CHAPTER 48
It was the Emperor himself who had driven Kyle to wander the borderlands.
At his shameless words, the nobles exchanged bewildered looks.
“Your Majesty, if you keep changing your words… many nobles who have been waiting for the banquet will be disappointed.”
At those words, veins bulged at the Emperor’s temples.
“Disappointed? Ah… disappointed at losing the chance to marry into the imperial family, you mean.”
“No, that’s not what I meant…”
“Count Crove, you have two daughters, do you not? Naturally, you’ll attend the banquet?”
The Emperor turned to another noble standing beside him.
“Viscount Ross, you have a daughter as well, don’t you? Surely you can’t miss the chance to become the Emperor’s father-in-law. I see now—I hadn’t considered your feelings.”
The Emperor’s lips curled in a mocking smile as he looked at the nobles, who were wearing troubled expressions.
“What to do…? There’s no shortage of young ladies, but there’s only one Kyle.”
Resting his chin on his hand, the Emperor drew out his words as if pondering.
“Ah, how about this? I’ll grant Kyle a special privilege—he can have multiple wives. Then everyone here will become part of the imperial family, no?”
The Emperor slapped the table and laughed loudly.
“Your Majesty, how can you say such a thing…?”
Disgust filled the nobles’ faces. The Emperor, as if savoring their grimaces, laughed until he was nearly out of breath.
Then his eyes fell on a man staring back at him expressionlessly.
“Ah, that’s right. Duke Bacard. You have no daughters, do you?”
He replied in a dry tone.
“No, Your Majesty. I have no children.”
“What a pity. Had there been a young lady from House Bacard, I would have welcomed her with open arms. Such a shame.”
The Emperor clearly had no intention of engaging in proper conversation.
Unable to bear his sarcasm and feigned deafness any longer, the nobles finally began to leave the audience chamber.
“Lately, His Majesty seems rather strange.”
“Exactly. He’s fine one moment, then says the most ridiculous things the next.”
“Indeed. I never know how to respond to him.”
“‘Fine’? Hardly. He’s only somewhat coherent at times. Don’t you agree, Duke?”
All eyes turned toward Duke Bacard, walking at the back. But he gave no reply.
“What an inscrutable man…” someone murmured under their breath.
Once all the nobles had left, Duke Bacard turned and headed straight for the Emperor’s study.
Stopping midway down a silent corridor, he murmured softly,
“Is it ready?”
Before he even finished, a small door in the wall opened.
“Here it is.”
A small-framed maid handed out a tray from within the wall.
“The amount?”
“As you ordered, slightly reduced.”
“Good. Go back.”
“Yes, Master.”
She disappeared back into the wall, leaving no trace of a door.
Taking the tray, Duke Bacard glanced around once more, then approached the study door and spoke in a low voice.
“Your Majesty, it’s me.”
“Enter.”
The Emperor sat slouched in his chair, looking thoroughly displeased.
“Your Majesty, why are you sitting like this? I worry for your health.”
“As expected, only you, Duke Bacard, care for me. I sat like this through the entire audience just now, yet not one person said a word.”
The Emperor exhaled dryly. His dark, dusky eyes looked even dimmer.
Observing his face, Bacard lowered his head and allowed a faint smile.
When he set down the tray, the Emperor’s face brightened.
“Oh, tea from your household.”
“I thought you might have finished the last batch, so I brought more. I should have come sooner, but there were too many eyes on me… my apologies, Your Majesty.”
“No need to apologize. Who doesn’t know there are hidden eyes everywhere in the palace?”
The Emperor held out his empty teacup.
“Well, fill it to the brim. I was just thinking I might have to come to your estate for more of this tea.”
“Then I brought it at the perfect time.”
Bacard narrowed his already thin eyes.
“Sit, Duke.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
The Emperor took a sip of tea, closed his eyes, and savored it for a moment before swallowing.
“Good. Very good.”
