The Emperor Finally Approved My Marriage
The Emperor eventually approved my marriage. Regardless of my own wishes. Or wait—since I had already answered “yes,” maybe my opinion had been factored in after all? Several days had passed since then. An approval document stamped with the imperial seal had been delivered, and letters concerning the marriage procedures flew back and forth between the Northern Grand Duchy and the imperial family. I could only imagine how many layers of political calculation had been woven into those exchanges.
I dipped the tip of my toe into the shadow spilling beneath the table. The thin darkness twitched once around my ankle. I needed to reorganize my information network. First, I would split the core collection points into two. One would remain in the center—the imperial palace, the capital, the imperial nobles, the Inspectorate, high society, and the upper echelons of the back alleys. The eyes and ears of the black letters would continue their work there as before. The other would be the North, a land I had never properly touched. Once I arrived, I would have to build a fresh network from scratch. And I needed to carve out a new path connecting the two. Information from the capital and information from the North would be meaningless if they operated in isolation. I had to see where the horses dispatched from the imperial family veered off before they reached the North, and what face a rumor born in the North wore by the time it arrived in the capital.
After working that out, I decided I was low on sugar. I picked up the round butter cookie on the table and popped it into my mouth. Ah. Now I could live.
I sat there with a bright, vacant smile, listening to the conversation drifting around me. The imperial family had gathered and were chatting among themselves.
“I wonder why the Grand Duchess of the North specifically wanted Noel?”
Princess Isabel set down her teacup as she spoke.
“Adeline von Ehrenhart is far too calculating a woman for it to be a mere whim.”
“If it isn’t a whim, the reason is obvious,” Fourth Prince Edwin drawled with a lazy smile. He was leaning crookedly in his chair, swirling a glass of wine. “She wants imperial blood in her grasp. Those Northerners are always short on legitimate excuses.”
The Empress glanced at me. Right on cue, I smiled—wide and empty. Hehe. The face of someone who understood nothing.
“Well, our Noel does have a rather pretty face. Perhaps it simply caught the Grand Duchess’s fancy.”
Our. How utterly awkward that word sounded. They had never once welcomed me inside their fence, yet the moment they decided to sell me off, they suddenly remembered the word “our.” The irony of it nearly made me laugh.
“A pretty face, you say.” Edwin chuckled low. “That’s true, Mother. If the youngest simply keeps his mouth shut, he does look rather like a doll.”
“In any case, the matter has already been permitted. The important thing is how we make use of this opportunity,” the First Prince said in a heavy tone. “The North will receive imperial blood.”
“And they will bear the corresponding responsibility,” the Empress quietly added. “Noel has such a frail body. I worry whether he can endure that barren North. What if something unfortunate happens to him?”
“From what I hear, Northerners possess truly ferocious temperaments,” Edwin said, still swirling his wine. The red liquid spun slowly inside the glass. “They learn the sword before they learn words, and hunting before they learn letters. Even small children are said to skin wolves on the snowy fields.”
“That must be an exaggeration,” Isabel laughed.
Edwin shrugged. “Which is probably why the Grand Duchess turned out the way she did. A personality without blood or tears is largely shaped by environment.”
“In a way, she’s rather pitiful,” someone remarked.
Someone has to bleed beyond the castle walls so the people inside can keep their hands clean. And those with clean hands usually convince themselves they are purer than everyone else.
I tilted my head. “Ferocious…?” I deliberately slurred the word like a child repeating something difficult.
Edwin laughed. “Yes, ferocious. It means scary and fierce.”
“Scary?”
“Very scary.” He leaned toward me. “Listen, youngest. When you go to the North, you must behave. If you upset the Grand Duchess for no reason, she might eat you alive.”
“Eat me?” I widened my eyes.
Isabel covered her mouth with the back of her hand. “Brother, stop it. Noel is actually believing you.”
The Empress looked at me with what appeared to be maternal concern. “Noel, if anything happens, you must tell your mother at once. No matter how small, tell me everything.”
