~CHAPTER 33~
Your Majesty,
Although you must be busy with many affairs of state, if you could spare a moment to visit Oak Palace, Lady Elpenlira would be truly delighted.
She recently learned an Arasas aria, and it is a beautiful piece.
I have been accompanying her on the pianoforte as best as I can.
If you visit at any time, we will be ready to perform it for you.
P.S. Although it is a love song in Lady Elpenlira’s taste, you may rest assured that there is no princess and knight in it.
– With respect, Dianu Ortensa.
The letter he had already read more than a dozen times carried a gentle floral scent.
From the neat and graceful handwriting to the warm tone of her wording, Dianu Ortensa’s personality shone through every line.
From the third day Rision kept his distance from Oak Palace, Dianu had begun sending letters.
Sometimes Marek had brought them with an uncomfortable look, and sometimes a servant of Oak Palace delivered them.
He received every one of them and read them with care, but he never once replied.
Even though the words he wished to send back ran through his mind in long strings, he found himself unable to write anything at all, and that was deeply painful.
His eyes felt dry and his forehead throbbed as if it would split.
Since that night when he had parted from Dianu in front of Oak Palace, the headaches and insomnia had worsened.
He knew he was far from normal, but all he could do was endure it in silence.
Pressing a fingertip to his eyelid, Rision forced his mouth to open.
“And, next?”
Neyron, who kept glancing at Rision with the worry of someone watching a child near deep water, lowered his eyes to the paper in his hands.
“The second son of Viscount Malsia. He is twenty-eight years old and—”
“Are you joking? Miss Ortensa is only twenty-one.”
He had never imagined she was so young until he heard it from her own lips.
If anything, Dianu was closer in age to Elpenlira than to Rision.
Neyron looked troubled.
“Your Majesty, in the marriage market, a seven-year age difference is not considered a problem…”
“No. Narrow the range. From twenty years old to—”
Rision paused.
The words refused to come out.
Silence crept in like an unwelcome guest, and Neyron gave him a knowing look.
With a hand pressed against his pulsing temple, Rision waved dismissively.
“Twenty-five.”
Just like that, more than half of the “Potential Suitors for Miss Dianu Ortensa” list Neyron had compiled was eliminated.
“Remove anyone known to have woman problems.”
It was possible some men hid mistresses or illegitimate children, but that could be investigated once the list was narrowed.
“And anyone lacking proper education. They must have completed university or at least studied under a reputable tutor.”
Dianu had lively intellectual curiosity and a rich sense of culture.
A man who would bore her or feel threatened by her was not qualified.
“No debt, either. A husband who drags his wife into hardship with gambling debts or failed investments…”
A lack of inherited wealth was acceptable.
Rision could补lements it by any means necessary.
Somehow, he had to ensure that once she left the palace, she would be safe and happy.
His vision blurred.
Rision closed his eyes for a long moment and then opened them again.
He felt as if he might faint on the spot, or else never sleep again.
“Your Majesty…”
Neyron set the tattered list onto the desk and called out carefully.
Rision turned his bloodshot eyes toward his secretary.
“It is a servant’s privilege to worry for his lord, so forgive me for speaking out of turn.”
Rision did not even have the strength to answer.
He leaned his head against the back of his chair and looked down at Neyron at an angle.
“You wish to keep Miss Ortensa near you, do you not?”
Rision’s jaw tightened at once, but Neyron did not retreat.
“If that is what you want, there should be several ways to do so…”
“Are you telling me to tarnish a lady’s honor?”
“There are ways that do not harm Miss Ortensa’s honor—”
“No.”
Neyron fell silent.
Rision buried his face in both hands.
“I cannot trust myself not to want.”
“Your Majesty…”
“And if I want, Miss Ortensa cannot refuse.”
She was lovely.
Her easily flushed cheeks, her curious bright eyes, her chattering lips, her slender neck, her soft waves of dark brown hair.
There was not a single part of her he did not find lovable.
