Our Business
"Thank you! It's all finished!"
Laniakea held up the last document and broke into a bright smile. It was a paper she had set aside on purpose, to bring with her today, and as before, Hyperion's advice had let her sort it without any real difficulty. She had not forgotten why she had come to the Main Palace. Even so, she thought that clearing the Empress's work quickly would be of more help to him than anything else—and facing the newly chosen ladies-in-waiting had only strengthened that feeling.
Half of them, like Hilde, had come in earnest: to serve the Empress, to tend the work of the Imperial Palace, and, beyond that, to labor for the future of the Empire.
But the other half?
They pretended otherwise, yet like Chelsia they stole glances at every turn, watching Laniakea's every move, their eyes glittering as they tracked whom she met and what she did.
"Ah—I took the ladies-in-waiting on according to the advice Your Majesty gave me."
"I was informed. They said you accepted every one of them."
"Yes. All of them are people the Empress's Palace needs at once."
How much had already been accomplished in only two days. The thought alone drew a smile from her even as she sat still. If there were no trouble lurking beneath the surface, these were ladies she would have liked to keep just as they were. But she knew better. Once she had thrown them off the scent to a certain degree, the half who had entered to watch her would have to be cleared away.
But I want to let the other half keep working for as long as I can.
Whenever she looked at those who, like Hilde, threw themselves wholeheartedly into their duties in the belief that Laniakea would remain Empress, her heart grew uneasy. Whoever the next Empress might be, she wanted to guarantee that those women could go on working. If the Empress's Palace proved impossible, then somewhere else in the Imperial Palace—without fail.
"Is the woman of the Livington family causing any trouble?"
"If you mean Chelsia, she's working even harder than Hilde right now. Having lost the post of chief lady-in-waiting, she's desperately trying to win my favor. That's why I'm thinking of summoning her on her own."
"I'm sure you know what you're doing. Even so, don't draw her too close. The Livington family is cunning."
At the worry in his face, Laniakea could only smile, a little abashed. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had worried for her so purely. Her parents and her sisters had never shown her a look like this—and yet he, whom she had met only a handful of times, was showing it to her now. He was her husband, of course. Even so, it was still nothing but awkward.
Even so... it feels good.
Since Hyperion's ascension, moments that left her heart ticklish had grown frequent. The feeling was still awkward and strange, and every time it came over her, Laniakea didn't know what to do with it. She didn't dislike it. She simply couldn't shake the sense that it was an emotion that didn't suit her—because once she grew used to it, she was afraid she would keep thinking of this place long after she had left it.
"Thank you. I'll continue to be careful."
"You don't need to thank me. This is simply what I ought to do as your husband."
"But..."
"More to the point, haven't your working hours grown too long of late? I looked into your records. It seems the former Empress never assigned you the lessons you were due."
"Ah. That..."
In the Empire, there were mandatory lessons a prince's consort was required to receive. In her first year she had been able to attend them all, but in the second year Laniakea had been allowed to hear none.
It must have been because of that incident.
Thinking of that time, she stole a glance at Hyperion. From his silence, he seemed not to know of it. He probably didn't. It had been a matter among Laniakea, the former Empress, and the Fourth Imperial Prince. By Laniakea's measure it had not been so great a thing, but it seemed it had been otherwise for the former Empress. After that incident, she had not only stopped inviting Laniakea to banquets—she had shut her out of the lessons entirely.
If the Fourth Imperial Prince had become Emperor...
The mere thought raised gooseflesh. Wouldn't that truly have been the worst possible end?
"Laniakea?"
Noticing how suddenly she had gone rigid, Hyperion called to her at once.
"I'm fine. I just felt a chill for a moment."
It was nonsense. The weather was quite warm, and the windows weren't even open. She was dressed warmly enough that there was no reason to be cold. But Hyperion didn't press. He simply went on with what he had been saying.
"In any case, there's no need to rush your work. Even if you begin preparing the affairs of the inner palace from now, it won't be late at all."
