The Emperor
"As expected, Your Highness is most perceptive. That concludes today's lesson, ma'am."
Cloi forced a smile at the noblewoman, who wore a smile as polished as a stage actress's. She knew it wasn't the best response, but it was the most decent expression she could muster right now. These etiquette lessons, utterly pointless in her eyes, were grinding her spirit to dust.
Why the hell does the angle of my fingers matter when I sit down? Why!? Who in the world is perverted enough to care about that!?
She had to curse inwardly just to endure it. And in doing so, she couldn't help but see her own behavior mirroring the antics of her father and brothers that she usually scolded them for. It left her feeling utterly deflated. Everything in the imperial palace felt like it was squeezing the life out of her. Even Vivian, whom she thought was her sole ally, couldn't stray from her assigned areas, making casual chats impossible outside the privacy of her chambers.
I should've just retreated to the temple after all.
She sighed in relief once the etiquette instructor had departed, then scooped up the silver puppy at her feet.
"Wol. What would I do without you?"
"Woof? Snuff, woof."
Startled from a sound sleep, Wolrang wriggled under Cloi's tickling fingers on his belly.
"Come to big sis."
"Snuff."
With the resigned look of do whatever you want, Wolrang flopped fully into her arms and promptly resumed his snoring.
And at that moment—
—His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince has arrived.
The door creaked open slowly to a low voice from outside. Cloi startled, gently set Wolrang down, and rose from her chair. A handsome young man with golden eyes entered, offering a gentle smile.
"You've worked hard again today, Lady Cloi."
"Your Highness, you could just call me your consort... It makes me uncomfortable."
"No, no. We haven't held the formal wedding yet, so propriety must be observed. Ah, of course, this doesn't mean I'll disregard it after the ceremony. Haha."
A faint smile tugged at Cloi's lips at his clumsy joke. This future husband was her second lifeline in this suffocating palace life.
"You're so busy, yet you keep visiting like this...?"
"Well... because I'm busy, I wanted to draw some strength from you."
"...Pardon?"
"Lately, it feels like I only get motivated after seeing your face."
Cloi's cheeks flushed slightly.
The empire's crown prince, and he picks the sweetest words like that.
The stress coiled in her chest began to melt away. But then—
"Seeing you isn't empty words—it's genuine. But today, I have a somewhat difficult request as well, my lady."
The crown prince, who usually came daily for light chats, wore an uncharacteristically grave expression. Tension gripped Cloi instinctively.
"...Anything, Your Highness. Just say the word."
"You know about the dinner appointment with His Majesty tonight, right?"
"Yes, of course. That's why I was taking etiquette lessons today..."
"Even if His Majesty says something hurtful, please bear it for my sake. Discreetly."
"...Pardon?"
What on earth...?
She couldn't help but look baffled.
"...It's somewhat known publicly, but His Majesty harbors ill feelings toward House Valentia... or rather, toward my father-in-law specifically. Given his unparalleled position among the nobles."
"What?!"
Cloi's voice rose unbidden. She'd heard the rumors but had always dismissed them.
Then why make me crown princess...?
As if reading her confusion, the crown prince smiled softly and took her hand.
"But I see it differently. Just as you and I are together, the imperial family must stand with House Valentia. That's the purpose of this marriage. However, since I pushed for it so forcefully, it's made His Majesty even more displeased. Please understand, just a little."
"...Yes."
As her expression dimmed in response, he gripped both her hands tightly, realizing his misstep.
"Ah, of course, the biggest reason I pushed this marriage is because I fell for you. That's the truth, so please don't doubt my feelings."
"Yes, Your Highness."
He'd always been kind and considerate, but this time, he misread her heart. Cloi was the daughter of a high noble, raised from childhood on duties to her house. She'd pondered between convent and marriage, but political unions held no aversion for her. If anything, she was relieved her betrothed seemed gentle.
The reason her face hardened was—
If even someone who always speaks kindly warns me like this, His Majesty's grudge against House Valentia must be severe...
The hostility toward her family, evident even in the crown prince's words, filled her with worry. But—
No, don't worry prematurely. It might just be his overprotectiveness. Even if it is...
Ever the optimist, she forced a smile, trying to think positively. And in that moment, an idea slipped out unthinkingly.
"Your Highness, I'm afraid I'll be too nervous... Could I perhaps bring Wol when meeting His Majesty...?"
"Woof?"
Wolrang's floppy ears perked up, but the crown prince shook his head with a regretful face.
"...No, that's not possible, my lady. I'm truly sorry."
