The Emperor, Carvelius III (Part 1)
“How unexpected.”
Jerome Crowner, Commander of the Gloria Knights, muttered under his breath as he stepped out of the Emperor’s Palace. A man fond of sleeping late, only a single matter could have dragged him to the imperial residence at such an ungodly hour: he had come to deliver a report regarding the Third Prince and his nanny.
Yet contrary to his expectations, the Emperor’s response had been utterly lukewarm.
“Do as you see fit.”
When Jerome asked if the boy could participate in the knights’ drills, those five words were all he received in return. It was an ambiguous reaction—impossible to read as genuine interest, yet just as difficult to dismiss as indifference. Jerome frowned, recalling the sovereign’s detached expression.
“What in the world is going through that head of his?”
The Emperor and Jerome had known each other since childhood. An adoptee of a ducal house and an eccentric outcast of the imperial family, the two had gotten along famously well in their youth. Even so, there were moments when Jerome found the sovereign completely inscrutable. Just like today.
Telling me to do as I see fit… The moment things don’t align with what he secretly wants, he’ll throw a fit anyway.
Jerome attempted to divine the Emperor’s hidden motives for a moment longer before abandoning the effort altogether.
“Well, it’s not as if he forbade it. He told me to do whatever I pleased, so I might as well do just that.”
Reaching a brisk conclusion, the duke turned his strides toward the knight order’s grounds. At that time, he had no way of knowing that this casual choice of his would mark a monumental turning point in a young boy’s life.
“Welcome, Your Highness. I am Philip Meyer, Vice Commander of the Gloria Knights.”
Sir Philip Meyer. With his fastidious, sharp-edged demeanor, he was quite renowned throughout the imperial palace. It was only natural, considering he was an exceptional talent who had risen from commoner stock to the rank of vice commander in his late twenties through sheer merit.
“I-It is an honor to meet you, Sir Philip,” Edwin stammered, awkwardly returning the knight’s crisp salute.
“Please lower your speech, Your Highness. I am merely a knight.”
“Pardon? Ah, but still…”
“Your Highness will be joining the Third Division’s training regiment today.”
Having delivered his piece, Philip quietly looked down at the Third Prince. The young royal looked visibly terrified.
They said the Third Imperial Consort was a peerless beauty. It seems the boy takes after his mother.
Looking upon the prince’s face, Philip found himself marveling despite the circumstances. Honey-golden hair, striking azure eyes, and refined, delicate features. It was a dazzling beauty so radiant it almost felt wasted on a boy.
Though I suppose that is all he has to offer.
A prince born of a ruined kingdom’s princess. An abandoned, powerless burden. A pretty boy, nothing more. That was the extent of the vice commander’s first impression.
“The nanny accompanied you as well, I see.” Philip turned a dissatisfied gaze toward the woman standing behind the prince.
“Good day to you again, Sir Philip.” Rachel remained entirely unruffled by his prickly attitude. “I have come to observe. It is my duty as his nanny.”
“The drill will take approximately three hours. Do you truly intend to wait?” Believing no delicate noblewoman could possibly endure the biting heat of the midday spring sun, Philip turned aside. “We cannot leave a fair young lady standing under the scorching sun. Allow me to escort you to the reception parlor—”
“You must have witnessed many flowers wither under the spring sun, Sir Philip.”
Philip blinked in bewilderment at her unexpected retort.
“I appreciate your courtesy, but my duty is to remain by His Highness’s side. I shall stay right here.”
Faced with the nanny’s resolute tone, the knight let out a resigned sigh and backed down. “Very well. I shall lead you to the training grounds at once.”
Edwin braced his hands against his knees, staring blankly at the dirt beneath his feet. His breath tore violently through his throat, and his lungs had reached their absolute breaking point long ago. A strange, rasping wheeze rattled inside his chest. To his exhausted senses, this felt far more grueling than when he had fled for his life from the magic beasts in Luxen.
“Pick up the pace, you sluggish bastards! Do you dare call yourselves the empire’s finest knights while crawling like slugs?!”
A roaring reprimand snapped Edwin’s head up. The ranks of the Gloria Knights’ Third Division had already left him far behind, their orderly formation disappearing into the distance ahead.
Isn’t the Third Division supposed to be the least skilled division in the entire Gloria Knights? And yet…
Even so, Edwin could not close the distance. He could not even hide behind the excuse of his youth; many of the recruits running among the ranks appeared barely in their mid-teens. A bitter wave of shame and helplessness crashed over him, making him grind his teeth.
“Haah… haah…”
Edwin stared dazedly at the retreating backs of the knights, then forced his legs to move once more.
“Ngh!”
A pained groan slipped past his clenched jaw. Yet he refused to stop. The words Rachel had spoken to him before coming here echoed vividly in his mind.
“Your Highness will participate in the knight order’s training from now on.”
“What? That’s absurd!”
“You need not worry; it is merely physical conditioning.”
“B-But how could I possibly…?”
