Chapter 72
“No…!”
“You must have been quite surprised, Verdi.”
“Brother!”
Verdi let out a startled cry.
Her brother, Felix, laughed awkwardly.
Felix was the second son of the Sutton family, and also Verdi’s favorite sibling.
She had heard that he was working for Anel as well, but it had been a long time since they had met face-to-face.
She had assumed he had gone to Cartar because of the letters, but here he was!
“Sorry. You must have been startled by my sudden appearance. ‘That person’ ordered me to follow you.”
“What?!”
Verdi’s eyes widened in surprise. The Empress had assigned someone to watch over her?
“This matter is highly secretive, so she sent me because she was concerned. She worried about you traveling alone. It’s fortunate, isn’t it?”
Felix took Verdi away from the guards and led her into a quiet alley. Then, he pulled something from his chest and shook it.
“I recovered this.”
“My goodness… thank you so much!”
Verdi thanked the heavens and grabbed Felix’s hand tightly.
“You saved my life—and this country. Thank you.”
“No. I was just following orders. But…”
Felix’s expression grew dark as he continued.
“I succeeded in snatching the letters, but I failed to catch that beggar.”
“Well, it’s just bad luck running into a beggar… it couldn’t be helped if he escaped.”
“He’s not just a beggar.”
Felix shook his head.
“That person knew exactly that you had something in your possession.”
“You mean…”
“He was probably after the letters, not you.”
At that, Verdi’s expression darkened immediately, and so did Felix’s.
“It seems I should inform ‘that person’ that there’s a force tracking this way, Verdi.”
Meanwhile,
The beggar, gnashing his teeth over the Sutton siblings, had changed clothes and was secretly returning to the palace.
He had been an informant assigned by Artus to Verdi.
Seeing Verdi leave the palace alone, he instinctively realized she carried something of importance.
Snatching the letters had been successful, but unfortunately, there was one more ambush to contend with.
Still, it wasn’t a total loss.
“Did you find anything?”
“Yes, Captain.”
The informant met secretly with Artus at their arranged location.
“We caught signs that the Empress intended to send letters… but we couldn’t retrieve them.”
“Did you see the contents?”
“The moment I tried to open the letters, they were taken… I’m sorry. But I could identify the recipient.”
Artus’s expression grew serious at this.
“Who was it?”
The informant hesitated before answering:
“It was addressed to ‘the one whose connection has now ended.’”
“…That means…”
Artus muttered cautiously under his breath.
He couldn’t present it as concrete evidence, but it was a fairly clear clue.
“I can’t be certain… but could it be Duke Gears?”
If so, this was proof of collusion.
6:00 AM
As always, a cup of coffee, a cigar, and a report lay on Johann’s desk.
Picking up the neatly placed report like a dessert, Johann stood alone in just his robe.
Every morning started the same way. He would dress properly, drink a sip of coffee to shake off the previous night, light a cigar, and sit in the chair by the window, imagining the woman who was two hundred paces away.
But last night, sleep had been elusive. He remained lost in thought about her, disheveled and lingering in memory.
The curtains of the Empress’s palace windows were still drawn, as they had been all night and into the morning.
Johann flipped open the first page of the woman who slept lazily behind the white curtains.
Today’s report was thicker than usual.
Johann had decided to focus on just one topic every morning: Anel Morata’s movements—where she was, what she did, and what she thought.
Even the smallest details were laid on his table every morning.
Most reports were brief, about a hand-span in length, but today’s was extensive.
Conferment of the Baronial Title by the Empress
Menelaos Ikene
: Recommended by Ern Lars — Baronial Title (hereditary)
The report continued at length about Ikene’s eldest son. It mentioned the social stir caused by a new noble, his wealth, and his prominence due to appearances.
Johann was already familiar with the Ikene name. The family was among the wealthiest commoners in the capital, far wealthier than most influential nobles.
The Magnem Ducal family had close ties to the Ikene family through trade disguised as jewelry business, mediating commerce between Magnem and the Eastern continent.
Despite being commoners, the Ikene had a legacy and even a manor. They had once been nobles in Cartar but had relocated to Stein.
Why this family, practically living as nobles despite lacking a title, suddenly appeared on the Emperor’s desk?
Claiming Ern Lars recommended them, appearing innocent—but Johann knew it was false. Other nobles might be fooled, but not him.
If it had been Ern’s decision alone, he would have asked Johann for permission before writing the recommendation.
This was Anel’s direct intervention.
A strikingly beautiful young man, presumably from the Cartar lineage.
Johann read the phrasing in the report again. Not a single word pleased him.
“My Empress has an unusual obsession with things from Cartar, it seems.”
He muttered softly. Perhaps she had found a new amusement in this frustrating palace. He thought maybe her recent trip was for that very purpose.
Should he consider it cute? Or infuriating enough to lock her up?
The woman who had acted as a paragon of virtue was moving personally because of one man. The absurdity made him both angry and amused.
She must be scheming something with that little head of hers. Should he just watch?
A curious hypothesis struck Johann. He tapped his desk, thinking.
The Ikene family possesses jewels. Whatever they are, they’re not insignificant gifts.
Johann chuckled and turned the page. He thought it best to pretend ignorance of this little ‘incident.’ The other reports were trivial.
One notable point, however, was a report submitted directly by Artus.
“I want to investigate Cartar.”
It requested permission to leave the palace temporarily. Johann stamped it with approval. How Artus would evade the persistent girl fixated on him didn’t matter—what mattered was that it was urgent.
Artus Huntington was a soldier personally selected by Johann. A commoner orphan from the Cartar conflict zone, he had risen to the capital purely through talent.
Though his origins prevented him from holding high military office, Johann had made him an offer. He would give Artus what he desired, with the condition that he prove his value directly.
Artus had washed away his old identity and become a promising retainer. He naturally became Giselle’s closest aide, and now seemed to have discovered something interesting. Johann’s lips curved wryly.
“Your Majesty, the Empress sent documents regarding the birthday celebration budget.”
At that moment, Garden’s voice came from beyond the door. Johann tapped the desk, signaling him to enter.
Garden entered, handing the documents to Johann, who tossed them onto the desk without even looking.
“Tell her she can do whatever she wants.”
Garden’s eyes widened.
“It seems she’s planning a grand celebration. The taxes imposed on nobles alone are substantial. Of course, I wouldn’t doubt the Empress’s judgment, but it might be prudent to review—”
“Garden.”
Johann raised a hand, disinterested.
“Tell the Empress exactly that. She may squander the country if she wishes, it doesn’t matter.”
Even selling information to those Cartar fools had little effect. Johann chuckled, sipping coffee.
She would understand his meaning immediately. A slight warning was enough.
Your connection with Samyu Gears is over. Do not cross the line again.
Johann expected a satisfactory gift from Anel in return for the birthday celebration. The arrival of this document likely meant she had acquired a worthwhile gift. And he would ensure she paid the appropriate price.
He leaned back in his chair, pleased. For the first time, he looked forward to the day of his birth.
“Ah, Garden.”
But some matters required attention.
“Add Menelaos Ikene to the birthday celebration guest list for Ern.”
Watching her scheme alone could be amusing, but seeing Anel’s expression in front of the damned Cartar man would be far more enjoyable.
How would her face look when caught in a lie? Johann tilted his head back, eyes closed. A languid morning, untouched by coffee or cigar.
