Episode 9 – A Person Who Devotes Their Body to the Empire
Holden exhaled softly and continued walking.
“Hey, Holden. What do you think?”
Without sparing a glance at his companions following behind, Holden came to a stop.
“I don’t know that person very well, but they don’t seem like a bad one.”
“Oh, come on!”
Handing over the tools he was carrying to one of his comrades, Holden brushed his hands clean.
“I don’t want to judge someone who’s devoted their body to the Empire.”
“Hey… if you say it like that, what does that make us?”
“It’s true. So don’t speak carelessly, even if no one’s around to hear it.”
With half-lidded eyes that seemed to find the world pathetic, Holden walked ahead.
His comrades, exchanging awkward looks, soon followed.
“Hey, wait up!”
What none of the three noticed was that Rosen, who had been in a nearby tree, had overheard everything.
“They say she’s the daughter of the Reaper.”
“Who would ever like a woman like that?”
Those ignorant of the truth always talk the loudest.
Yet even small words like that can easily shake a person’s heart.
Rosen, still leaning against the tree, blinked slowly with heavy eyes.
“I don’t want to judge someone who’s devoted their body to the Empire.”
“I respect the patriotism of someone like you.”
Recalling Holden’s words, Rosen shut her eyes tightly.
“I think you’re an amazing person. Dazzlingly so.”
Swallowing dryly, Rosen’s lips curved faintly upward.
The heaviness in her expression lifted, replaced by a gentle smile.
Even though those words hadn’t been spoken to her directly…
Rosen let the idle gossip drift away, light as air, carried by Holden’s single sentence.
In the distance, Bill was approaching.
Standing up quickly, Rosen dusted off her clothes.
“I’ve come to escort you.”
“Good. Let’s finish this as quickly as possible.”
“Faster than we already are?”
She had already been working at a relentless pace.
Nodding, Rosen flexed her hands, then smiled.
“Something came up that I need to do.”
The foreign war support campaign ended without incident.
The Emperor had a duty to stabilize the Empire’s mood.
Using Rosen’s safe return as a pretext, Lante immediately began preparations for a grand festival.
“I heard the Grand Duke Titania has returned?”
“She achieved great merit in the last war!”
Even with nearly a week left before the festival, the streets buzzed with excitement.
“Thief!”
The shout cut through the noise like an arrow.
“Move!”
“Agh!”
An elderly man stumbled into a wall, groaning in pain, as a man bolted past clutching a bag.
Then—
Neigh!
The thief froze instinctively.
A black horse reared before him, hooves slashing the air.
“Aaaagh!”
The man hit the ground in an instant, pinned under a boot.
Rosen, standing above him with the sun blazing behind her, stared down expressionlessly.
“It’s the Grand Duke Titania!”
Someone shouted, and the crowd’s gazes converged like a volley of arrows.
There stood a woman with lavender hair, radiant in uniform and medals.
As the city guards arrived, Rosen turned without hesitation.
“Ah, wait…!”
The owner of the bag—a young girl—ran forward.
Clutching it to her chest, she looked up at the horse.
Rosen was already seated, reins in hand.
“Thank you, um…”
“Rosen .”
“Lady Rosen …! I’d like to repay you somehow!”
Rosen replied with a single, curt line before riding off.
“No need. I’m running late.”
“Has it already been three months since the revolution began…?”
Walking through the palace corridor, Rosen sank into thought.
So far, things had been relatively peaceful.
The only reason the Emperor could push this idea of a “festival” on the nobles was simple—
his late mother, who had overthrown the former tyrant, had been of common birth.
Having lived beside her for years before entering the palace, the Emperor knew firsthand what poverty felt like.
As Rosen reached the council chamber, she paused to listen to the voices beyond the door.
“If any noble has another petition, speak now.”
“None.”
It was quiet—until a herald’s voice rang out:
“Grand Duke Rosen Barhel Titania, entering!”
The doors opened, and every gaze turned toward her.
Hand over her chest, Rosen bowed respectfully.
“My apologies for the delay, Your Majesty.”
At the head of the room sat the Emperor—
Lante Oberon Castan, ruler of the Castan Empire.
He studied Rosen , noting the bandage still wrapped across her brow.
Her expression was impassive as ever.
“Are you well, Grand Duke Titania?”
Rosen nodded, her lilac bangs shifting slightly.
Her gray eyes met his clear blue ones.
“Your concern is appreciated, Your Majesty.”
A cough broke the air—subtle, but pointed.
Everyone knew her wounds had come from the recent war support mission.
Rosen found an empty seat and spoke.
“I have a proposal, if I may.”
“Go ahead.”
“I suggest raising prices at stores that nobles frequent.
As for those aimed at commoners, maintaining discounts is an excellent idea.”
All eyes fixed on her.
