Episode 14
“Absolutely not! Absolutely not! How dare he say such nonsense to Her Majesty? How dare he propose such an idea to the Empress of this country…!”
“Lukenell, calm down. Lower your voice, please. As you know, this matter is confidential and may remain so for my life. Don’t go around shouting recklessly.”
“But Your Majesty, this is absurd! It’s an insult that cannot be tolerated. How could a ruler from such a tribal state propose marriage to the Empress of Lekeon?”
“It’s not entirely impossible. Whatever else you might think, Kirta isn’t a fool, Lukenell. If he believed it to be truly unfeasible, he wouldn’t have brought it up.”
The more furious and indignant Lukenell became, the calmer Lentia grew. She responded with quiet reasoning, though each word only served to make Kirta’s proposal seem increasingly plausible in her own mind—a realization that left her feeling unsettled.
“What do you think, Father? Mother?” Lentia turned to the Duke and Duchess.
“Do you believe it’s possible for me to remarry this man and establish him as the new emperor? And if it is possible, would it benefit the country and our family?”
As always, the cool-headed empress focused on practicality.
Is it possible or not? Is it beneficial or harmful?
She deliberately excluded her personal feelings from the equation, ignoring the memories of Kirta’s boyish laugh, his mature smile, or even the inappropriate dream she’d had two nights ago.
“…Your Majesty is correct. It is not impossible,” the Duke replied after a pause.
“However, if you remarry him, he likely won’t be given the title of Emperor. Instead, he will become the Archduke, and you will remain the reigning Empress.”
“Father!”
“There is a precedent like that,” the Duke continued evenly. “In the past, there were queens who remarried non-royal nobles and carried on their dynasties. Your Majesty officially received the Lekeon surname upon marrying His Majesty the Emperor, so in principle, there would be no issue in continuing the imperial lineage through you.”
“Father, please stop entertaining such nonsense!” Lukenell turned to his mother.
“Mother, say something!”
The Duchess, however, merely sighed. She had clearly resigned herself to the conversation and offered no support to her son’s objections.
“No matter what Your Majesty chooses,” the Duchess said softly,
“I will support you. Please make your decision with your safety as your highest priority. There is no need for you to sacrifice anything unnecessarily.”
“Mother, how can you say that? If we’re prioritizing Her Majesty’s safety, then clearly she shouldn’t remarry that man! Why are you being so vague…!”
“Think about it, Lukenell,” Lentia interrupted, her voice firm.
“If I remarry as Father suggested, I will remain the Empress. Kirta would become the Archduke, and any child born from the union would inherit my surname as an exception.”
“But to marry that savage…!”
“They are not savages, Lukenell.” Lentia’s tone sharpened.
“You’ve seen them yourself. You know that kind of prejudice stems from ignorance and malice among our own people.”
Lukenell flushed, chastened by his sister’s noble demeanor.
“I apologize, Your Majesty. You are right—I was excessive. But I cannot bear the thought of you with… a man like that.”
Lukenell’s gaze softened as he looked at Lentia. His sister’s face, burdened with a hint of sorrow, filled him with pity.
Though he was slowly coming to terms with the imperial people’s prejudices against the northeastern nomads, the thought of one of them pursuing his beloved sister made his blood boil.
He loved and admired Lentia deeply—not only as family but also as his empress. She had been mature and intelligent since childhood, enduring hardships with unyielding strength.
Lukenell had always despised the emperor for his treatment of Lentia. Though he never dared voice his disdain publicly, he loathed the man who had neglected his sister, abandoned his duties, and failed even the basic expectations of an emperor.
But now, a foreigner—a man whose life and motives were unknown—dared to pursue her!
What could this man possibly know about my sister? What could he want from her after meeting her only a few times? Is he some kind of womanizer? Or a fool taken in by her beauty?
Of course, his sister was a rare beauty. But that wasn’t the point.
Lukenell regarded any stranger who approached Lentia with suspicion, doubly so if their intentions were unclear.
“He is not just any man, Lukenell,” Lentia said gently, attempting to soothe her brother.
“He has proven himself as a capable leader. He commands an army with great skill.”
Despite her measured tone, Lentia felt a pang of guilt. She could not ignore the fact that Kirta’s army had killed countless imperial citizens.
Of course, the Empire struck first, killing their delegation and provoking their retaliation…
Still, the knowledge of those deaths would haunt her forever, even if she accepted his proposal and became his wife.
His wife.
The thought startled her. The idea of tying herself to Kirta in marriage felt strange and surreal.
“But, Your Majesty,” Duke hesitated, “didn’t you say that he was a king? Would it be proper for a king to marry you and live here in Lekeon?”
“What?” Lukenell suddenly bristled. “Did that man also suggest you to leave the Empire and go with him?!”
“Lukenell, mind your words. It’s he, not that man. And no, he didn’t suggest me to go with him. If I remarry, he will live here in Lekeon.”
Judging from Kirta’s culture, one thing was clear: in their matriarchal society, everything revolved around the wife. A man proposing marriage would never expect his wife to abandon her home.
“Don’t worry, Father. I’ve already asked about that. While Kirta is referred to as ‘king,’ the role is not what we think of as a monarch. Their chieftain holds the true power; Kirta’s position is more akin to a military commander.”
“Ah, the king is the commander…” the Duke mused.
“It’s a unique system, certainly. Their culture differs greatly from ours.”
Not wrong—just different.
Lentia reminded herself of this truth. While their customs might include practices that seemed primitive, she thought the same could be said of Lekeon under scrutiny.
As long as the northeastern nomads don’t engage in something truly barbaric, like cannibalism or human sacrifice, they are no worse than we are.
This realization filled her with an unexpected warmth. Beneath
their differences, she and Kirta were equals—both simply human.
“Anyway,” Lentia said, breaking the silence.
“Thank you for your opinions. Lukenell, you are firmly opposed. Father believes there’s little to lose in accepting the proposal. And Mother prioritizes my safety.”
“Sister, please…”
“Lukenell, don’t worry about me.” Lentia smiled warmly, a rare softness gracing her features. “I’ll do my best, as I always have.”
That smile—the warm, gentle smile of the usually icy empress—made Lukenell’s chest ache.
That’s what worries me, he thought. You always do your best, no matter what. You never stop pushing yourself.
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