Chapter 16
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Chapter 16
"Pardon?"
I lifted my head to look at Dale. He was gazing at me with an intense, penetrating stare.
I couldn't quite decipher what that look meant.
Was he angry? No. Suspicious? That wasn't it either. Handsome? Well, always.
His face carried such an air of melancholy even in repose, and now that mysterious intensity overlaid it, making him appear even more enigmatic and beautiful.
'Can a face actually become more beautiful than this?'
I found myself admiring Dale's beauty without any resistance.
"...Miss Enya, do you perhaps wish for The Emperor to—"
"The Emperor? Why would you ask that?"
"—to die?"
"Pardon?"
I glanced around nervously. Even for someone like me, I would never entertain thoughts of treason.
"No? Absolutely not? Never?"
As I shook my head frantically, Dale covered his face and exhaled a long sigh.
It seemed almost like relief.
"Thank goodness."
"Were you worried I might secretly commit treason? Absolutely not. And if such a misunderstanding arose, I would make absolutely certain to beg The Emperor to spare you, Dale!"
"..."
Even after hearing my words, Dale's expression showed no sign of joy.
Does he not trust me?
...Though I suppose he had reason not to.
"I swear it. I'll make sure to exclude Dale from any accusations."
"...!"
When I placed my hand over his and spoke, Dale went rigid.
"Ah. Unnecessary physical contact. That violates our contract, doesn't it? I'm sorry."
I quickly raised both hands to show they were empty.
"In any case, The Emperor must live a long and healthy life."
Even if I won't marry him.
"I do wish for His Majesty's good health, truly. I simply don't want to marry him—it's not that I dislike His Majesty, you understand?"
But The Emperor must remain of sound mind and alive, or our family will be in danger.
"I don't wish for him to overwork himself to death. I'm simply an ordinary citizen of The Empire who hopes His Majesty becomes extremely, desperately, overwhelmingly busy."
"..."
"So that problems pile up one after another, and he has no need to concern himself with trivial matters."
Dale's expression, which had seemed troubled moments before, gradually softened.
He returned to his pale but clear-featured face, and offered a faint smile.
There was still a sense of rigidity lingering in the air.
"May I ask just one more question?"
"Of course."
I nodded with a smile.
"I'd like to know the real reason you dislike marrying The Emperor."
His expression grew notably serious.
"If you came to understand The Emperor accurately, might your thoughts change at that point?"
"No. Living as Empress would seem rather tedious."
Dale's face went pale.
It was the expression of someone who hadn't considered that possibility.
"Is amusement all that matters to you?"
Is it?
I tilted my head uncertainly.
The position of Empress wasn't something to be judged by entertainment alone, so no answer seemed quite fitting.
"It's simply not my preference."
"What exactly is not your preference?"
Dale asked anxiously, like someone hoping for something. Was he always this talkative?
Today seemed somewhat unusual.
"It's just that he's far too much of a powerful figure for my taste."
"A powerful figure?"
"Perhaps the issue is that he's The Emperor?"
"Is the imperial throne the problem?"
"It does serve as a reason."
If he weren't The Emperor, my family could suppress him with power.
If the male lead were merely a foreign prince, or better yet someone from the Hexagon ducal house, or even just an earl, I could have disposed of him immediately—but he happened to be an Emperor far too formidable.
I understood well what power meant in a hierarchical society.
I also knew that defying it was unthinkable.
"Then if The Emperor were to abdicate and propose afterward, could you accept him at that point?"
"But then His Majesty would be in mortal danger. That man must keep a firm grip on his power to govern. There are far too many villains targeting The Emperor."
Dale nodded with a composed expression. It seemed he agreed as well.
He opened his mouth slowly.
"So The Emperor must not relinquish his throne, but as a man without the throne it would be possible, you don't wish to become Empress, yet you don't dislike the man himself—is that correct?"
"W-w-well... something like that...?"
For some reason, I felt that saying anything more would get me arrested for lèse-majesté.
Even though it was just Dale and me here.