“Conversely, during the festival, stalls run by commoners should raise prices for nobles—”
“Isn’t that unfair, Grand Duke Titania?”
It was Duke Tarhan who interrupted.
Rosen fell silent, and the Emperor watched.
“His Majesty, out of generosity, granted the commoners access to noble establishments—
and now you wish to fatten their purses? That seems… excessive.”
Tarhan drummed his finger against the table, voice dripping with condescension.
“That is not my intent. Even a temporary measure during the festival could ease their financial hardship.”
“If a festival could solve poverty, there’d be none left to solve.”
That insufferable bastard.
Rosen’s jaw tightened, but she kept her composure.
When her eyes met the Emperor’s, his faint blink told her he was thinking the same thing.
“Then, let us hear the others. Do you agree with Duke Tarhan’s view?”
Silence. Which, in this chamber, meant agreement.
Tarhan cleared his throat loudly to draw attention.
“Grand Duke Titania has been away at war, so she must know the current state of things. Isn’t that so?”
“Indeed. Unlike my daughter or the Duke’s own, Her Grace has endured much hardship.”
“Speaking of daughters, I heard the Count of Alpha’s child just gave birth.”
A round of forced congratulations followed, punctuated by clapping that grated on the Emperor’s nerves.
I called them here for a meeting, and they’re having a baby shower.
Rosen merely took a sip of tea, unimpressed.
“Indeed…”
“Yes?”
“I suppose it’s time I considered an heir of my own.”
The nobles’ expressions changed instantly.
The Emperor twitched, as if to say, What did she just say?
Rosen noticed and shrugged lightly.
“The meeting seems to have derailed, Grand Duke.”
“It does, doesn’t it? But then again… this isn’t the first time.”
As the Emperor tried to steer the topic elsewhere, Rosen continued smoothly.
“Well, it’s a personal matter. I’ll handle it myself.”
“If you ever need assistance, my hand is yours, Grand Duke.
Perhaps there’s a young noble or lady who’s caught your eye?”
Tarhan chuckled coarsely.
Rosen toyed with her teacup, scanning the nobles.
Only one person avoided her gaze—Count Take.
Normally, only high nobles can attend such meetings…
But since he joined the war effort, perhaps he’s here to report on medical support.
Rosen stared quietly at him.
“Let’s proceed with the meeting.”
A few awkward coughs followed.
Still, Take never looked her way.
Did I do something wrong…?
It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed—
he simply found her gaze intimidating.
Rosen , unaware, kept staring until the meeting ended.
“Then, let us adjourn for today.”
When the Emperor departed, the nobles began filing out.
As Take rose to leave, Rosen stood as well.
“Welcome back safely, Grand Duke.”
It was Duke Tarhan blocking her path.
What now.
Rosen frowned openly before smoothing her expression.
“Thank you.”
“My daughter prayed day and night for your safe return.”
“You mean Lady Valentina?”
“Yes. She begged me to deliver this…”
He handed her an invitation.
Another tea party?
Rosen skimmed it briefly, her eyes already searching the room.
Take was slipping out.
“She wishes to spend some private time with you, Grand Duke, if you could spare—”
“Understood. Excuse me.”
“Eh?”
Rosen’s swift reply was followed by her just as swift exit.
Tarhan blinked, left standing alone.
“Count Take.”
The voice made him flinch.
Turning slowly, Take forced a calm expression despite his stiff shoulders.
“Yes, Grand Duke Titania.”
“I’d like to ask you something. Do you have a moment?”
“Of course.”
“You have a son, do you not?”
“Ah, yes. All but the youngest are married now…”
His first two sons had long since left home, both well settled near the capital.
Why is she asking about this…?
Rosen continued.
“How old is your youngest?”
“Pardon?”
Take felt blindsided.
He’d planned to slip away quietly after reporting.
Why did this suddenly concern him?
“He’s not a minor, I assume?”
“No, no. He’s been an adult for some time and a fine physician—”
“Then I’d like you to arrange a meeting.”
“What?”
What on earth is she talking about?
Rosen smiled faintly.
“A… meeting, for what reason…?”
“I wish to send him a proposal letter.”
“Ah, a proposal… A proposal?!”
“Yes.”
Take’s mind went blank.
Had he really just heard that?
A marriage proposal?
From the Grand Duke?
Rosen’s smile softened apologetically.
“If I sent a letter outright, he’d be startled.
I trust you’ll deliver it properly.”
“Ah…”
“Then, excuse me.”
With a polite bow, Rosen walked past him.
Take watched her retreating figure, still dazed.
It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
A private meeting with the Grand Duke could bring unimaginable benefits.
But a marriage proposal…?
“Well… what could possibly go wrong?”
And as always, ‘what could possibly go wrong’ was the prelude to disaster.
By the end of the festival, word had spread across the Empire—
The youngest son of Count Take, Holden, was to be married to Archduchess Titania.
