Chapter 40
A Trip to the Imperial Palace (1)
After the day of the tea party, Rudolph’s behavior became noticeably annoying.
“Odelia, is there anything you want to eat? Anything you want to have? Something you want to do? Want to go out?”
Let me say this one more time: seriously. Extremely. Totally. To an irritating degree… he became annoying.
Before, he would visit the marquis’ estate almost every day, but now he practically lived there.
Aside from the five hours he slept, he was almost always at the marquisate.
But what was even more annoying…
“Odelia, is there something you want to eat? Something you’d like to have? Anything you want to do? I’ll do anything for you, just say the word.”
…was that Ian had started copying Rudolph’s crazy behavior exactly.
When Rudolph grabbed my arm and acted cute, Ian did the same.
There was even a time Ian tried to outdo Rudolph and brought me a gold necklace from the imperial palace—only to be summoned by the emperor afterward.
Since then, the unnecessary showering of gifts had stopped, but having two men, both over 185cm tall, clinging to my arms and acting coy—it was something I could never get used to.
Also, my arms hurt.
“First of all, both of you—let go.”
“No.”
“Nope.”
Ian and Rudolph, as if in sync, leaned against my shoulders.
They’d gotten surprisingly close over the past few days—working in perfect sync.
Can I just hit them once? Just one solid punch?
I flipped a page, thinking that I really was becoming more violent these days.
Reading even a single book was hard with those two around, but I couldn’t just skim over the information Annie had worked so hard to collect.
After all, there might be something she didn’t notice but I could pick up on.
I had to keep searching to see if there was more to find than just the “Place of Love.”
Two days ago, I had also received a letter from Lady Selene.
She wrote that she had received permission from the other noble ladies, so I would be allowed to meet the Bluebird.
I asked if I could meet it right away, but the answer came back that the Bluebird could only be seen at the imperial palace.
The noble ladies treated the Bluebird like some magical love-bringing being, but my thoughts were different.
Maybe the Bluebird was a coordinate marker—leading to where others like me were.
Or maybe “Bluebird” referred to those people themselves.
Until the day I met the Bluebird, I had to make some sort of plan.
Think through every possible scenario, and prepare the best response—
“Odelia, are you worried about something?”
As I rubbed my throbbing temples, Rudolph asked, clearly concerned.
His round, cherry-colored eyes gazed at me, and somehow, that made me feel oddly comfortable.
I had never even paid attention to those eyes while reading the original story.
Smiling softly, I gave him a reassuring expression.
“My biggest concern is you two constantly clinging to me. If you’re not going to read to me, then get off.”
“Then I’ll read! I know everything.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, wizard! Odelia, I’ll read it to you—!”
“You shut up! Want me to turn you into a frog?”
The moment I gave them an inch, they started bickering again.
At times like this, I almost wished Weizenne and Ginger would barge in and turn this into a three—or four—way argument. That might actually be better.
“Are you bothering Odelia again?”
Right on cue, Weizenne poked his head into the drawing room.
“Brother, want to join in the torment?”
“No, I’m actually a bit busy.”
Weizenne looked obviously exhausted.
Lately, his workload had grown exponentially.
It was probably because of me. Apparently, I left a good impression on the other noble ladies at the tea party.
Now, starting with their families, Weizenne kept receiving new business proposals.
And with his sharp mind, it was only natural that people would want to work with him.
The problem was—he accepted most of those proposals.
He could’ve just turned some of them down and reduced his workload.
He already had a lot on his plate.
Once, I asked him if he couldn’t take it a bit easier, but he gently declined, saying that working like this was what he needed to do right now.
It’s not like he could take that money with him when he died…
So stubborn.
“You’re not planning to work yourself to death, are you?”
“I’ll try to live long enough to worry about you becoming the marquis.”
He let out a low laugh. For once, he really did sound like an older brother.
“Anyway, aren’t you coming in?”
I looked at him, half-inside the room, and asked. Then he stepped in.
“I brought a guest.”
As he said that, a raven—about the size of a small child—was perched on his arm.
And as soon as it appeared, Ian started throwing a fit.
“Why! Wh-why again?!”
Apparently, he was upset that the damn bird was back even though he’d “done his job.”
Let him scream. It’s his problem.
Meanwhile, the raven, still perched on Weizenne’s arm, was staring straight at me.
“Is it for me?”
“Probably. That bird never gives me letters.”
And with Weizenne’s praise about how clever the raven was, the bird flapped its wings and flew toward me.
