: Oh, Poor Smith

“Ah! Miss, Wendy has received a marriage proposal from the blacksmith at the forge.”

Amber, who had been lecturing endlessly a moment ago, spoke up as if she’d just remembered something.

So it had happened again this time.

“Did Wendy accept?”

Wendy was a maid serving Reneb at the Siren Marquis’ estate.

Around the time Reneb became engaged to Lucius and began preparations for their wedding, Wendy had also received a proposal.

Since commoners’ wedding preparations were shorter than those of royalty, she could have married right away.

But Wendy postponed the marriage, saying it would be insubordination to marry before the lady she served. That was why Smith had been frustrated all this time.

“She said there’s no way a maid should marry before her lady. She told Smith that they’d marry after you returned to Paradium.”

Reneb pressed her fingers to her forehead.

“Oh, poor Smith.”

In the past, the wedding had been postponed for about a year—but in this life, it looked like it would be delayed for more than three years.

Reneb decided she should write to Wendy, telling her it would be best for anyone who could go first to do so.

Afterward, Amber shared various updates about the Marquis’ estate and the state of the Paradium Empire.

Reneb focused on one piece of news: the condition of the First Prince.

“Kiernen, my throat feels a bit scratchy from talking so much. Could you bring me some tea?”

“Of course. I’ll prepare some flower tea with honey.”

Kiernen quickly responded and left the parlor.

Although Reneb trusted Kiernen to some extent, she was still someone from Vascher. Of course, if the First Prince died, news would spread to Vascher quickly—but there was no need to involve Kiernen in Paradium’s important matters.

“Amber, what’s the condition of His Highness, the First Prince?”

Reneb lowered her voice, and Amber, perceptive as ever, quietly replied.

“He’s lost a lot of weight, and sometimes he stares off into space, talking nonsense.”

“I see.”

Since the Siren Marquis had been staying at the Marquis’ estate in the capital recently, Amber would have heard rumors about the First Prince.

Though she was a maid in a high-ranking noble family and sensitive to gossip, this was also proof that the First Prince’s illness was worse than Reneb had thought.

“The atmosphere is hushed, but it seems they see no hope.”

Amber shook her head.

Reneb lowered her eyelashes and thought:

‘Could it be Strudel again this time?’

Strudel was a pastry popular among commoners. After trying it by chance during an inspection trip, the First Prince had grown fond of it.

He especially liked Monstrudel filled with opium seeds rather than fruit or meat.

Opium seeds were crispy and sweet, enhancing the texture of the pastry—but the problem was their addictive quality.

‘The Monstrudel my brother liked,’ she thought.

Shortly after the First Prince died from an unknown illness, someone at a royal meal had remarked:

“Perhaps the First Prince died from opium addiction.”

Reneb had suspected the danger of Monstrudel even back then. It was too late once he had passed away, but at least she had recognized the cause.

“Lady, I’ve brought the tea.”

At that moment, Kiernen returned to the parlor with a tray.

“Thank you, Kiernen.”

Reneb, soothing her throat with the sweet flower tea, sat at her desk and took up her parchment and quill.

Intervening unnecessarily could lead to bad results. Still, the conscience of a mother who had once had a son pushed her to inform the Empress.

“Phew…”

Reneb snapped the book she had been reading shut with a thud and stretched deeply.

Twisting her waist to look behind her, she noticed the sky outside had already been painted in sunset hues.

While gazing at the Vascher cityscape in the distance, a servant arrived.

“His Majesty requests you to join him for dinner.”

Reneb had also wanted to express her gratitude to Icar for the dress gift, so she hurriedly prepared to go out.

Unlike the previous dining room, which had been almost as spacious as a grand banquet hall, tonight’s table was smaller, seating about ten.

Of course, the previous dining room had been enormous, so even this smaller one was still quite spacious.

The table was piled with delicacies. Even Reneb, accustomed to the luxurious palace cuisine, was wide-eyed at the spread.

“Why the long face? Is something wrong with the food?”

Icar tilted his head at her reaction.

“Not at all. There’s just so much food that I’m not sure where to start.”

“That’s a relief.”

Reneb unfolded her napkin on her lap as Icar dismissed the servants.

“I thought it’d be easier to speak comfortably this way.”

Reneb nodded and surveyed the dishes, first transferring some green beans to her plate.

“You’re not very fond of meat, are you? Last time, you seemed to prefer vegetables as well.”

