Chapter 33
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Chapter 33
Marquis Schultz, described as The Emperor's only friend, learns that the original heroine lives confined and attempts to help her.
—or so it appears in the novel's opening.
By the middle, his true intentions are revealed.
'He only wanted to send her somewhere The Emperor couldn't see her, thinking she was the primary cause of The Emperor's ruin.'
Still, he did end up helping her.
But in the original novel, no one survives to reach the ending.
Naturally, the Marquis dies as well.
'Even the male lead dies following the female lead.'
Who on earth wrote this? This kind of novel?
'I should have read something with a brighter tone!'
But regret came too late.
I earnestly wished once more in my heart.
'Your Majesty, get married. Your Majesty, get married. Just marry anyone but me. Quickly. Your Majesty, please get married. Marry overnight. Anyone will do, just marry quickly.'
He didn't seem entirely uninterested in women.
"Why is that..."
"Were you speaking to me, Your Majesty?"
"No. I was just talking to myself."
I linked my arm through Dale's and walked slowly.
"Dale. What do you think it means when a man sends a woman a flower basket on her birthday every year?"
The Emperor had sent me a flower basket on every birthday of mine.
"It seems to mean he's sending flowers."
"No, not like that."
Dale wore a bewildered expression.
I asked again seriously.
"If there's a man who sends flowers every year to a woman he has no relationship with—someone he's never even met—and then suddenly proposes to her, what would that mean?"
"...!"
Dale's eyes widened in an instant.
"Does it mean he's been fond of her all along?"
"...."
Dale froze as if trampled beneath an elephant's foot.
For some reason, Dale looked pale and remained motionless. He hesitated before looking at me.
"I wouldn't know, since I'm not that person."
"I suppose not."
That could be true.
Then I should rephrase my question.
"What do you think of this? So this man isn't someone completely uninterested in women, is he?"
"...Is mere interest acceptable?"
"Yes."
Dale nodded.
"I do have interest."
"I see...!"
Then why hasn't he married?
If he's not someone indifferent to the opposite sex.
'I wondered if perhaps the original story had changed....'
I considered the possibility that the male lead's interests might have shifted, but it didn't seem to be the case.
However, even The Emperor had been reasonably cold and composed before he began to love.
The problem was that he fell madly in love with the female lead.
"...."
For some reason, I felt a sharp gaze upon me.
"Dale? What's wrong?"
"Do you perhaps dislike flowers?"
"Flowers? I like them."
The moment I answered, Dale's expression softened.
"I like them too."
"Yes. Flowers. Dale, you'll get yourself into trouble speaking like that without the object. The way you said it with that tone, I almost got flustered myself."
I laughed and leaned against Dale.
Somehow, being with Dale no longer felt strange.
"Enya."
Then Dale wrapped his arm around my shoulder.
For some reason, he looked troubled—determined even, as if he'd made a resolution.
Dale bent down and gazed at me quietly.
"Actually, there's something I need to tell you."
"Something you need to tell me?"
"Now that...."
Neigh!
The ground trembled at that moment.
The instant I turned to look beside me.
"Ah...!"
Whoosh!
A horse came charging wildly before my eyes.
My heart raced as I narrowly avoided danger.
Had Dale not quickly pulled me into his embrace, I might have been struck by the horse—it was that close.
"Are you alright?"
Dale asked urgently, his eyes wide with alarm as he examined me.
Neigh!
The carriage came to a halt.
Dale's expression grew noticeably cold as he observed the impertinent carriage.
'That emblem on the carriage... I've definitely seen it before. It belongs to some noble house.'
A family crest featuring two-headed eagles gazing in opposite directions. A shield was depicted, with a blazing flame at its center—the design looked familiar.
The carriage door opened, and a man emerged.
A strikingly handsome man dressed in a suit as white as snow.
Then it came to me.
Which house's emblem that was.
Marquis Schultz's house.
"Well, well. Meeting you here."
