Meeting His Imperial Majesty (2)
Meeting His Imperial Majesty (2)
My mother and I stepped into the Audience Chamber.
Ministers and attendants stood at attention with proper decorum, but only one presence in the room burned unmistakably bright.
On a slightly raised dais, a woman sat upon an ornate seat, gazing down at us. A crown rested atop her head.
She was the one above all others. The absolute Empress of this empire.
But seeing the empress for the first time, I found myself entertaining a rather impious thought.
How does an empress have pink hair?
Probably because of Ryu Si-u's preconception that pink was a feminine color. Before I could even register imperial majesty, I'd already thought, Her hair color is cute.
After standing there a moment with my mouth slightly agape, I followed my mother's lead as she dropped to one knee in obeisance.
"Erengard von Nordkirchen greets Her Majesty the Empress, the sun of the Empire."
My mother offered her greeting. As I knelt beside her, glancing around nervously and wondering what to do, a feeble voice descended from above.
"Erengard. Did I not say there is no need for excessive formality."
"How could I dare be so disloyal."
"...Very well. Raise your head, Erengard. And your child."
Only after hearing the command to raise our heads did I cautiously lift mine.
The Empress looked at my mother, then at me, her eyes carrying a hint of sorrow.
"Let me see... You are Yunes, yes? Come closer."
"Your Majesty...?"
She suddenly beckoned me to her side. Startled, I looked at my mother with wide eyes, and she gave a small nod as if to say there was nothing to fear.
...Really? No matter how little majesty I felt, this was Her Majesty the Empress. Was it truly all right for me, someone who barely knows court etiquette, to go so close?
I shuffled forward nervously.
"...Yes, Your Majesty."
I wasn't sure if this was proper, but refusing a summons would be worse, so I approached with hesitant steps.
Every gaze in the Audience Chamber pierced into me—the Empress's gaze included.
"Good. Yunes. I have heard much about you. I was told your condition kept worsening. It gladdens my heart to see you looking so well."
Up close, the weary, hollow shadows lingering at the corners of her eyes became unmistakably clear.
She looked at me with those eyes and spoke with what sounded like genuine approval.
Not knowing how to respond, I opted for a little humility.
"...It is all thanks to the Empire, and to Your Majesty the Empress."
"Pfft. As if I did anything."
But the laughter that returned had a thread of emptiness woven through it. A strangely self-deprecating laugh.
"...Your Majesty."
"Erengard. You come forward as well. My eyes have grown dim of late, and I cannot see far very well."
She summoned my mother forward too.
Unlike me, Mother rose at once and strode closer in quick, sure steps.
As I turned my eyes to watch her, a hand came to rest gently on my head.
The owner of that hand was none other than the Empress.
She stroked my hair softly.
"Erengard. You are remarkable. It is astonishing enough that you inherited the Grand Ducal Throne without trouble at such a young age. But to tend to your ailing son with love, and finally make him bloom this beautifully..."
"You flatter me."
The Empress spoke with my mother while stroking my hair, yet her touch held no strength at all.
As a flicker of puzzlement crossed my mind, she spoke again.
"Meanwhile, I cannot even look after my own body."
"...."
A shadow of distress spread across my mother's face at those words.
I, too, was inwardly shocked by her self-mockery—it was not something I expected from an empress.
"Your Majesty the Empress. Are you unwell...?"
On impulse, I spoke to her.
My heart lurched, wondering if addressing the Empress without leave was grossly disrespectful, but judging by how neither my mother nor the Empress seemed bothered, it appeared to be acceptable.
The Empress smiled faintly at my question.
"...Enough. I have spoken foolish words on an occasion of significance. Let us change the subject."
"...."
"Let me see... Ah. Your attire is truly splendid. From afar, I thought it might be a maid outfit, but up close, it certainly carries the refined dignity befitting the youngest son of the Grand Ducal House. It suits you very well. So I shall guarantee it: tonight, the star of the ballroom will be you, Yunes."
With that, the Empress swiftly shifted the topic and complimented my clothes.
She was encouraging a ten-year-old noble son on the day of his debutante ball. I bowed my head and offered thanks.
"Thank you, Your Majesty the Empress."
"Good. Now, today is a very important day for you. It would be a shame if I kept you here any longer. Erengard, do you have more to say?"
"...I do not."
"Then go and prepare for the ball. I shall be expecting Yunes's dance."
* * * * * *
The brief audience ended, and we exited the Audience Chamber.
As we walked silently through the garden connecting the Outer Palace and Inner Palace, my mother drew me toward the garden's edge.
I looked up, wondering what was happening.
A soft, sibilant whisper of power spread outward, and blue mana swirled from my mother's body, enveloping us both.
She knelt down to meet my eyes.
"Yune. What are your impressions from your audience with Her Majesty the Empress? No sound will escape, so speak honestly."
"...It grieved me that Her Majesty looked ill."
With the soundproofing measures firmly in place, I answered her question openly, just as she had asked.
