The Emperor's Blush and the Marriage Rumors
Plunk.
The quill pen slipped from Edwin’s suddenly limp hand.
Yet Edwin didn’t even register the fact.
His mind was far too deeply absorbed elsewhere.
Covering his flushed face with one hand, Edwin mumbled under his breath.
“It touched me.”
The words slipped out as if leaking between his teeth. The moment his own voice echoed back to him, the sensation he had been trying to forget surged up again—the feeling of Miss Diaz’s arm linking with his, the brush of her touch against his sleeve.
By the time his thoughts reached that point, Edwin’s face burned as though it were on fire.
Determined to uphold chivalry, he forcibly cut off the memory.
After clearing his throat several times, Edwin glanced around the empty office for no reason at all and muttered to himself.
“Summer is summer. It’s hot.”
He blamed the heat coursing through his body on the weather.
Never mind that the battlefields where he had spent years were in the eastern region, where temperatures ran far higher than the capital. Never mind that the Emperor’s office was stocked with the latest magical devices that maintained perfect comfort through every season.
In any case, it was definitely the weather’s fault.
Cheeks still blazing, Edwin snatched up a thick bundle of documents and fanned himself vigorously.
The fact that they were critical papers concerning the re-negotiation of reparations with the Kingdom of Bellot never crossed his mind. Cooling the fever in his body took absolute priority.
For a long while, the only sound in the office was the flutter of pages.
Knock, knock.
Just as the documents were being crumpled beyond salvation, a knock cut through Edwin’s wandering thoughts.
“...Enter.”
Edwin finally acknowledged the sound and granted permission, still fanning himself without pause.
“Your Majesty.”
The man who stepped inside was exactly who Edwin had expected—Kylus.
Edwin’s emotions had been swelling like an overinflated balloon. The moment he saw someone he could actually confide in, his eyes sparkled. Kylus was almost the only person before whom he could discard all pretense and speak honestly.
Kylus, however, froze the instant he saw the lingering flush on Edwin’s face. For a split second, an expression that clearly said I’ve walked in at the wrong time flickered across his features.
He instinctively took a step back, then planted his feet and stood firm. The mind of the man who called himself the Emperor’s chief advisor began spinning at full speed.
Soon he opened his mouth with a deadly serious expression.
“It concerns the crown princess.”
Edwin’s softened features hardened by degrees.
“What about her?”
Edwin tossed the documents aside like a discarded fan and leaned back lazily in his chair, his reply sullen.
The relaxed eyes that had been drifting moments ago were now ice-cold. Any ordinary person meeting that gaze would have felt a chill run down their spine, but Kylus found the frostiness almost comforting.
At least I won’t have to endure eight hours of him recounting the four hours he spent with Miss Diaz.
Kylus let out a silent breath of relief where Edwin couldn’t see.
Still, while the major crisis had been avoided, a minor one remained.
“So, about the crown princess…”
Kylus’s mind raced, searching for a plausible way to frame the topic.
It’s significant if you call it significant, yet trivial if you call it trivial.
In the end he abandoned any attempt at embellishment and decided to report the plain facts.
“She has once again expressed her wish to proceed with a national marriage, just as she mentioned once before.”
A national marriage was the most symbolic way to demonstrate friendly ties between nations.
Yet just as the Emperor was the sole remaining member of the imperial family, the Kingdom of Bellot’s only heir was the crown princess herself. Because of that, the previous discussion had fizzled out for lack of a suitable partner.
Reviving the topic now meant the crown princess had completely shifted her stance in this direction.
It was a positive signal, but not an absolute necessity. Since the idea had already been floated once, its impact was relatively weak.
Having finished, Kylus carefully studied Edwin’s reaction.
Under normal circumstances this would have been the moment for merciless rebuke.
But the still half-distracted Emperor offered no reprimand.
“A national marriage, you say.”
Now fully in work mode, Edwin tapped the desk lightly with his index finger.
“Who are they considering on the kingdom’s side?”
His tone was arrogantly detached, as if he were merely probing the crown princess’s inner thoughts.
“It appears they are weighing either her full younger brother, the third prince, or the crown princess herself.”
Kylus answered while straightening his posture.
