The Northern Mad Dog Is Wagging Its Tail

  Britia, who had been willing to do whatever he asked, was dumbfounded, her mouth agape.

 

  “The Empress will surely suspect that it was me. Without any evidence, she already believes I am the culprit and is behaving recklessly.”

 

  “Your Majesty, if it’s evidence you want, it’s right here…”

 

  “Be quiet.”

 

  At the Emperor’s command, Britia tightly sealed her lips.

 

  If it’s evidence you want, it’s right here for everyone to see. It’s clear to anyone that Your Majesty is the culprit. Why on earth would you do such a thing? I thought you didn’t want a divorce, but in reality, you wanted to be divorced?

 

  She conveyed even the words she couldn’t say out loud through her gaze. When the Emperor glared at her as if he would kill her, she lowered her head, but continued speaking.

 

  “Wouldn’t it be better to confess the truth to the Empress, Your Majesty? Admit that I was wrong.”

 

  Britia cautiously spoke up, and the Emperor snorted.

 

  “I don’t want to hear another word. Did you think the Empress, who shouted at me to disappear right in front of her, would listen to you?”

 

  The Emperor gritted his teeth. When he recalled last night, the Empress’s voice still echoed in his ears, causing his head to ache as if it were being stabbed.

 

  Disappear right in front of her. How dare she say there’s nothing I can do. Britia became even more agitated.

 

  If my crime is so grave, please abdicate. If you don’t want to abdicate, then just kill me right here.

 

  Shouting with bloodshot eyes, the Emperor was left speechless and hurriedly left the Empress’s chambers.

 

 “Why did you steal…?”

 

  Britia mumbled, staring at him with resentful eyes, and the Emperor opened his eyes wide.

 

  “Enough. Don’t blame me. I’ve heard enough of that from the Empress yesterday.”

 

  The Emperor’s small tail, always swayed vigorously, remained drooping. He seemed to be aware that he had made a mistake.

 

  “Your Majesty, even if the Empress is convinced that you are the one who did it, she won’t believe me if I confess.”

 

  “…You won’t know until you try.”

 

  “Instead of hoping for that, it would be better to apologize properly…”

 

  Britia trailed off. The Emperor clenched his fist and glared at her.

 

  “I tried to, but in front of her, I couldn’t even speak. What do you expect me to do?”

 

  “If you can’t speak, how about writing a letter?”

 

  Britia suggested, saying it might be a little easier.

 

  “Do you think I would write such worthless scraps of paper?”

 

  “It can be quite effective. I have received them myself when I was angry, and they provided great comfort.”

 

  At the mention of personal experience, the Emperor seemed intrigued and fell silent, lost in thought.

 

  “But it must be a sincere letter.”

 

  “You speak as if I would naturally write a false letter.”

 

  The emperor snapped, asking why she was emphasizing that.

 

  But wouldn’t his letter be full of shameless excuses and resentment instead of an apology?

 

  Britia held back her words, unable to speak the truth.

 

  “Why should I write a letter anyway?”

 

  “But Your Majesty knows you did wrong, don’t you?”

 

  The emperor could not answer and just kept licking his lips anxiously.

 

  Britia had asked him why he stole the sweater, and the emperor wanted to ask himself the same question. Why did he do such a regrettable thing?

 

  But it was already done. He tried to salvage the situation somehow. He called in the magicians and asked them to turn back time a little bit so that he could go back to before he stole the sweater, but they said it was impossible. Then he asked them to erase the existence of the sweater from the empress’s memory, but they said they couldn’t choose what to erase.

 

  If they couldn’t do this or that, what on earth could those good-for-nothings do?

 

  After complaining to himself for a while, the emperor’s mind filled with the image of his wife’s face as she shed tears.

 

 ‘Even though my heart is already in tatters, you are making me a fool for trying to believe in Your Majesty again.’

 

  The words she spoke to his back as he ran away kept ringing in his ears. He shouted angrily, but spoke those words in a tired voice.

 

  “Bring me some paper.”

 

  Finally, the emperor made up his mind and gave the order. But even after holding the pen and staring at the blank paper for a long time, he couldn’t think of what to write.

 

  After 30 minutes, the emperor was still frozen, staring at the paper. Britia carefully approached him and sneaked a peek at the letter. He was having so much trouble writing the letter that he hadn’t even written the opening greeting, which was to whom it was addressed.

 

  “Your Majesty, how about writing ‘To my beloved wife’?”

 

  Britia, who couldn’t bear to see it, cautiously advised.

  

  “It will work.”

 

  “…If this doesn’t work out, you can never marry Sig. I’ll make sure of that.”

 

  “That!”

 

  How can that be!

 

  The emperor glanced at Britia’s gaping mouth and finally wrote the beginning of the letter.

 

  [To my beloved wife.]

 

  Just starting with this made him feel like he had already crossed two big walls. The first wall was deciding to write the letter. Now he felt like he could write the letter smoothly and finish it quickly.

 

  But it was only wishful thinking. The emperor wrote and crumpled the letter, wrote and crumpled it again and again. Britia picked up the crumpled letters on the floor and put them in a wooden bin, which soon filled up.

 

  The emperor frowned all day long, whether he was eating or drinking tea, as if he was thinking about what to write in the letter. Before he knew it, the sun had set and night had fallen. Britia wanted to go home.

 

  “It’s getting late. Give Britia Lockhart a room.”