To Edwin, who had shrunk back in fright, Rachel had declared with absolute certainty:
“Your Highness, did you not say that you wished to become strong? Then mark my words.” Her eyes had been more grave and resolute than he had ever seen them. “If you cannot even endure this training, you will never grow strong for as long as you live.”
Edwin drove his feet into the earth with every ounce of strength he possessed. The image of his nanny, who always looked him dead in the eye, flickered across his vision. Standing tall and unyielding, her posture had brokered no room for surrender.
“Aaaaaargh!”
Letting out a wild roar, Edwin sprinted after the distant squad of knights.
Running is the one thing I’m good at! I refuse to fall behind in this, of all things!
This time, he was not running to flee from danger. He was running to catch up with someone. That was why he could not afford to lose.
“Urgh…!”
Though his breath choked his windpipe, Edwin refused to give up. His handsome face twisted into an agonizing grimace, shedding every shred of royal dignity. Because of his single-minded struggle, the young prince failed to realize that there was more than one pair of eyes watching him from above.
“So, may I ask why you felt compelled to grace my office at such an hour?” Jerome asked, speaking to the figure standing by the high window.
The man who had been looking down at the ranks ascending the mountain slowly turned his head. “Your Imperial Majesty.”
Copper-brown curly hair and piercing blue eyes. An unassuming, rustic appearance and a slight stature that seemed entirely at odds with the title of ‘Emperor.’
It was the reigning monarch of the Ventrum Empire, Carvelius III.
“It causes me a great deal of trouble when you wander about without an escort,” Jerome remarked casually without a hint of deference. “I am far too old to be scolded by my younger sister.”
“I hardly think the Empress has the temperament to scold anyone.” The Emperor replied offhandedly, thoroughly accustomed to Jerome’s banter.
“Well, she only shows her gentler side to Your Majesty.”
“That may indeed be true.” Leaning against the railing, the Emperor continued, “So, why did you bring that child here?” His cold gaze remained fixed on the top of Edwin’s head as the boy desperately struggled to keep up with the tail end of the formation.
“Did Your Majesty not instruct me to do as I pleased?”
“And it seems you truly took me at my word this time.”
When the Emperor let his displeasure show, Jerome merely shrugged. “There are times when I prefer not to divine Your Majesty’s unspoken thoughts.”
“A disloyal subject, through and through.”
“You flatter me, Sire.”
A soft, dry laugh escaped the Emperor at Jerome’s retort. “You are likely the only man alive who dares speak to me in such a manner.”
“Did Your Majesty not grant me permission to do so?”
“Yes, I suppose I did. You are a retainer more precious to me than my own flesh and blood.”
The Emperor stood in silence for a long time, watching the ridge of the mountain. “Edith Lionel, was it? The name of the woman who bore that child.”
“It was, Your Majesty.”
The Emperor’s voice was utterly barren, as if he were discussing someone who had never had the slightest connection to him. “Back then, I had no doubt that Lionel would unite the West.”
Jerome regarded him in silence. The late Third Imperial Consort, Edith Lionel, had been the sole princess of the Lionel Kingdom. Over a decade ago, Carvelius III had taken her as his consort purely to secure an alliance with her homeland. However, she passed away shortly after giving birth to a princess, and the Lionel Kingdom was later crushed and conquered by the King of Adamant. Consequently, any political backing from Lionel had vanished into thin air.
“That boy possesses no qualities of a ruler.” The Emperor’s eyes as he watched Edwin were ruthless. While another might have found the boy’s desperate struggle endearing, it clearly evoked no such sentiment in the sovereign. “Do you believe that effort can overcome innate talent, Duke?”
“I believe it can, to a certain degree.”
“Then we stand on opposite ends.” The Emperor curled one side of his mouth into a sneer. “His foundation was lacking from the very beginning. Thus, to me, he is nothing more than a useless piece.”
“One can never say for certain, Sire.”
At the duke’s quiet remark, the Emperor turned his head, his eyes narrowing with deep suspicion. “Duke Crowner, why did you accept that child?”
“Did I not mention it before? The Third Prince’s nanny came to me and asked in person, so I merely granted her request.”
“The nanny?” The Emperor’s brow furrowed. “If it is the nanny… could it be that woman from back then?”
“Pardon?”
“…It is nothing.” The Emperor waved his hand dismissively and changed the subject. “How unlike you. To grant a favor to a mere nanny.”
“As Your Majesty well knows, I have never been very good at refusing a lady’s plea.”
“You certainly had no trouble refusing the Second Consort’s requests.” Remembering the Second Imperial Consort, who had come weeping to him demanding that Jerome be punished for his insolence, the Emperor clicked his tongue. “So, you expect me to believe that a grand duke of the empire swayed like grass in the wind over the simple plea of a nanny?”
“Haha, well, I suppose that is essentially what happened.”
“Drop the empty pretense, Jerome Crowner.”
In an instant, the atmosphere around the Emperor shifted. A biting, suffocating chill settled over the room.
“Tell me your true motive. Do you have no desire to see your nephew take the throne?”