Icar said this while taking a large slice of lamb.

Reneb couldn’t remember what she had eaten the last time she dined with him—but he seemed to remember everything.

She mentally noted his impressive memory.

“Not really. I also enjoy fish.”

She answered briefly and picked up a green bean with her fork. Icar slid a plate of fish toward her.

“Protein is an essential nutrient, good for muscle growth too.”

Reneb nodded instinctively. A diet rich in meat had clearly given him his muscular physique.

She couldn’t help recalling Icar’s bare body at the hot spring, and her ears and cheeks flushed immediately.

“Feeling warm? Your cheeks are red.”

Icar didn’t miss it and asked casually.

The room was comfortably temperate—not hot, not cold. She couldn’t blame the color on the temperature.

As Reneb fanned her face to compose herself, Icar raised his voice slightly:

“It’s a bit warm in here.”

The servants waiting outside opened the windows and quickly withdrew.

Unlike Paradium, Vascher had a significant temperature difference between day and night. The evening breeze through the open window quickly restored the natural color to Reneb’s cheeks.

“Better now?”

“Yes, thanks. I appreciate your concern, Your Majesty.”

Reneb quickly thanked him and popped a green bean into her mouth. The texture was perfectly crisp and the seasoning spot-on.

“Wow, this is really delicious!”

“That’s good. Bringing in a renowned chef from Paradium was worth it.”

Reneb suddenly wondered why someone so considerate hadn’t married in his previous life.

“Your Majesty, do you not have a fiancée yet?”

Icar took a sip of red wine and coughed lightly.

“Are you okay?”

It wasn’t water, and choking on wine would have been problematic. Reneb quickly handed him a napkin, and he wiped his mouth, saying:

“Why do you ask?”

Succession was paramount for an emperor. That was why Lucius, besides Empress Reneb, had kept a mistress.

Recalling this made Reneb feel queasy, but she shook off the unpleasant thought.

“I was just a little curious. Royal marriages usually happen early.”

Icar nodded as if agreeing.

“I just haven’t found a strategically suitable partner yet. There’s no other reason.”

A strategically suitable partner…

“What are the criteria for such a partner, Your Majesty?”

“Curious?”

Leaning on the table, Icar looked at her lazily. Reneb had asked casually, but now she felt compelled to answer.

“Yes, I am curious.”

She replied briefly and popped a roasted eggplant into her mouth.

“You know that Vascher is expanding its territory, right?”

Reneb withheld her answer. She had long been in the habit of fully understanding the intent behind a question before replying. Even a small slip could be exploited by ambitious nobles.

“You don’t have to answer,” Icar continued, downing the remaining red wine.

“Expanding territory means always being on alert for war.”

Reneb nodded slightly. Icar added:

“It’s not because I pity a wife waiting anxiously for a husband who might die at any moment.”

Reneb agreed. Though he occasionally showed a relaxed side, Icar had always been a cold, calculating ruler.

A large roasted turkey was placed before her. Watching it, Reneb realized:

‘Strategically suitable partner.’

The person meeting Lucius’ criteria was herself. Lucius needed the military strength and the backing of the powerful Siren Marquis family, which was why he married Reneb.

‘He said he loved me… and yet, Lucius, you rascal.’

Reneb’s fists trembled as she belatedly understood the truth.

“Have you finished eating already?”

Icar asked, noticing her dark expression. Reneb glanced at her empty hands and nodded.

His brows furrowed.

“Trying to control your weight? I wouldn’t recommend it. You need to eat well and build your strength.”

He placed a veal steak in front of her.

“Don’t want to faint like last time and put me in a difficult spot again, do you?”

“…Following your advice, I’ll supplement more protein.”

Reneb quickly composed herself, cut the veal, and chewed determinedly.

Seeing this, Icar’s lips curled slightly in satisfaction.

Reneb, seeing his pleased expression, stuffed a large serving of lettuce into her mouth. It was a bit improper, but she didn’t care.

“You’re like a rabbit,” Icar murmured, resting his chin on the table.

“A rabbit this big…”

Reneb was about to ask where, then remembered the giant rabbit Icar had mentioned in the cave. She puffed her cheek and chewed, earning a small chuckle from him.

Reneb, thinking he was teasing her, narrowed her eyes and glared, chewing her food fiercely.

“Good to see you eating well,” Icar said approvingly.