Episode 12
Lentia spoke with a softer look in her eyes and a gentler tone of voice. However, her stance remained fundamentally firm.
“It is difficult to accept your proposal, Kirta.”
She met his hazel eyes directly and spoke with clarity. It was both an innocent declaration and an unmistakable rejection.
“I’ll share this with you, trusting the story won’t spread. The upper class of Lekeon is an exclusive group. As someone from the highest class, I can say this with certainty: if I were to inherit the throne through remarriage, I would have to marry a noble of Lekeon. The people wouldn’t accept you. I fear that, in the end, we would only hurt each other.”
“Would it still be a problem if I were to receive a title of nobility from this country?”
“The nobility of Lekeon I refer to are not just nobles by title, but by bloodline. Besides, are you saying you wish to renounce your kingship and receive an imperial title here? You’re a king in your own homeland, aren’t you?”
Lentia’s voice betrayed her amazement.
In her understanding, the idea of a king abandoning his throne to seek a title in another land was beyond reason.
“Oh, I haven’t explained that part yet,” Kirta replied with a broad smile. “In my homeland, the king’s position is quite different from what is common in the empire. It’s a role that can be relinquished at any time. Even if I were to step down and receive a title here, no one would criticize me—as long as I properly pass the position to my successor.”
When he mentioned a successor, Lentia briefly wondered if he had a child, but she soon realized her assumption was confined by the norms of the empire.
“In my homeland,” Kirta continued, “the king is the leader of the warriors—similar to the supreme commander in the empire. The one who governs the people is the chieftain, and the chieftain is always a woman. Currently, the chieftain is alive and well, diligently training her disciples to succeed her. If I were to leave, it wouldn’t cause a significant disruption.”
“But… still… it’s a marriage. A serious matter of choosing a lifelong partner. Why would you waste your one and only chance? I’m a stranger to you, and we’ve only met twice.”
“Well, Your Majesty, I don’t think it’s a waste.”
Kirta spoke with cheerful certainty, his hazel eyes warm yet fiery, drawing Lentia in against her will.
“As you said, marriage is a serious matter. That is why I am making this request. If I could have someone like you as my lifelong partner, what wouldn’t I do?”
“No, that’s not what I meant—”
“Would you be surprised if I told you I fell in love with you at first sight?”
“…What?”
“Or perhaps you’d rather treat me as if I’m mad?”
“…Don’t tease me,” Lentia said, her composure cracking.
“No, I’m not joking. I’m very serious.”
For someone claiming seriousness, he wore the most shameless expression.
Lentia, forgetting her dignity as empress, glared at him fiercely. It was unthinkable behavior for someone of her rank.
‘What kind of man is he?!’
Lentia had faced scheming politicians, jealous detractors, and even violent and hostile men, yet none had shaken her as thoroughly as this absurd foreigner.
Unlike the men of Lekeon who were often brash or crude, Kirta was neither vulgar nor violent—yet infinitely more challenging to deal with.
The etiquette and common sense of Lekeon, tools she had wielded her entire life, seemed to bounce harmlessly off him. She couldn’t tell if his unorthodox behavior was due to cultural differences or if it was just Kirta being Kirta.
Despite herself, Lentia glared at him openly. Her annoyance, vivid and unmasked, must have been apparent.
Kirta noticed and, much to her chagrin, seemed delighted by it.
“Your Majesty,” he said earnestly, “if you accept me as your second husband, I promise to devote myself to you until the end of my life. I swear this on the honor of my people. A man from the grasslands never betrays his wife.”
At least that much seemed plausible in a culture where women often took multiple husbands.
Still, Lentia glared at him, her suspicion unabated.
“And I have no political base in the Empire,” Kirta continued. “I have no support to clash with you or interfere in your rule. You wouldn’t need to worry about meddling from your in-laws or family.”
The logic was sound. History was full of instances where rulers had chosen spouses with no political backing to avoid the rise of a rival faction.
Kirta pressed on, his tone as persuasive as ever.
“Furthermore, wouldn’t it be beneficial to use me as leverage? Even if we sign a peace treaty, there will always be skeptics. Those who watch us with suspicion, fearing when we might break the treaty and invade again. To them, we are little more than barbarians incapable of anything but killing and plundering.”
His tone turned wry at the last sentence, and Lentia flushed, realizing the imperial disdain for his people had not escaped his notice.
Kirta’s expression softened as he continued.
“By marrying me, Your Majesty, you gain not only a husband but a symbol of trust and cooperation between our peoples. It would
reassure those who doubt the treaty. My people, too, will benefit from this bond, and I will have the honor of being the husband of a wise and noble empress like you. You, in turn, would retain your position and avoid ceding power to a collateral branch of the royal family.”
Oh, how persuasive were his words, how tempting was his offer.
Kirta had seen through Lentia’s deepest desires. She did not want to relinquish her position, authority, or responsibilities as empress.
It was difficult to admit, but Lentia wanted to remain where she was. She had always lived for the empire and also the royal family, suppressing her own needs—but even she was human.
“…I need time to think,” Lentia finally said, her voice quieter than before.
“I will give you all the time you need,” Kirta replied with a polite bow. “When you have decided, please let me know. Whether you accept or reject me, I will gladly respect your choice.”
His sincerity irritated Lentia more than it comforted her. How was it that this foreigner, who knew nothing of the empire’s etiquette, carried himself with more grace than the very emperor she had once served?
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