The man who had stepped out of the carriage approached me.
Me?
No, his gaze was directed slightly to the side.
'Dale?'
When I turned my head, I could see Dale's expression had turned glacial.
"I've heard rumors you live like this..."
He greeted Dale.
Was it a greeting?
"So it's true."
It sounded like mockery, yet also like the banter of old acquaintances.
In any case, he seemed delighted to see Dale.
He was approaching with a bright expression.
'Is this man Marquis Cassion Schultz?'
I didn't judge everything in the world by appearance, but Marquis Schultz had been described as an exceptionally handsome man.
And there seemed to be no one else here who fit that description.
Yet he was far more... than I'd imagined.
How to put it...
'Roguish?'
"And who might this young lady be?"
I was taken aback. I thought he could read minds.
I looked at Dale, who offered no response.
Dale, with his black hair and golden eyes, possessed a cold impression, while Marquis Schultz, with his blonde hair and crimson eyes, radiated brilliance—they were complete opposites in atmosphere.
It was exactly what you'd expect when contrasting two people at opposite ends of the spectrum.
"Dale."
"Your voice is lovely too."
The man smiled at me then.
"I am Cassion Schultz."
"What brings you to the Capital?"
Dale subtly positioned himself in front of me.
"...Ah. I came to meet with someone important. There's a meeting."
There was a faint hint of amusement in Marquis Cassion Schultz's voice. He spoke in a measured, deliberate tone.
"But the person of high standing dislikes me, you see. I was wondering what to do about it. ...What do you think?"
He craned his neck as if trying to peer past Dale to see me.
"They won't even grant me an audience. What do you think? Should I stay here and sightsee around the Capital? Or should I enter the Imperial Palace?"
The Imperial Palace?
I suddenly hiccupped.
Dale turned around to shield me, his gaze fixed on Marquis Cassion Schultz.
"You should enter the Imperial Palace."
"Is that so? Can I enter? The soldiers would have to open the gates for me."
"They will."
A brief silence fell.
"Good. I trust you. But the one behind you...."
"Please go."
"So you won't even let me greet her."
The Marquis chuckled softly, his shoulders shaking with amusement. He raised both hands toward Dale.
"Fine. I'll go then. No need to linger."
At that moment, the Marquis craned his neck forward and looked at me.
"We'll see each other again, won't we?"
"You should hurry. The Imperial Palace won't keep its gates open for long."
The Marquis's curiosity was completely shut down by Dale's impenetrable defense.
"Right. We'll meet again soon enough."
The Marquis stepped back and boarded his carriage.
"Until we meet again."
His parting words seemed directed entirely at me.
The carriage carrying him gradually receded into the distance.
'Who is he? How does he know Dale?'
I glanced at Dale's face. His expression as he watched the carriage disappear was deeply troubled.
* * *
As soon as I arrived home, my eyes and hair returned to their original color.
It seemed the disguise potion's effects were short-lived since I'd only consumed a small amount earlier.
"But now I have more than enough to use generously."
Thanks to Dale, my peace of mind had been restored.
'But what was that man about?'
Marquis Schultz and Dale—did they know each other?
Recalling their exchange—though it was more one-sided than a true conversation—they seemed quite close.
Most notably, Marquis Schultz showed genuine warmth toward Dale.
That was what struck me as unusual.
'Marquis Schultz has wide connections, but he's not the type to engage in social pleasantries.'
He was the kind of person people naturally gravitated toward without him lifting a finger.
The influence of the Schultz House—a family of generations-long prestige—played a role, and his personal abilities were exceptional as well.
Like our own house, the Schultz family stood at the forefront of the pro-Emperor faction.
"Dale. Are you finished washing?"
Dale, who had just emerged from bathing, his face slightly flushed, dried himself with a towel.
Water droplets fell from his damp hair, carrying a pleasant fragrance.
Dale looked at me with eyes that seemed somewhat weary.
"You haven't gone to sleep yet, I see."
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