Part 2 Chapter 55
The Emperor looked at Nike, who was fumbling around, with a bit of pity.
“Sit down.”
“Yes, Father.”
Idiot, why did you even stand up?
The Emperor sighed deeply, then opened the seal.
Instead of bombarding them with questions as expected, he calmly gathered the documents on the table.
Then, one by one—thump, thump—he stamped each page quickly.
Gasp.
I covered my mouth and looked at Nike. He was just as shocked.
For a royal marriage, the paperwork was ten times longer than that of normal nobles. Since it involved sharing the royal family name, it required many special agreements: about treasury funds, succession rights, and so on.
Honestly, there were so many documents that I didn’t even read them all—I just stamped them. About a hundred times, like an arm workout.
Ryan, Nike, and I had already stamped our parts. Now, the Emperor was stamping the final sections…
And then—
He stopped.
The Emperor, who had been stamping skillfully, froze mid-motion.
I tensed immediately.
“Young Lady.”
Here it comes.
“About the time before the rewind…”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
I quickly spoke up.
“I ate, dressed, and lived on Duke Bassenberg’s money. Even after realizing the problems in that house, I stayed there. Whether willingly or not, it’s a shameful past I cannot excuse.”
“Admitting what needs to be admitted…”
Ryan had given me advice too:
“Don’t let your boyfriend be the only one who gets scolded—polish your own image a little.”
“…But after meeting His Highness, I was reformed and tried to live righteously. From him, I received a second chance. This time, I will never bow to that corrupt house again. I’ll devote myself to becoming a small part of a great revolution. Thank you!”
“……”
The Emperor blinked at me.
“…I see.”
Then he resumed stamping and said,
“What I actually wanted to ask was—does Ryan remember things from before the rewind?”
Kyaaa!
“…I was nervous and misspoke, Your Majesty.”
“No matter. I was curious about your story too.”
“Only I remember everything before the rewind. My brother learned of it through me.”
“That’s a relief.”
The Emperor sighed as he continued stamping.
“If he remembered everything, he might’ve felt truly empty.”
“……”
Quietly, I glanced at Nike. He sat with his head bowed.
Again—the Emperor’s hand, holding the seal, stopped.
This time, his hand trembled slightly.
For the Emperor to approve this marriage meant he was also agreeing to use his direct execution power—a declaration of war on Bassenberg.
Of course, he knew the Crown Prince had prepared everything, but still…
As someone who had lived his whole life seeing the terror of ability-users, his fear was natural.
“I believe this marriage will put your safety at risk. Are you prepared for that?”
…Ah. So he was worried about me.
“Please don’t worry.”
This time, Nike answered in my place.
“I will protect Bania, no matter what.”
He squeezed my hand tightly, then added to the Emperor:
“I will never allow Your Majesty to witness failure. If needed, I’ll try dozens, even hundreds of times, until I can present only success.”
Oh wow…
Handsome words, but I’d only give him 80 points.
Because right now, the Emperor was avoiding mentioning the fact that his son had once betrayed the country for a woman.
And yet, here Nike was, grabbing my hand and openly talking about rewinding time as if to cover mistakes… Why say that?
“…Come here.”
The Emperor gestured with his chin.
Nike got up, walked around the table, and sat beside him. The Emperor sighed and grabbed the back of his son’s neck.
At first it looked like a gentle squeeze…
Smack!
But then—he slapped Nike’s back hard.
Nike only stiffened, showing no change of expression.
“……”
“……”
Father and son stared at each other.
“…Doesn’t it hurt?”
“I’m fine, Father.”
“……”
Idiot! That’s not what you’re supposed to say!
Finally, realizing, Nike corrected himself.
“…It hurts.”
“Good.”
The Emperor sighed again, picked up the seal, and resumed stamping.
“I am still the Emperor. I cannot completely ignore your choices before the rewind.”
“……”
“An ability-user from Bassenberg fought for this country, while the one who stopped him was the Emperor’s own son. I feel ashamed before Ryan.”
“…I’m sorry.”
“That’s why.”
Wow. For betraying the empire, the Emperor’s punishment was… just one slap on the back?
Clearly, it was because Nike was his son.
Thump, thump, thump.
The Emperor resumed stamping quickly, his pace speeding up.
And my heart pounded just as fast.
For me and Nike, this was the official vow we had fought for over so many rewinds.
For Ryan, it was the sword of execution.
For Bassenberg, it was the death sentence.
The Emperor’s approval.
Finally, on the very last page—
Thump!
***
Meanwhile, Duke Edgar opened his son’s room door.
The air was thick with cigar smoke.
Richard lay stretched out on the sofa, puffing on a cigar, then stubbed it out as he sat up.
“Shall we go to your office, Father?”
Edgar shook his head and sat across from him.
“No need. We’ll talk here. Thank you for coming.”
“It’s nothing.”
Richard leaned back lazily, rubbing his brow as if tired.
“Playing cards isn’t so important. If Father calls, I will come.”
From the moment he entered, Edgar studied his son closely.
His daughter Krista had hidden her resentment toward him.
Krista and Richard—siblings who had been closest since childhood. Both had once longed for their banished half-siblings.
So Edgar suspected Richard also secretly held resentment toward him.
But Richard’s past behavior gave no solid proof.
“That note—do you know what it is?”
It was the note Krista had tried to pass to a contact.
Edgar wanted to see Richard’s reaction.
Would he pretend not to know?
Or panic?
But instead—
Click.
Richard just clicked his tongue and rubbed his forehead.
“…Krista. What about her?”
“……”
“You didn’t hit her, did you?”
“…Of course not. She’s in her room.”
(Though in truth, half confined so she couldn’t leave the house.)
“Was this note meant for you?”
“Yes.”
Richard admitted calmly.
“What does it mean?”
“That she was in trouble and wanted me to come home?”
“……”
“You’re planning to bring our half-siblings back, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“Krista told me. She also said she hoped they wouldn’t return.”
“Why would she say that?”
“She said she hates this house.”
Edgar’s eyes narrowed, watching Richard closely. But his son’s expression was unreadable.
“…What exactly did she say to you?”
“The same old complaints. She’s been whining about hating this place for a while, but there’s nothing I can do for her.”
Richard looked half worried, half annoyed—nothing unusual.
The once-fragile son had toughened up after getting into gambling. He listened to his father, didn’t cry over missing his siblings anymore, and now seemed only interested in gambling, smoking, drinking—and Krista, the sibling he cared for most.
So, even if he knew about her resentment, it made sense he’d keep quiet.
Confusing…
Edgar smiled faintly, thinking of one last bait.
His spies had already told him: not long ago, Bania had secretly visited Richard.
But Richard hadn’t brought it up himself.
Then—
“Oh, right. Bania came to see me recently.”
“……”
Edgar froze.
Since entering the room, Richard hadn’t reacted as expected even once.
Was his son beyond his control now? Edgar couldn’t tell.
But his doubts wouldn’t go away.
A chilling instinct ran down his spine.
This conversation was dangerous—maybe useful, maybe fatal.
Even so, he had to ask. With a tense smile, Edgar asked:
“…Why?”