“Probably came to me since this drawing room has no windows.”
“Must be annoying at work.”
“This is my breather.”
Weizenne loosened his shirt buttons and flopped onto the couch opposite me.
He looked really tired.
Maybe I should ask Arkon if the internal work could be divided a bit.
In novels, if a household didn’t have a wife or mother, the female lead would sometimes handle internal affairs.
If it’s something simple, maybe I could help.
“So? What does the letter say?”
He asked while sipping the tea Lucy had brought.
Honestly, this wasn’t the first time the emperor and I had exchanged letters.
He was always stuck in the palace and seemed to treat me like a substitute daughter.
After all, his only son, Ian, kept running off whenever he got bored. It kind of made sense.
So the emperor sent me letters now and then—sometimes simple updates, sometimes gifts.
They were minor enough to seem like a father doting on his daughter, but I still had to be careful.
If word got out that I was receiving gifts from the emperor just as I’d barely dipped my toes into high society, it wouldn’t look good.
That’s why I always returned the gifts through Ian.
Maybe he sent this letter because he was upset about that?
“W-wait! It’s not… a dying message for me, is it?!”
I ignored Ian’s nonsense and opened the letter.
The handwriting was neat and legible, unlike most letters from noble ladies.
It was to the point and easy to read.
This one was no different.
“…Your Majesty.”
“Wh-why are you calling me that?!”
Ian flinched at my words and cowered.
When did he even retreat all the way into that corner?
“Why are you so scared? It’s not like His Majesty is going to eat you.”
“You say that because you don’t know what His Majesty is like!”
“Maybe not, but seeing how you act, I can imagine what kind of hardship he’s been through.”
I stood up and called for Lucy.
“Lucy, help me get ready. I’m going to the imperial palace with His Highness.”
“Wha—what?!”
Lucy blinked like a startled rabbit.
Ian also jumped up, knocking over a stack of books.
“His Majesty invited me to the palace.”
“With—with me?”
Ian asked, face flushed.
“Unfortunately, not with you. He only asked to see me. You’re just tagging along so you can finally go home.”
“Why?!”
“Go do your job. Your job.”
Clicking my tongue at Ian’s teary-eyed whining, I wondered: what kind of crown prince just loafs around like this?
I’ve never read a romance fantasy where the crown prince plays all day like this.
Even in those stories, crown princes would be studying imperial governance or helping manage affairs of the state.
But Ian… wasn’t like that.
“Odelia—don’t dress too pretty—”
I had never once read a romance novel where the crown prince stood outside the lady’s dressing room, begging like that.
Should I step on him as I leave?
Sighing deeply, I felt my inner violence growing stronger.
“Should I drive him off for you, milady?”
Even Lucy, usually patient, was getting fed up.
She said she’d never experienced anything like this in her life as a maid.
Even other housemaids from noble families said nothing like this ever happened.
So yeah, it wasn’t just me.
But I couldn’t have Lucy confronting the crown prince either—that’d definitely cause trouble.
So, for dear Lucy’s sake, I told her to get my highest heels ready so I could “gently” step on someone on the way out.
After much hassle, I finally arrived at the imperial palace.
Why was it so hard to get here?
At this point, five tea parties would’ve been easier.
Unlike before, Weizenne no longer clung to me.
He just gave me a list of about fifty palace etiquette rules.
He was so worried I’d do something crazy in the palace that he insisted on coming along.
I nearly collapsed trying to talk him out of it.
What exactly does he think I’m capable of?
I was a totally normal citizen in my past life. Never got reported, never admitted to a psych ward.
I had a working brain too, you know.
And it wasn’t just Weizenne who tried to follow.
Rudolph, for whatever reason, decided he had to come too—probably out of some weird sense of competition.
I scolded him, saying the palace wasn’t some playground you could visit whenever.
But he was stubborn.
He even said he’d use invisibility magic to sneak in.
Eventually, I calmed him down by promising we’d go out together after I came back.
Seeing both of them waving through the carriage window, I felt like a mother leaving behind her two clingy sons.
Like a mom called to school for her middle child while her eldest and youngest are bawling at home.
And just when I thought I’d survived the drama—
“Time to go.”
“No.”
Now the brat doesn’t want to leave me.
He was whining at the marquisate about how scary it was to meet his father—and now he was whining about not wanting to leave my side.
Ugh. Seriously.
Meeting the emperor is way too hard.