When they were together, he wanted to reach out.
And if he reached out, he could take her.
He could do whatever he wished with her.
Which was exactly why he must not.
That was his father’s way.
A love without responsibility, only pleasure.
In the end, the one who cried was always the other person.
Rision had seen the scars that reckless love left behind.
They were remembered as the late emperor’s mistresses, lovers, illegitimate children.
He could never trap Dianu in such a fate.
He owed her far too much.
“…I promised my aunt. I would return Miss Ortensa unharmed.”
“…”
“For a lady, reputation is a precious asset.”
Even if Dianu, unlike Ellaris’s hope, chose never to marry and live her life as a governess, it was the same.
Once rumors tied her to Rision, she would never find work again.
“So remake the list. With proper men.”
“There are almost none who meet the conditions…”
“…”
“Ah, if we raise the age limit to twenty-six, Lord Roysen matches all conditions.”
“Get out.”
The secretary bolted as if he had been waiting for the dismissal.
After staring out the window for a long while, Rision finally opened a desk drawer.
Inside lay the ribbon he had received from an unfamiliar lady on what now felt like a distant spring day.
He held it in his hands and pressed it against his face.
First love smelled of dried roses.
* * *
There is no gentleman who would turn away a lady who comes of her own accord.
He never imagined that old-fashioned Catalos courtesy for gentlemen would help him like this.
The Emperor’s Office in the East Wing of the imperial palace was structured in layers.
Before reaching the emperor’s private office at the deepest part, one had to pass through several rooms.
The first gate was, quite literally, a door.
A massive desk sat before the entrance of the East Wing, and behind it was a middle-aged woman wearing spectacles.
Dianu was taken aback.
If she were refused entry, she had planned to insist that she was a lady and he a gentleman, so it was only right he should grant her request.
Was that why the gatekeeper was a woman?
Perhaps hers was not the first attempt by a young noblewoman to slip into the emperor’s space using the “lady card.”
“Hello. I am Dianu Ortensa, the governess of Oak Palace.”
Dianu bowed politely to the lady, who had been examining a list full of names.
The woman removed her glasses and looked up at her with an indifferent expression.
“A pleasure. I am Baroness Karamire, serving as His Majesty’s secretary. What business brings you to the East Wing?”
Her tone was mechanical, as if reciting a line repeated hundreds or thousands of times.
Dianu forced a smile, pushing down the anxiety rising in her chest.
“I have a matter to consult His Majesty about, regarding Princess Elpenlira’s lessons.”
Baroness Karamire did not respond.
She looked as if waiting for more.
Dianu hurried to add:
“It is a very delicate and important matter, so I must speak with him directly.”
That should be enough.
Dianu hugged the Princess Oliana side story volume tighter against her chest.
Baroness Karamire, twirling a quill between her fingers, finally spoke.
“You said you were Miss Ortensa?”
“Yes!”
“Everyone who asks for a private audience with His Majesty claims that their business is the most delicate, important, and urgent in the world.”
“…Pardon?”
“I have turned away thirty-one such people today alone, yet there has been no war, no plague, no collapse of the heavens. And so it has been in the five years His Majesty has placed me in this seat.”
Heat rushed up the back of Dianu’s neck.
Baroness Karamire’s tone remained as businesslike as when they first met.
“If it truly is that important, you should be able to find another—”
“Miss Dianu Ortensa?”
It happened just before Dianu collapsed into ashes from embarrassment.
The door behind Baroness Karamire opened, and a puzzled voice spoke.
It was a stranger.
He had an unremarkable appearance and wore the emblem of an imperial official on his chest.
The man stepped forward, addressing Dianu as if she were someone he knew well.
“What are you doing out here?”
“…Pardon?”
“His Majesty did not summon you… Ah, I suppose this is our first time meeting properly. My apologies.”
He bowed deeply.
“I am Neyron B Verdian, Chief Secretary to His Majesty the Emperor. It is an honor to meet you.”