I spoke more carefully.
"If I became Empress, I'd essentially be cut off from the outside world. I'd have to live by the strict rules of the Imperial Palace, so it would be suffocating, and besides..."
The male lead would become obsessed with me.
Recalling what the male lead did in the original story made me shudder.
He kept the Empress confined and made her see only him.
Endless obsession, possessiveness, and then abandonment.
That kind of love was a rejection.
"And besides, the Empress has no say whatsoever in state affairs, does she?"
"...."
"All she can do is languish confined within the Empress's Palace with nothing to occupy her time."
I offered a plausible excuse.
About sixty years ago, The Empire had nearly crumbled due to a rebellion orchestrated by maternal relatives.
After that, a law was established forbidding the Empress from involving herself in politics, diplomacy, economics, or even the minor affairs of the Imperial Palace without special justification or The Emperor's explicit permission.
"That's exactly why I don't want to become the Empress!"
"...!"
"I want to help His Majesty from a very great distance! A truly immense distance! So far that even if I prostrated myself and rolled for an entire year without stopping, I still wouldn't reach it—as nothing more than a humble citizen of The Empire, offering quiet, modest assistance...! Is that too much? Ha ha? I'd be satisfied with just that!"
"The constraints that bind the Empress are indeed far too restrictive..., I agree."
Dale murmured quietly.
He seemed to be contemplating my words with genuine seriousness.
"So that was it."
Dale nodded as though he had finally understood.
"Exactly? And how suffocating it must be! The Empress ranks second only to The Emperor, yet if she holds power but cannot wield it, the frustration would only deepen."
"Your words are correct, Enya."
He stroked his chin with the gleam of someone who had found the answer.
"The problem lies in The Empire's misguided customs."
* * *
[These days, His Majesty has been gathering his ministers to prepare reforms to The Empire's laws.]
I received a letter from a covert informant within the Imperial Palace, and cold sweat beaded on my skin at the unsettling news.
'A bill, suddenly? Why?'
The newspapers were filled with successive accounts of his actions.
Reports of lowered harbor tariffs through treaties with foreign nations, of the Emperor's Knights successfully concluding their subjugation of monsters and returning—such news filled column after column.
The Emperor was simply conducting his duties as usual, so why was my heart trembling?
"Ugh, this is unsettling."
Perhaps it was the conversation I'd had with Dale a few days ago—the coincidental timing aligned too perfectly, leaving me with an uneasy feeling.
"It's strange how similarly we think."
I crumpled the newspaper and cast it aside.
I'd occasionally noticed it before—the accounts of him in the newspapers and the Emperor's temperament that Father described at home bore a striking resemblance to my own.
I absolutely didn't want to be entangled with him, yet there was this peculiar sensation of disliking him precisely because we were similar, yet not entirely disliking him.
'No. I despise the Emperor.'
I tied back my hair and hurried toward Lord's Castle.
"How are you feeling today?"
I climbed the stairs to the Lord's chamber, carrying the medicine I had prepared.
After administering the medicine consistently for about a week, the Lord's complexion had returned from its sickly, ashen pallor to a healthy color.
"Ah, cough, you've arrived, Miss Enya."
"Are you well? There's no worsening of symptoms or anything like that?"
"Your medicine seems to be remarkably effective, Miss Enya. Haha."
The Lord broke into a hearty laugh while tidying his appearance. He had recovered enough to walk about the castle with ease now.
He had not been exposed to poison administered all at once, but rather to a toxin that spread with agonizing slowness—a method requiring continuous exposure.
Until a certain threshold was exceeded, there were no symptoms whatsoever, and then suddenly, all at once—collapse.
It was absolutely impossible for such a thing to occur naturally.
For reference, it was a Hexagon spy who had poisoned my Grandfather in this manner.
'Who could have done this to the Lord of Grunvalt?'
Someone capable of approaching the Lord closely, someone whose proximity would not seem unnatural.
"...."
We were not alone in this room.
Adeline stood motionless in the corner.
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