Episode 96

Aiden, startled, insisted he would pay for the purchases himself, but he couldn’t win against me.

Back in the carriage on our way back to the palace, Aiden, now wearing the emerald brooch on his lapel, grumbled with a sulky expression, “I’ll refuse my salary from now on.”

“There’s no need for that. I feel like you’ve opened my eyes to a whole new world.”

Aiden seemed uneasy that I had spent so much money on him, but every time I looked at the brooch—its color perfectly contrasting his striking eyes—I felt immense satisfaction.

Now I understood why male protagonists in novels were so fond of giving jewels as gifts.

Sure, four formal suits from a high-end boutique and an emerald brooch were expensive.

But I was the Empress of the great Belpator Empire.

Former Chancellor Lian had ensured my private funds were generously allocated, allowing for such indulgences.

While extravagance should be avoided, buying a few outfits for the captain of the royal guard who protected me day and night was more than justified.

Moreover, Aiden’s faint smile, one of contentment as he admired the jewel matching my eye color on his lapel, was worth every coin.

When we arrived back at the palace, the sun was setting, and it was time for dinner.

Lothania was waiting for me in the Empress’s quarters and fluttered over as I entered.

She had a book in her hands, as though she had been reading.

“Mother! Let’s have dinner together!”

Glancing at the title of the book she was holding, I asked casually, “Shall we? Lottie, were you reading?”

“Ah, this…”

Lothania trailed off, casting a wistful glance at the book in her hands.

The title of the book, which had cast such a shadow over my dear daughter’s face, was The Debate on the Partition of the Runga Region between Anais and Trida.

Even the title sounded incomprehensible, and the book itself was thick.

It was the kind of book that begged not to be read, and Lothania muttered quietly while glaring at it.

“If only Mel hadn’t been reading it…”

Apparently, during one of her library dates with Melbrid, where they had swapped hide-and-seek for reading, Lothania had seen him engrossed in that impossibly dense book.

Not wanting to be outdone, she must have grabbed the same book to read, but it was evident that the title alone was an uphill battle.

My poor daughter, struggling with her challenge, pouted and asked gloomily, “Why does Mel only read such difficult books? There are plenty of fun books in the library… Does he not want to spend time with me?”

I couldn’t possibly fathom the mind of a twelve-year-old boy reading The Debate on the Partition of the Runga Region between Anais and Trida, but I was certain it wasn’t because he disliked being with Lothania.

Bending down to meet her at eye level, I gave her a gentle smile and spoke softly.

“Maybe Mel wants to spend time with you, so he’s trying really hard,” I suggested gently.

“To spend time with me?”

“Lottie, you’re going to be emperor someday. Maybe Mel is studying so he can be helpful to you when that time comes.”

The head of the Zernia family had always held key positions managing Belpator’s internal affairs. Not because they were the Empire’s snake, but because they were capable.

Although the Zernia family no longer existed and Melbrid was now a palace servant, that might be why he was trying even harder.

He likely thought he needed to make such an effort to spend time with the emperor in training, even as a humble servant in the royal archives.

Understanding the reason behind Melbrid’s unusual choice of reading material, Lothania pouted.

“Mel is such a fool. He doesn’t need to do all that.”

Despite her words, she seemed cheered up.

Lothania tucked the thick book under her arm, took my hand, and began leading me toward the dining hall.

As I walked with my daughter, a thought struck me—something I could do for these children who shared a bond far more precious than emerald brooches.

I mentally organized an agenda to propose at the next council meeting, but my thoughts were interrupted when Lothania suddenly asked Aiden,

“By the way, Duke Tilender, is it true you’ve moved in here?”

Aiden, who had been pulling out my chair, froze for a brief moment. So did I as I lowered myself into my seat.

A few days ago, Aiden had officially moved into the first floor of the Empress’s quarters.

He now had his own room in the Empress’s wing, under the pretext of being a guard’s resting quarters. But everyone knew it was essentially his room.