Her stroking hand grew firmer. “Yes.” She pulled my trembling body into her arms. “I’m truly worried. I don’t know if a child like this can survive in the North… or whether any unpleasant incidents might occur.”
“We must ensure such things do not happen.”
The imperial family did not view this marriage unfavorably. The reason was simple: I was a disposable card. Yet imperial blood still carried weight as justification. If I lived comfortably in the North, the imperial family could boast of their bond with the North. If I were injured there, they could demand accountability from the North. And if I died in the North… they might even be hoping for it. They might even try to make it happen.
Couldn’t I use that? A way to take revenge on the people in this room. A way to break completely free from the original story. A way to escape everything.
I would fake my death. I would hide the truth inside a fabricated corpse and turn it against them.
While I sat organizing my thoughts, the room had grown quiet without me noticing.
“Why are you spacing out like that? Are you that scared?”
It was the Second Prince, who had remained silent in the corner the entire time.
Cayden de Astrea. The protagonist of How to Tame a Tyrant Emperor. In the original work, the youngest prince is murdered during the struggle for the throne, and Cayden falls into darkness because of it. He eventually eliminates all his siblings and becomes a tyrant emperor. He was also the only one who had ever looked after the illegitimate youngest prince.
That hadn’t changed. He was still the only person who treated the idiot me like a human being.
“I’m not scared.”
“Really? How brave.”
“I’m very brave!” I clenched my fist and shouted with energy.
He gently stroked my head. “Good. I’ll do whatever I can to stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Anything. I’ll protect you so nothing dangerous happens. Whether it’s the Grand Duchess of the North or anyone else, I will protect you.”
I smiled like a fool. “Okay, brother.”
For some reason, Cayden’s smile stabbed painfully into my chest.
The night had grown deep. The imperial palace was silent. I rose quietly from the bed and moved to the desk. The lamp burned low, and thick curtains completely covered the windows. I carefully shifted the shadow at my feet. At once, the shadows I had planted throughout the capital began to stir. They were my ears and my eyes.
I checked the requests that had arrived today, one by one.
The whereabouts of the baroness’s hidden illegitimate child. The double ledger the guild master had concealed. Information that a servant from a noble house planned to report his master to the Inspectorate. Most of them were ordinary. Truths bought with money. Lies buried with power. People believe their own secrets are the most special in the world, yet secrets are almost always the same: desire, fear, money, lust, betrayal. One of those.
I flicked my fingertips. A single sheet of black paper rose from the shadow.
The third request is rejected. Compensation is insufficient. The reward is too cheap for the risk involved.
The fifth request is postponed. It is not yet time to sell this information. If I let it age, I can demand a higher price.
The seventh request is accepted. Information will be delivered before dawn.
It was then that the shadow I had stationed in the Northwestern Alley of the imperial capital trembled faintly.
Between old brick walls. A narrow backstreet where rainwater pooled and drunk mercenaries staggered through after dark. Someone had entered that alley.
I moved the shadow at once. A white mask, a black robe. The bare minimum required to avoid revealing that the information broker had no face.
The guest who stepped inside was a woman with a painfully familiar silhouette. Even covered up, how could I fail to recognize her? The faint jawline and eyes visible beneath the hood.
Adeline von Ehrenhart. The Grand Duchess of the North.
Why was she here?
The shadow information broker silently faced her. Adeline stopped a few steps away.
The shadow spoke first, in a low voice that carried no resonance.
“What information do you require?”
“I want information about the youngest prince.”
I bit my lip. So she, too, intended to use me. There had been a political motive after all. The imperial family’s idiot prince. An easy piece to manipulate. The safest justification for the North to claim. What weakness was she hoping to purchase?
I had expected it, yet the realization still tasted bitter.
“What does His Highness like?”
“Pardon?”
“I wish to give him a gift. What would please him?”
For a moment I was speechless. As I stared blankly, she tilted her head and asked again.
“Is this information difficult to obtain? If so, I will leave.”
Her tone was strangely irritating.
“Haha, of course not. There is nothing in this world I do not know.”