But wasn't that something only an Empress with many days still ahead of her could afford to say? Laniakea didn't bother to voice it. Instead she quietly gathered the documents she had been able to finish with his help. Watching her slip the papers back into her bag, Hyperion smiled—and at that smile, her hands paused mid-motion.
Over the past few days she had caught sight of him passing in the distance several times. Surrounded by as many clerks and ministers as she herself was, he had worn an exceedingly stern expression. She remembered that face perfectly. And yet the man smiling before her now felt so different that she almost doubted he was the same person. Of course an emperor ought to carry himself with the dignity she had seen by day. That was the image everyone expected of him...
For a moment she could only stare blankly at his smile. Honestly, looking at a smiling Hyperion made her face heat before she even realized it. A grave, weighty man, wearing a different face only in front of her. It felt as though she had stolen a glimpse of something she wasn't meant to see.
While she was still lost in that smile, Hyperion had already shifted to sit beside her. It was a fairly large, wide sofa, and yet the moment he sat, her body tipped sharply toward him. He caught her as she nearly fell into him, as naturally as breathing, and then his arm curved around her waist. The clothes were thick, and still the firm arm circling her came through with startling clarity. His ease stole the moment she might have drawn back.
When she didn't push him away, Hyperion tightened his hold. Bodies that had been a handspan apart pressed flush, and his solid thigh came against her leg. Laniakea flinched, belatedly, at the heat of him—but that did nothing to put any distance between her and the firm, heavy weight she felt all along her leg. Before she knew it she was all but held in his arms, and she looked up at him as if to ask what he meant to do.
As if he had read her mind, Hyperion spoke.
"Then shall we see to our business now?"
Our business.
Understanding what he meant, Laniakea swallowed dryly and nodded.
"But I still haven't heard from the Ensi couple what we're to do today. And I haven't even washed yet..."
"I heard it in your place, so that's fine. And there's no need to go and wash. Today we won't be reaching anywhere quite so intimate."
At his answer she ducked her head. Somehow it felt as though she alone had been imagining something intimate, while he had thought nothing of the sort.
"Today you need only stay comfortable. I'll be the one who moves."
Only Hyperion had to move? What on earth was he planning to do? She was certain she had been given an explanation, and yet she only grew more tense. Just as she was about to ask exactly what, he dipped his head—and pressed his lips to her forehead.
A soft peck. It was a light kiss, like a young bird pecking: nothing more than a fleeting brush that tickled.
Is this all for today?
The thought had barely formed when his lips traveled lower. He kissed just above her brow, and she had no choice but to close her eyes. The ticklish kisses continued—over her closed eyelids, her nose, her cheek. For a moment she tensed, wondering if he meant to reach her mouth, but as if to tell her not to worry about that, his lips kept circling elsewhere. The small kisses went on for a long while, and before she knew it Laniakea had grown used to the way he tickled her face. The tension left her.
Then he laced his fingers through hers and tightened his grip.
"Ah..."
The thick joints of his fingers pressed into the tender flesh between hers and rubbed, and Laniakea let out a slow breath before she could stop herself. Then she startled and shut her mouth. It was only a simple stroke along the insides of her fingers, and yet the sound that had escaped her seemed, even to her own ears, faintly edged with a moan. Afraid he might misunderstand, she was about to pull her captured hand free when his thumb stroked the back of it.
It was the spot that, after she had met him last time, had strangely flushed and itched so badly she had scratched at it for a long while. His finger was rubbing precisely there. She had thought it was merely ticklish, and yet, strangely, her lower belly tightened. Thinking that this was odd after all, she tried to draw her hand away—and Hyperion whispered at her ear.
"Is it difficult?"
"Ah—no. It isn't difficult, but..."
"Then do you dislike my holding you?"
"It isn't that either, but..."
She couldn't say that it felt strange. She had no way to explain where, or how. When she mumbled her answer and gave up on pulling her hand free, Hyperion's smile deepened.
"I'm glad. Then let's do what we truly need to do today."
What they truly needed to do? Then what had everything until now been? The question had barely risen when Hyperion buried his face against the nape of her neck.