“From the empire’s viewpoint, the crown princess would be preferable.”
“After all, the third prince only maintains his position because the crown princess took him in as her full sibling.”
“Although we have decided against devouring Bellot, allowing imperial blood to enter their royal line would not be a bad thing.”
Edwin gave a curt nod, his face still sullen.
“We should look for a suitable noble’s son. Someone quick-witted and skilled at handling affairs.”
Having organized his thoughts, Edwin issued the order.
“I will compile a list and report back shortly.”
Kylus bowed.
With the official business concluded, Edwin’s expression began to thaw again, softening like snow under spring sunlight. It was the unmistakable prelude to another round of Miss Diaz talk.
“Then I shall take my leave.”
Kylus was immensely grateful to have a legitimate excuse to escape the Emperor’s office.
It was the day after visiting the third exhibition hall with Everett.
I’m tired.
I stepped down from the shared carriage on my morning commute and let out a small yawn.
The workload was so heavy that we barely managed a single day off a week, and I had spent every one of those precious days out and about. The accumulated fatigue was finally catching up.
Still, I never feel tired at all when I’m with him.
I secretly smiled, already looking forward to the fourth exhibition.
Next time I really must ask Everett what he wants to do.
I clenched my fist and made a quiet little resolution.
In case Everett arrived without any particular plan, I spent the walk pondering what we could do the week after next. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the office door.
“Good morning!”
I forced a bright, energetic greeting, but strangely no one answered.
What’s going on?
The staff hadn’t even noticed my arrival. They were clustered in groups of three and five, deep in conversation.
The atmosphere feels strangely heavy.
A flicker of unease ran through me.
I quietly slipped inside and joined the circle.
“No, the head of a wyvern is better than the tail of a dragon. Why would the crown princess abandon a guaranteed throne to come to the empire?”
“Who knows why. But I definitely heard it. His Majesty the Emperor and the Crown Princess of Bellot are soon to enter a national marriage.”
“They say the Emperor’s advisors have been running around preparing for it. Maybe it’s real?”
From the snippets I caught, the topic was clearly the Emperor’s marriage.
I thought something serious had happened at work.
I rubbed my chest, which had clenched in dread thinking a major crisis had erupted on Monday morning.
Don’t make such grave faces if you’re only gossiping.
Especially about something so trivial.
This office was usually so bleak that society gossip rarely reached us, but the topic of a national marriage was apparently sensational enough to draw a crowd.
I slowly withdrew, sat at my desk, and thought.
Well, it is about time.
I quietly calculated the Emperor’s age.
He’s twenty-three, isn’t he?
Commoners these days married around twenty-two or twenty-three regardless of gender, but royalty tended to wed much earlier.
They usually don’t pass twenty.
By royal standards, a twenty-three-year-old Emperor had missed the proper season for marriage by a long margin. The endless war was to blame.
Still, the meeting with the female protagonist is approaching.
They were scheduled to encounter each other for the first time at the ball during the next New Year’s festival—barely six months away.
The two protagonists, drawn to each other like fate from the start, would marry within a year of meeting.
No matter who the partner is, it seems a national marriage will take place soon.
Yet it appeared that originally the talks had involved the crown princess.
Was this a hidden detail from the original story?
Ah, wait a moment.
I had been following the train of thought casually when a sudden suspicion jolted me.
Was this event in the original plot?
Since the story was told entirely from the female lead’s first-person perspective, almost nothing about the male lead’s past had been revealed.
I don’t remember anything like this.
I chewed my lip anxiously.
A supporting female character involved in marriage negotiations would at least have been mentioned.
I’d bet my entire career as a romance-fantasy reader that she would appear at least for the sake of adding flavor.
The fact that I had zero recollection of her could only mean one thing.
Surely fate hasn’t changed?
A chill raced down my spine.
Without the saintess—the sunshine female lead—the Emperor would never regain his humanity.
If he marries the Crown Princess of Bellot, it would be a perfect political union. There would be no redemption arc for him.
The thought landed like a heavy stone.
Suddenly the future stretching ahead of me in the imperial palace felt shrouded in dark clouds.
If the saintess doesn’t appear, I’m handing in my resignation immediately.
The tyrant emperor trope was only enjoyable when read in a book.