Britia noticed Nancy’s increasingly tense expression and immediately realized her mistake.
She had said the wrong thing.
From Nancy’s perspective, it must have been a completely out-of-the-blue and awkward question.
“I just thought I saw someone who looked a lot like you, so I asked.”
How many people out there have similar long red tails? Why did I have to say something?
She mentally chastised herself, reminding herself not to get so caught up in others’ tails.
“I’m sorry if I startled you,” Britia apologized, and Nancy’s stiff expression slowly softened.
“I have an older brother, two years older. Do we look that similar?”
“I recognized him right away,” Britia replied, though it was the tail, not the face, that had caught her attention.
Feeling her curiosity satisfied, Britia smiled and let go of the tray.
“Come to think of it, I don’t know your name.”
“…It’s Violetta, my Lady,” Nancy replied, almost blurting out her real name but catching herself just in time.
I must’ve been too relaxed. Even though I picked a face at random, I somehow chose one that resembles me.
Nancy steadied herself and returned Britia’s smile.
I need to stay sharp. I can’t risk being found out before I get the order to kill the Emperor from the Duke.
—
The Emperor’s birthday was passing by in an unusually quiet manner.
There was no grand party. A formal dinner had been arranged, but even that was a small affair with just close family attending.
The Empress had sensed that the Emperor deliberately wanted to keep his birthday low-key this year.
“Are you embarrassed to let others see the sweater I made for you?”
She called out loudly to the Emperor, who had gone behind a screen to change into the garment.
“If that’s the case, I’m a little hurt. I worked hard on it despite your protests,” she added, knowing full well she had chosen an embarrassingly bright pink yarn on purpose.
“It’s not that I’m…”
“You’re so noisy!” the Emperor grumbled as he emerged from behind the screen.
His face was flushed an even deeper red than the pink sweater he wore.
“Isn’t it enough that I’ve worn it, as you wanted?”
He was annoyed at the Empress for making him wear such a childish sweater on his birthday.
I’m not young anymore!
But what could he do? If he didn’t wear it, it would feel as if he were rejecting her affection.
“I thought you’d cover it up with something else.”
She had expected him to hide the sweater under another layer. But here he was, fully exposed.
“It’s hot enough without adding more layers,” he snapped, wiping at his forehead as if he were already sweating.
“You wanted me to show off this ridiculous look, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes…” the Empress admitted, surprised that he had understood her intentions so well. And even more surprised that he had gone along with it.
Normally, he would either pretend not to understand or deliberately ignore her wishes.
“You’ve changed quite a bit, Your Majesty.”
“What did you say?”
“I said, you’re still as prickly as ever, but are you really going to spend the whole day like that?”
“Didn’t you tell me to? Wasn’t this your one and only wish?”
She muttered under her breath that she had never said it was her one and only wish.
Anyway, even though there was no party, the palace was far from empty. Even here, in this room, there were several maids and attendants.
“I can’t help but feel… strange that you’ve kept your promise to me.”
She had heard that when people act out of character, it sometimes means something’s wrong with them. Was he going to die tomorrow or something?
She swallowed her concern but kept glancing at him. Despite her slight worry, there was something endearing about her usually stubborn husband being so compliant for once.
“Why are Sig and the Crown Prince so late?” the Emperor grumbled, growing more irritable now that he had the sweater on. He snapped at an attendant, just as Sig and Britia walked through the doors.
Sig was wearing a black sweater, and sweat was already forming on his forehead from the heat. But no matter how much he was sweating, he couldn’t just take it off.
“You all better wear those sweaters too,” was the Emperor’s order. He didn’t want to be the only one looking ridiculous.
“It’s full of holes, so it must not be too hot,” the Emperor sneered, eyeing Sig’s sweater, which had holes all over it thanks to Britia’s less-than-perfect knitting skills.
“Did you make all those holes on purpose so it’d be cooler?”
Britia’s face flushed with embarrassment.
Of course, she hadn’t done it on purpose. It was simply the best she could do.
Suddenly, the Emperor’s own pink sweater didn’t seem so bad in comparison. Sure, the color was garish, but at least it didn’t look like it had been mauled by a wild animal, unlike Sig’s.
“Where is your brother? Why is he taking so long?” the Emperor asked impatiently, now searching for the Crown Prince.
“He wouldn’t dare disobey my order just because he doesn’t want to wear the sweater, would he?”
Sig hesitated, unsure how to respond, glancing nervously at the Emperor.
“Is he really refusing to wear it?” the Emperor’s sharp voice echoed through the hall.
“I apologize, Your Majesty. I tried to follow your command, but… I couldn’t wear it,” came the somber voice of the Crown Prince as he appeared, holding a pale yellow sweater that was clearly too small for him.