"Ah, no, it's fine. That was foolish of me. My apologies, Your Highness."
Of course not.
She stroked Wolrang's head wistfully, her mind racing.
Father said it's been ages since he last saw His Majesty. If the grudge is worse than rumored, I need to inform the family.
Times were chaotic enough, and she knew her father was on high alert to palace intrigues.
* * *
"His Imperial Majesty the Emperor enters!"
At the eunuch's cry, the massive, ornate doors swung open, and a retinue entered the throne room. The crown prince and Cloi, waiting within, bowed deeply and knelt.
An elderly man in resplendent golden dragon silk robes and a crown carved with a golden dragon—the Emperor—passed them at a glacial pace toward the jade throne. It took nearly a minute to cover the twenty meters. As he slumped into the seat—
"We pay homage to His Imperial Majesty the Emperor! Long live! Long live! Long may he reign!"
"We pay homage to His Imperial Majesty the Emperor! Long live! Long live! Long may he reign!"
At the eunuch's signal, the crown prince and Cloi intoned together. The Emperor nodded slowly down at them.
"Rise."
"Your benevolence humbles us."
"Your benevolence humbles us."
As Cloi lifted her head, reciting the ritual phrases she'd rehearsed, her eyes met the Emperor's piercing gaze. The intensity made her flinch. His snow-white hair and wrinkled face bore the marks of age, but his golden eyes—mark of the golden dragon's lineage—burned fiercely. His impassive face made her shrink involuntarily under that glinting stare.
Then—
"Have you been well, Father?"
The crown prince's calm voice from beside her drew the burdensome gaze away.
"Of course I'm well. With you handling most state affairs, why wouldn't I be?"
The words from his emotionless face felt chillingly cold for a father to his son. Yet the crown prince remained unshaken.
"I participate in governance per imperial custom, but the empire is ever Father's. The authority I wield stems solely from Your Majesty's will."
However—
"...Then will you return that authority?"
The Emperor's follow-up caught him off guard, making even him flinch. Their eyes locked—father and son, yet far too icy for kin.
"If you wish..."
"Enough."
The crown prince's words were cut short after a brief silence.
"All the nobles would revolt anyway. The Emperor who barely held onto the palace mage tower and knight order with their support—returning now? Absurd."
The crown prince, who'd forced composure, bit his lip hard.
"...It followed imperial law, Father."
"Am I the only one curious how that law stands above the Emperor?"
A law crafted to prevent any one tyrant from ruining the empire. The ambition to overturn it seeped through his words, forcing the crown prince to grind his teeth.
How can a man cling to greed like this? What glory is left to grasp...?
Father is truly the empire's blight.
He swallowed words he could never voice aloud and drew a shallow breath.
"Per that very law, I bring Lady Cloi of House Valentia, future crown princess."
Emphasizing the law's supremacy, he introduced his bride. The Emperor turned his gaze back to her with a faint snort.
"Yes, I know well. Daughter of the one who dares call himself another Emperor."
"Your Majesty, that's just a nickname from ignorant subjects! Please don't take it seriously..."
The crown prince interjected unusually heatedly, but—
"Cloi, daughter of Eschard von Valentia, the Empire's Sword, pays her respects, Your Majesty."
Cloi's calm, matter-of-fact voice drew a glint in the Emperor's eyes.
"...The Empire's Sword?"
"My father recently bested the Alliance's sword and earned excessive renown. But is it not all for the empire's glory?"
A softened plea not to pettily check him. The Emperor furrowed his brow briefly before chuckling and shaking his head.
"...Ha, haha, hahahaha! Indeed! Like father, like daughter. The crown prince picked a perfect match for himself."
After his booming laughter, words spilled—praise or scorn, unclear. His expression gave nothing away.
"I don't dislike that boldness. But from now on, that shrewdness must serve only the imperial family, Crown Princess."
"...I shall remember."
"No, this is no mere formality—it's a warning. To you as lady and to the duke."
"Father!"
The crown prince cried out urgently, but the Emperor pressed on heedless.
"House Aslan's bloodline, ordained rulers of humanity since antiquity, stands above all men by right. Remember this: petty titles like superhuman or Sword Emperor can never surpass the imperial family!"
Madness gleamed unmistakably in his eyes as he bellowed. Cloi's face paled; she couldn't muster her prior boldness.
But—
—Woof!
—What ruler's bloodline... As expected, top fucking god among the fucking gods.
From the thick folds of her formal gown pocket, the finger-sized spirit beast listening to the Emperor smirked viciously. Wolrang's owner had heard every word.