[No title provided]
The secretary had no intention of returning the handkerchief. "Arian, I'll be off."
Franz, with the carriage waiting behind him, spoke to Arian who had come to see him off. The destination went without saying—of course it was the Imperial Palace. The Emperor himself had sent a personal letter; there was no refusing that.
"Yes, I'll be waiting."
Arian's voice carried a strange tremor, and her hands fidgeted anxiously, clenching and unclenching. A faint worry stirred in Franz's chest. Is something going on again—? But he didn't voice it. He'd already told her to speak up anytime if something was weighing on her, so if she wasn't saying anything, there must be a good reason.
Well, the farewell was done. Now it was time to head to the palace. Just as his lingering gaze on Arian shifted toward the carriage—
"M-Master of the Tower…!"
Arian's urgent voice made Franz turn back to her.
"What? Something wrong?"
"W-Well…"
Arian's eyes shook violently, like an earthquake had hit, and her hands flailed aimlessly in the air. Whatever it was, she looked utterly flustered. So he waited. Until the chaos settled.
He wouldn't mind delaying the trip to the palace by a little, either.
A brief moment passed, and then—whoosh—Arian let out a long breath, her erratic movements finally stopping. She seemed to have calmed down.
"I-It’s nothing much, but…"
Approaching him hesitantly like a shy child, Arian held something out. A handkerchief. The kind that screamed luxury at first glance.
"You lent me your handkerchief and haven’t bought a new one yet."
She was right, of course. He hadn't purchased a replacement since lending it to her. But…
"How did you know that?"
She said it so matter-of-factly, as if it were common knowledge, leaving his mind blank for a second. No one could speak with such certainty without spying or something.
"Because you're you, Master of the Tower? I figured you'd just find it too annoying and skip buying one."
"Oh, just a guess, then?"
"Isn't that obvious?"
Fair enough. They'd been stuck together from morning till night for the past year, after all. She could easily predict his habits like that. And her utterly baffled expression only reinforced her sincerity.
Well, if Arian said so, then it must be true. He decided to let it slide without overthinking. No point in sowing needless suspicion and hurting feelings.
"So, you gonna take the handkerchief or not?"
"Of course. I'll put it to good use."
Franz tucked the handkerchief Arian offered into his coat pocket.
"Alright, I'm really off now."
"Yes, safe travels."
Unlike their earlier exchange, Arian's voice was perfectly calm now. Her hands were neatly folded, no trace of anxiety. It really had just been about the handkerchief, apparently.
Relieved, Franz waved to her and boarded the carriage. Soon after, a faint vibration hummed through as it began to move.
Propping his chin on the window sill, Franz gazed at the shifting scenery outside, lost in thought.
How long has it been since I last went to the Imperial Palace?
The last time was when he first became Master of the Tower—a full year ago. He'd been saddled with all sorts of tasks back then, too.
━ Take care of the remaining monsters a bit.
━ Could you lend some power to repairing the collapsed walls?
━ Infuse vitality into the lands devastated by demon attacks…
The Emperor had asked personally, so refusal wasn't an option. What could he do? When the boss says jump, you jump. He'd just busted his ass like a dog.
Of course, the Emperor hadn't used him for free. There had been compensation—gold coins, treasures, jewels. It just didn't feel like pay since he had no use for such luxuries. He already had more money than he could spend in a lifetime.
He'd rather have spent that time handling work at the Tower or crashing in some corner.
Anyway, just like always, the Emperor probably had some request this time too…
Guess I'll have to hustle…
If he hated it that much, he'd have to stage a coup and take the throne himself. But no matter how he thought about it, this seemed way easier. The Emperor's face was aging by the day; that crown must weigh a ton.
Franz's carriage had already entered the capital city by now. About an hour after departing the Tower—an absurdly fast trip.
The distance from the Magic Tower to the capital's Imperial Palace should've taken at least three days by carriage, four if unlucky.
This was Franz's doing, really. The bumpy dirt roads had jolted the whole vehicle, and unable to stand it, he'd teleported the entire carriage.
Maybe I should research carriages a bit.
Wheels were inevitable, but suspensions? He could probably manage that. It'd make for a much smoother ride.
Lost in such idle thoughts, how much time passed? The carriage gradually slowed, then stopped entirely. Peering out the window revealed a colossal palace whose size defied measurement.
He'd arrived at the Imperial Palace.
Whoosh—Franz let out a preemptive sigh for whatever lay ahead and stepped out.
As he approached the gates, a familiar face greeted him.
"Oh, if it isn't the Master of the Tower?"
The Captain of the Imperial Knights beamed and offered a greeting. They'd built a rapport since the hero party first formed—they were pretty close, despite the age gap. He was easy to talk to and treated Franz, far his junior, with genuine respect. It was admirable.
"Long time no see, Captain."
Franz bowed politely. Rank aside, it was out of respect for the man.
"Come on, no need to bow like that."
"I've always done it this way."
"And it's always a problem."
A brief silence fell, then they both burst out laughing in unison. The stuffiness since leaving the Tower vanished in that one laugh.
People say you gotta laugh to live—makes sense now.
"Oh, right. What brings you to the palace, anyway?"
"…His Majesty summoned me."
"Istar Duchy business?"
Franz nodded curtly. He didn't even want to mention that guy's name. Causing trouble wasn't enough; now he had to clean it up. Total pain in the ass.
Did his feelings show? The Captain gave him a sympathetic look.
"I'll escort you, then. This way."
"Yes, thank you."
The Captain led the way through the massive gates, and Franz followed.
Never gets any less impressive.
Fitting for the Emperor's home—ornate decorations everywhere, impeccably tended flowers. Everything screamed grandeur. Not that he wanted to live here; the sheer scale just left him awestruck.
How much time passed after passing the gates? Franz finally arrived at the audience chamber.
Two knights guarded the doors—both powerhouses on par with the Captain. Franz turned to them.
"Tell them Master of the Tower Franz Gilbert has arrived."
One knight nodded silently. He turned to the ornate doors, rapped them rhythmically with his knuckles.
"Your Majesty, Master of the Tower Franz Gilbert requests an audience."
His voice boomed with authority and precision. Moments later, a low voice echoed from within.
"Enter."
With the Emperor's permission, the two knights flung the doors wide open. The audience chamber lay before Franz.
It wasn't anything special, really—just a massively spacious office.
Stepping inside, Franz dropped to his knees and bowed his head. The first time had felt humiliating, but now? Routine. He was basically a local.
"Master of the Tower Franz Gilbert greets the sun of the Empire."
"Franz, raise your head. We're beyond that, you and I."
What 'we' are you talking about? One-sided labor exploitation?
He wanted to snap back, but that was impossible. Not if he wanted to keep living on Empire soil. Treason meant clan execution.
No choice—he lifted his head to face the Emperor.
Snow-white hair, eyes shadowed with fatigue. The Emperor looked like he was having a rough time too.
"Good of you to come, Franz."
A smile spread across the Emperor's lips. Ominously so.