The Emperor's Star
"...For now, this sudden departure is inconvenient for me as well."
The Emperor said that, slowly leaning back in his chair. The intense rage that had filled the office moments ago had already subsided on the surface. It hadn't vanished completely. It had merely been pushed deep down, leaving only calm on the outside. His eyes remained sharp. But they weren't the kind that flared like flames anymore. There was calculation in them now. The eyes of someone slowly weighing his opponent, gauging the balance, considering how far to yield.
The office fell quiet again. Only a few candles flickered faintly in the darkness. Long shadows stretched along the walls, subtly shifting as if alive.
The Emperor's gaze moved slowly. Past the desk. Past the scattered papers on the floor. And stopped at the one person standing by the door.
It was Philia.
She hadn't moved. She'd been in the same spot since earlier. Her back was straight, her shoulders held at their usual angle—neither tense nor relaxed. The Execution Sword hung quietly at her waist. As if the rage and shouts that had exploded in this office moments ago had no effect on her whatsoever.
The Emperor stared at her for a long while. Truly a long while. Then he let out a very small breath.
"...Still."
He said lowly.
"Coming in here directly like this."
The corner of the Emperor's mouth curved subtly upward.
"It seems you have no intention of running."
Philia said nothing. Her gaze was fixed on the Emperor. Unwavering. Her pupils were serene. Like the eyes of someone left only with conclusions, not emotions.
A brief silence passed.
Then she opened her mouth.
"...There is no reason to run."
Her voice was low. And excessively calm.
The Emperor's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
"Then this letter of resignation..."
He paused for a moment.
Then slowly drew out the words.
"Is it rebellion?"
The candle flames swayed long. The air in the office grew heavier.
Philia lowered her eyes briefly. The red carpet came into view below. Then she raised them again.
"...No."
She said.
"It's a settling of accounts."
The Emperor's eyebrow arched ever so slightly.
"A settling?"
He repeated the word slowly.
And chuckled softly.
"An interesting way to put it."
The Emperor slowly rose from his chair. It was unhurried. A deliberately slow motion, as if stretching out time. His footsteps fell on the red carpet. Almost silent. He took a few steps forward. And stopped at a certain distance from Philia.
There was considerable space between them. But strangely, it felt narrow.
The Emperor stared at her for a long while. That gaze wasn't mere observation. It was like a craftsman taking up a sword he'd used for years, checking for cracks.
"...A settling."
He said lowly.
"Is that what you call the sword I forged leaving its master?"
Philia closed her eyes briefly. For a very short moment. Then opened them again.
"...Your Majesty."
Her voice remained calm.
"If you can't wield the sword well, it cuts you."
The Emperor's pupils trembled ever so subtly. For a moment. A very brief one.
And then.
The next instant, the corner of his mouth slowly rose.
"...Indeed."
He chuckled lowly.
"It's been quite a while since I last heard those words."
His gaze slowly swept over Philia from top to bottom.
"So."
He said.
"What is the reason for your resignation?"
A brief silence. The candle flames swayed once more.
Before answering, Philia drew in a very slight breath.
"...I will seek justice."
Her words were short. But the moment they fell, the air in the office subtly rippled.
The Emperor said nothing for a long while. He was looking at Philia. For a long time. Truly a long time.
And then.
He laughed. This time, more clearly.
"...Justice."
He rolled the word slowly in his mouth.
"When I first brought you here."
The Emperor's eyes darkened ever so subtly.
"What you said while crying."
His mouth curved up.
"Was that."
He shook his head briefly.
"...And I broke it."
The office fell quiet. Those words weren't boastful. Nor regretful. They simply fell like facts.
The Emperor's gaze returned to Philia.
"...And now you say you'll seek it again?"
Philia said nothing for a moment. Then she spoke.
"Yes."
The Emperor closed his eyes briefly upon hearing that answer. Then slowly opened them.
"...Fine."
His voice was low. But firm.
"Let's negotiate."
The candle flames swayed long. The Emperor's eyes gleamed ever so subtly.
"...I have no intention of letting my star go completely."
After a long talk, the promises made with the Emperor came down to four clauses.