The tea was as clear as water and had no scent. Yet soon, a strong burnt smell began to emanate from the Emperor’s body.
He didn’t notice, and Bacard—long accustomed to it—showed no reaction.
“Your Majesty, today’s gathering must have tired you greatly.”
After a pause, Bacard spoke carefully.
The warm tea made the Emperor’s whole body relax. He leaned deep into his chair and nodded once.
“Nobles are always exhausting. Ah, except for you, of course.”
“Ha ha, do I not also tire you at times?”
“Sometimes. But you also help me unwind like this.”
“Please be generous in your understanding. Everyone works hard for the Bartman Empire.”
The Emperor snorted.
“They? More like for their own houses. That’s why they all want Kyle in their family.”
“Archduke Kyle is someone any noble with a daughter would covet. And…”
Bacard’s eyes flashed sharply.
“…since Archduke Kyle resembles Emperor Ruber so much…”
Before he could finish, the Emperor’s eyes flew open.
“Who? Who does Kyle resemble?”
Bacard quickly bowed his head.
“My apologies, Your Majesty. I spoke out of turn.”
“That damned red hair! So every head with red hair is said to resemble Emperor Ruber? In that case, I should dye mine red too. Then no one will say that again.”
The Emperor had already tried dyeing his hair red several times, but failed each time. No matter what he did, he could never match Ruber’s blazing crimson.
Bacard’s words had struck the Emperor’s inferiority complex dead-on—and the tea’s effects compounded it.
His whole body began to burn with heat. He thought it was his anger at Kyle, who so resembled Ruber.
“Kyle! Kyle! Everyone I meet talks about Kyle!”
“Your Majesty, please calm yourself. It’s bad for your health. Here, have more tea and put your mind at ease.”
The Emperor drained the freshly filled cup in one go.
The tea Bacard had prepared had the effect of heightening agitation.
Now overheated from head to toe, the Emperor soon felt a splitting headache.
“My head… it hurts.”
“What shall we do? Shall I fetch a healer, Your Majesty?”
“No. This is an illness no healer can cure. It’s a sickness of the heart, caused by that wretch Kyle.”
The Emperor pressed his temples hard.
“Your Majesty, have you heard of the Saintess said to reside in the temple?”
“Yes. I’ve heard her foresight is exceptional.”
“That’s right. Some even say she’s the incarnation of the goddess Anish.”
The Emperor, uninterested in such matters, merely nodded once.
“Would you not consider meeting her, Your Majesty?”
“The Saintess? Does she have healing powers?”
“No. Her gift is prophecy.”
“Then why should I meet her?”
“In my humble opinion, her foresight would be of great benefit to you, Your Majesty.”
“In what way?”
Intrigue lit up the Emperor’s eyes.
“To know the future in advance is a great advantage. If you were to keep her by your side, you’d gain the strongest ally of all.”
“Convincing. Why haven’t I thought of that before?”
A satisfied smile replaced his pained expression.
“The future… Suddenly, I’m curious about mine.”
“Would you like to meet her, Your Majesty?”
“Yes, I would.”
“It may be difficult in the palace with so many eyes on you, but at my villa…”
“That’s better. I’m curious to see just how great her gift is. Arrange it quickly.”
“As you command, Your Majesty.”
Bacard drained the rest of the tea, then quietly left the study.
The tea-drunk Emperor closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
As he shut the door, Bacard muttered,
“Yes… just keep eating, sleeping, and relieving yourself while drunk on my tea. I’ll give you as much as you want.”
Licking his dry lips, he walked down the corridor with loud, deliberate steps.
Stopping at the wall where the maid had appeared earlier, this time a man emerged.
“In a week, come to the villa. Make sure no one sees you.”
“Yes, Master.”
The man bowed and quickly departed.
In his right hand, the head of a snake bared its fangs and gleamed.
Bacard let out a long, satisfied breath and resumed walking.