 

  Britia had come to ask for permission to marry, but ended up spending an unexpected night in the palace.

 

  Sig, I miss you.

 

  LLying in the unnecessarily luxurious bed, Britia burst into tears. She was exhausted from dealing with the emperor’s nervousness all day long, and she longed for comfort in Sig’s arms.

 

 The next morning, the same routine as yesterday continued. As the emperor wrote and crumpled the letter, Britia picked it up and put it in the bin. When the bin was full, she took it to the incinerator and burned the letters according to his orders.

 

  “Tell me what you think I should write here.”

 

 The emperor finally seemed to realize that he couldn’t do it alone and handed over the letter he was writing.

 

  […I apologize. But that sweater will be mine soon anyway, right? Why are you making such a fuss about me taking one sweater that I made ahead of time… ]

 

  Britia stopped reading the letter.

 

  This is just a letter blaming the empress.

 

  “What’s wrong with it?”

 

  “Hmm, it seems to lack love…”

 

  The emperor snapped, telling her to stop talking nonsense and be specific.

 

  “This letter makes it sound like you hate the empress.”

 

  “What? Didn’t I write that I’m sorry?”

 

  “I think it would be better if you wrote about being sorry and loving her. Is there nothing you usually feel about loving the empress or anything you are grateful for?”

 

  Britia suggested that he write about something that held the memories of the two of them, and crumpled the letter she was holding and put it in the bin. The emperor was shocked when the letter he had written with some confidence was treated as garbage.

 

  The emperor, who had been grumpy all the time, became a little discouraged and started writing the letter again. He still kept writing, crumpling, and throwing it away, but the content was slightly better than before.

 

  […Britia Lockhart, she says I lack love. It’s been years since I fell in love with you at first sight and have been lonely and longing for love, and you are so presumptuous…]

 

  It still sounded like he was complaining, shifting the blame from the empress to Britia.

 

  But the emperor kept writing. After a few hours, a servant came into the quiet office and informed the emperor that he had a visitor.

 

  “I can’t see anyone now. Tell them to go back.”

 

  It seemed that someone else wanted to see him. But the emperor had refused all requests for an audience since he started writing the letter.

 

  The emperor’s voice filled the office as he wrote the letter, scribbling and muttering. Soon after, the servant who had left returned and whispered to the emperor.

 

  “Britia Lockhart, the empress is looking for you.”

 

  Britia was happy to have a brief moment of freedom and quickly rose from her seat.

 

  Wait, why is Her Majesty the Empress looking for me?

 

  The fact that she was looking for her here meant that she knew she was with the emperor.

 

  So is she going to ask me what I’m doing with the emperor?

 

  Britia’s thoughts turned to that, and she quickly glanced at the emperor and picked up one of the letters in the bin and hid it in her pocket.

  

  “Britia Lockhart!”

 

  Britia was startled by the emperor’s sharp voice.

 

  “Huh?”

 

  Too surprised to realize that she had been caught, she made a strange sound and turned to the emperor.

 

  “Don’t take a detour and come back right away.”

 

  Britia breathed a sigh of relief and answered that she understood. She followed the maid’s instructions and hurried to the empress’s bedroom.

 

  When she arrived at the bedroom, the empress was waiting alone on the couch. Britia couldn’t help but feel sorry for her when she saw her.

 

  When she had met her a few days ago, she had seemed so happy, saying that she wanted to make something for her grandson soon. But now she was hopelessly depressed. She seemed like a different person from then.

 

  “I heard that you were captured by His Majesty and are being subjected to strange torture. You must be suffering a lot.”

 

  The empress’s voice was very tired.

 

  “So what on earth is His Majesty making you do so busy? Are you writing divorce papers?”

 

  The empress asked with a desolate face. Britia opened her eyes wide and waved her hands.

 

  “Divorce papers? No, Your Majesty. His Majesty the Emperor is writing an apology letter right now!”

 

  The empress’s eyes, which had widened in surprise for a moment, darkened again.

 

  “…You’re the same as His Majesty. I’m hurt even by the affectionate lies you’re trying to comfort me with now. So just tell me the truth.”

 

  The empress didn’t believe it at all. Britia quickly took out the letter she had hidden in her pocket and handed it to the empress.

 

  “This is one of the things His Majesty the Emperor wrote and threw away.”

 

  The empress hesitantly took the crumpled letter and carefully unfolded it.

 

[To my beloved wife,

 

  I’m sorry I took the sweater you were knitting. But don’t you think pink would suit me? It’s too plain. You must have chosen that color on purpose.

 

  Don’t admit it. No matter how old you get, the fact that you still throw such petty tantrums is part of your charm. I love you even for this, but you don’t understand me.

 

  You’re like a woman who’s always suspicious! You’re always like that! You always shine those sharp eyes of yours, trying to find fault with me, and when I think about it, I miss you again. But what on earth am I writing now…]

 

  The letter ended there. The empress finished reading it and slowly raised her head to look at Britia.

 

  “Are you saying he keeps writing things like this?”

 

  The content was unbelievable as something written by that man. But the thin, sharp handwriting that revealed his nervous personality was definitely the emperor’s.

 

  “I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve taken these to the incinerator.”

 

  Britia spread her arms as wide as her torso to show how big the bin was.

 

  “Britia.”

 

  The empress looked down at the letter again and called Britia softly. The corners of the empress’s mouth, which had been looking depressed, turned up slightly.

 

  “Don’t throw those letters away. Bring them to me.”