The first was summary judgment authority as an Executioner. Sounds impressive, but it's basically a license to kill. You might think it's unexpected, but it was the Emperor's proposal.
"You look like you don't understand."
He said.
"Or maybe you do, but can't believe it."
"...Neither."
The Emperor's eyebrow arched ever so subtly. I continued.
"Just... a little."
I paused briefly. Searching for the right word.
The Emperor waited. That man is good at waiting. He likes making people speak for themselves.
I finally said it.
"...Unexpected."
The Emperor laughed. This time, more clearly.
"Unexpected?"
He repeated the word slowly.
"Yes. You didn't think I'd let you go."
A brief silence. The candle flames swayed long.
The Emperor tapped his fingers. Then added very calmly.
"In that case, you would have tried to kill me."
"...!"
As if sensing my fluster, the corner of his mouth rose slightly.
"...As expected."
He murmured lowly.
"You don't deny it. For you, are options like debate or persuasion nonexistent?"
"...You never taught me."
The moment the words fell, the air in the office felt subtly frozen. The candle flames swayed long. The shadows on the wall rippled once, then settled.
The Emperor said nothing for a moment. His eyes moved very slowly. Staring at Philia's face. That gaze wasn't aggressive. Nor soft. Just observation. Like a craftsman long ago calmly examining a creation of his own starting to function in an unexpected way.
"...I see."
The Emperor said lowly. His voice still calm.
"...That could be."
His eyes narrowed.
"Since I made you into a sword."
A brief silence. The candle flames swayed again.
The corner of the Emperor's mouth curved ever so subtly.
"...A sword doesn't need options like negotiation or persuasion."
He continued slowly.
"It has a target."
"And it cuts."
His gaze dropped to Philia's waist. The Execution Sword hung quietly.
"...And you."
The Emperor said.
"Did it very well."
His voice sounded like praise. But there was no human warmth in that praise. It was the tone of someone evaluating a tool's performance.
The Emperor averted his gaze briefly. Then slowly stepped away. Onto the red carpet. His footsteps were quiet. He moved a few steps to the side. And stopped by the window.
It was night. The Imperial Palace gardens lay shrouded in darkness outside. Faintly, the sound of guards' armor clinking came from afar.
The Emperor looked out the window.
"...Still."
He said lowly.
"It was faster than I thought."
Philia's eyes moved ever so subtly. Without turning, the Emperor continued.
"I thought it would take you at least a few more years."
A brief silence. Then he chuckled softly.
"...But."
"You came back."
His gaze turned to me again.
"...To justice."
The candle flames swayed long. The Emperor exhaled slowly. Then walked back toward the desk. His footsteps stopped. A few steps from me.
He tilted his head slightly.
"...So."
He said.
"What will you do when you find it."
His eyes gleamed ever so subtly.
"That justice you speak of."
A brief silence. The Emperor added very slowly.
"...If."
His voice lowered further.
"That justice."
The candle flames swayed.
"...Points to me."
He laughed. Very softly.
"...Will you cut then too."
The office fell quiet again. I said nothing for a moment. Staring at the Emperor. For a long time.
And then. Very quietly, I opened my mouth.
"...I'll judge then."
The Emperor's eyes widened ever so subtly. For a moment. A very short one.
And he laughed. This time, more clearly.
"...Good."
He said.
"Very good."
The Emperor nodded slowly.
"...Yes."
His eyes looked at Philia. Coldly. But with some amusement somewhere.
"...Go."
He said.
"Go find it. Something no one can doubt, utterly clear..."
"Your justice."
And very quietly added.
"...My star."
The air outside the Imperial Palace was still chilly with dawn. The night hadn't fully ended. The sky remained dark, only the eastern edge faintly lightening.
The palace stone steps had absorbed the night's cold air. A thin chill lay over them.
I descended a few steps and stopped. Exhaled once. White breath floated briefly in the air, then vanished quickly.
The air from the office moments ago still lingered in my lungs. Candle smoke. Herbal scent. And a faint metallic tang.
"My star," huh.
You're just fucking awful.
Was I a star to you?