Since he never left the palace, there wasn’t much choice but to give him a space. Having a room with its own bath had made things easier for both of us.

Sitting beside me as if it were the most natural thing, Aiden spoke calmly, pretending not to be fazed.

“It’s not moving in.”

“It’s not? Oh, because you’re not married yet?”

“Mar-married…?”

Aiden stammered, his face frozen in disbelief, then turned to me for help with a silent plea in his eyes.

I wasn’t in great shape myself, but I was better at keeping my composure than Aiden.

“That’s not it, Lottie,” I said, attempting to smooth things over. “Aiden is staying here temporarily to ensure my safety.”

“So, you’re not going to marry Duke Tilender?”

This must be what it feels like to get caught cheating, though I’d never strayed nor intended to.

Lothania’s curiosity was genuine, but I was breaking out in a cold sweat.

Buying him a brooch didn’t mean I was going to marry him. That was the line stuck in my throat when I suddenly remembered I still hadn’t answered Aiden’s proposal from last summer.

When neither of us responded, Lothania tilted her head and asked again, “But you like Duke Tilender, don’t you?”

“Like… I mean, wh-who told you that, Lottie?”

Flustered and unable to hide it, I asked in a panic. Lothania tilted her head again, looking perplexed.

“No one said anything, but doesn’t everyone know?”

“How?”

“Well… you can just tell by looking,” she said hesitantly, her expression saying, How could you not know it yourself?

I was about to protest how unfair it was for her to know before I had even confessed, but then a vision of my own behavior flashed through my mind.

The overly zealous guard who never left the Empress’s side and the Empress constantly holding said guard’s hand at every opportunity.

But his hands are warm, and it’s calming to hold them…

I swallowed down this excuse that I wasn’t sure who I was making it to.

Lothania pressed on, “Then why don’t you get married? Duke Tilender is completely smitten with you, Mother.”

I glanced at Aiden. His soul seemed entirely absent from his body.

I tore my gaze away from Aiden’s trembling crimson eyes and steadied myself before addressing Lothania.

“Lottie, marriage isn’t something I can decide on feelings alone. A remarriage for an Empress is unprecedented, you know.”

“But when you announced your engagement to the snake, everything was reviewed and confirmed to be fine, Mother. Tito consulted legal experts multiple times.”

That engagement to Lian had only been a trap to capture him—I’d never intended for it to be real.

Since I hadn’t bothered to address the other aspects, it seemed that Tito, ever the efficient chamberlain, had taken it upon himself to investigate thoroughly.

I had thought everyone was opposed to the idea of my marriage to Lian, but apparently, they had gone so far as to prepare for it.

“If you signed a declaration of abdication, your husband’s position as the Empress’s consort would still be guaranteed. They even concluded that the dukedom could be retained,” Lothania added.

It was dawning on me, far too late, that everyone else had taken my potential marriage more seriously than I had—and that my stepdaughter was the most earnest about it.

When neither Aiden nor I responded, Lothania tightened her grip on her fork and spoke firmly.

“It’s ridiculous to say you can’t marry someone you love because of status! I won’t forgive anyone who gets in the way of Mother’s happiness!”

I wasn’t sure if Lothania’s anger stemmed from the difference in status between me and Aiden or between an Emperor and a palace servant. Regardless, the future Emperor was genuinely upset.

Finally, Lothania slammed her fork onto the table with a loud clink, turned to Aiden, and demanded,

“Duke Tilender, speak up. Do you not want to marry my mother?”

Her frustration seemed to echo the indignation she’d felt during their game of hide-and-seek in the royal archives.

How had a conversation that started with Anais and Trida’s debates spiraled into marriage?

I thought to intervene and calm Lothania down, but Aiden’s expression turned solemn, mirroring hers.

He didn’t look at Lothania but instead fixed his gaze on me as he spoke.

“I do… If it’s possible, if Your Majesty allows it, I wish to stay by your side.”

I knew I should say something—ask why he was doing this—but as I met his unwavering eyes, I found myself speechless.