I told her that the expression on the Empress's face—like one worn by a person living with a terminal condition—had struck me as pitiable.
"I knew you would say that, Yune."
"Is Her Majesty truly... very unwell?"
"She is. I had heard her condition was worsening rapidly of late, but I did not realize it had come to this."
Hearing my reply, my mother let out a deep sigh. It was typical of her—a woman who never hid her pride as a noble or her loyalty to the Imperial Household and the greater Empire.
She glanced at me again.
"This is why I took you to see Her Majesty. When word reached me that her condition had grown severe, I wondered if perhaps... if perhaps you, with that uncanny knowledge from Ryu Si-u, might be able to heal Her Majesty's illness."
"Hm..."
At her question about whether a cure existed, I folded my arms and rifled through my memories.
But I didn't even know what kind of status ailment afflicted the Empress—or if it even was a status ailment. No answers came to mind.
"First, I'd need to know the status ailment... no, the illness. From what I saw just now, I can't tell what sort of sickness it is. Not that I could figure it out just by looking more closely."
"I see."
At my less-than-hopeful words, my mother exhaled deeply, admitting it had been an excessive hope.
Still, there wasn't much to be done. I'm no Hua Tuo; how could I diagnose a disease just by outward appearances?
If I didn't know the illness, I couldn't cure it either. The best I could think of was using potions to temporarily improve her condition for a very short time—
...Wait.
"Actually, now that I think about it... there might be a way. I'm not certain, though."
"...!? Tell me more."
"First, we bring a lot of potions and..."
* * * * * *
The current ruler of the Kaiserreich Empire, Kaiserin Eduard Leopold von Hohenstein—Kaiserin, for short.
She had been memorizing her speech for the upcoming Founding Festival but now tossed the vellum aside. The words refused to stay in her head.
What filled her mind instead were thoughts of the mother and son she had met a short while ago.
Erengard. Truly, you are remarkable. It cannot have been easy for a woman to raise a sickly boy alone, yet you have reared him so splendidly. And into such a fine child who so clearly adores his parent.
First, Erengard. Despite her position as Grand Duchess, she swore absolute fealty to Kaiserin, and she had grown dear to the Empress for it. So dear that Kaiserin accepted at once without hesitation when she asked to bring her son for an audience.
Now Kaiserin turned over her impressions of the small boy beside Erengard—Yune.
It has been about a year and a half since he rose from his sickbed, has it not? His etiquette is so clumsy that he must have lacked proper teaching... but I cannot bring myself to find him disagreeable. I can feel his kind heart. Goodness. I would almost like to ask how on earth Erengard raised her child so well.
Speaking first to the empress was typically the sort of disloyalty that warranted a harsh scolding, but he was the son of a trusted vassal, and he himself was endearingly sweet-natured.
Kaiserin had taken a strong liking to Yune. So much so that she, the reigning empress, personally complimented a debutante's attire and even resolved to praise him again at the ball.
This was an enormous boon for Yune. The empress personally praising a young noble's attire at their social debut? Every aristocrat in the Empire knew what that would mean on the political battlefield of High Society—except, of course, Yune himself.
He already held the formidable advantage of being the youngest son of the Grand Ducal House. But if he debuted with the empress's explicit favor shining upon him as well?
It was blindingly obvious what standing Yune would hold in High Society going forward.
...Of course, that was all under the assumption that Yune would safely graduate from the Academy, marry, and formally begin his social activities.
In any case, she had resolved to bestow enormous goodwill upon him. And soon enough, she began silently comparing herself to Erengard.
To raise an ailing child with such an upright heart... I, who have neglected the Crown Princess in my daily busyness and may soon leave this world to sickness, am worlds apart from her. As a parent, Erengard is leagues above me.
The priests who examined her had said that if things stayed as they were, she would waste away and die in under three years. She burned with envy toward Erengard, who could keep guiding and protecting Yune.
Kaiserin had been so focused on justly ruling the Empire that she barely saw the face of her one and only daughter. And with the time she had left, she would not spend it with her child—instead, she must bury herself in even more work to prepare the abdication.
A heavy stone settled in the pit of her chest.
The terror of soon having to leave the world, and a terror many times stronger—the fear of leaving her child alone.
But she did not yet know.
"Your Majesty. Grand Duchess Erengard von Nordkirchen says she wishes to see you again."
"...? Did she not just leave? What is the reason?"
"She said, 'I cannot speak at length, but it is for Your Majesty's sake.' And... she wishes to have the audience in a place unseen by others. Without attendants or retainers. Alone with her son."
"Oh. A private audience? What on earth could this be about? ...Well. Erengard is not a woman to trouble me with frivolous matters. Inform her that I shall meet her at once. Have a room prepared for the reception."
"Yes."
She did not yet know the fact that a small, adorable being named Yune would utterly erase that terror.
That the stone crushing her chest would vanish without a trace under Yune's gentle touch.