“I… made a mistake. It was my first time knitting,” said Kyra, trying to explain.
The Crown Prince stared at her, knowing immediately that it wasn’t a simple mistake.
If she had made it for him, she wouldn’t have been so flustered when he asked for it. And she certainly wouldn’t have rushed to Britia to try and get it back.
The sweater had never been meant for him. The realization made his stomach turn.
“Well, it happens when it’s your first attempt. Don’t be too upset,” the Empress consoled both Kyra and the Crown Prince. But the Emperor snorted from beside her.
“You didn’t plan to give it to him at all, did you?”
Kyra flinched, knowing she’d been caught. The Emperor, pleased with his observation, smirked.
“Of course, you didn’t!”
He laughed heartily, seeing the Crown Prince’s stern, disappointed face.
‘I’ll choose the right person for the situation. Love would be nice, but it’s not essential,’ the Emperor thought, recalling his son’s haughty attitude in the past.
Seeing his son like this was amusing to him now.
“So, who was the sweater for?” the Emperor asked, his tone teasing.
Kyra opened her mouth, but hesitated.
“I intended to give it to Your Majesty.”
The Crown Prince shot her a cold look, knowing she wasn’t telling the truth. His eyes then flickered briefly to Britia, who stood nervously nearby.
“Ha!”
The Emperor caught the glance and burst into laughter.
“The high-and-mighty Crown Prince, outdone by Britia Lockhart! How humiliating!”
The Crown Prince clenched his jaw, remaining silent, though the sting of his father’s words was harsher than usual. Being mocked by the Emperor was nothing new, but today it hit harder.
He couldn’t help but feel a wave of resentment toward Britia.
Britia, noticing the Crown Prince’s intense gaze, swallowed hard. He wasn’t smiling anymore. The smile that had once seemed plastered to his face was gone, and now he just looked intimidating.
If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve refused the sweater!
But both the Empress and Kyra had said it suited her, so she had given in to the temptation.
Still, she couldn’t help but feel guilty for accepting something meant for the Crown Prince.
But Kyra had said afterward that she never intended to give it to him in the first place. Besides, the Crown Prince probably didn’t want it anyway.
‘The only person who’d be happy to get a sweater in the middle of summer is Duke Turas. And that’s only because it’s from you.’
When she was told that if she didn’t take the sweater, it would just end up discarded somewhere, Britia finally accepted it.
But she hadn’t expected things to turn out like this because of the Emperor’s orders.
Britia glanced at the Crown Prince apologetically, trying to express her regret for being so clueless about the situation.
Whether he got the message or not, his expression remained hard.
His gaze was sharp with jealousy, and it stung.
Feeling the tension, Britia subtly hid behind Sig’s large frame. Unfortunately, that only seemed to intensify the Crown Prince’s jealous glare.
“Your Majesty… no, Father.”
The Emperor, who had been mocking the Crown Prince, abruptly stopped laughing. Did he hear that right? His son had never called him Father before. But here he was, using the word now.
“I never understood you before, Father. But now… I think I finally do.”
There was a sadness in the Crown Prince’s voice, and the Emperor felt an unexpected surge of emotion.
The son who had always sided with his mother, treating his father like some difficult eccentric, was now saying he understood him. The Emperor felt his heart swell.
“Brother,” Sig called softly, sensing how upset the Crown Prince was but feeling helpless to do anything about it. There was no way to make the too-small sweater fit.
“I understand now why Father is so harsh with you. If I were in his shoes, I would’ve done the same….”
The Crown Prince’s expression hardened, but the corners of his lips lifted slightly into a faint smile. He hadn’t realized that such ugly feelings were buried deep within him, but here they were, rising to the surface.
“No, I would’ve made sure the two of you could never meet.”
“Brother!”
The Crown Prince had believed that Kyra liked him, even if her feelings weren’t as strong as his own. But now that belief was wavering.
She wouldn’t even show him her paintings. She seemed uncomfortable when he got too close. She was always so guarded, and even when they spent time together, she never looked happy.
He was tired of reassuring himself that she was just shy and awkward. He had hoped that once they were engaged, everything would fall into place, but it was a mistake. In reality, he meant nothing to her.
It seemed like he was the only one who desperately wanted this.
The Crown Prince gave a bitter smile.
Still, taking out his frustration on Sig just because his love wasn’t going well wasn’t right.
“I’m sorry, Sig. You’ve always admired me, but the truth is, I’m nothing but a disappointment of a brother.”
He knew it in his head, but his heart kept growing bitter. Now he understood why the Emperor would snap at him, telling him not to flaunt his happiness.
“So now you understand what I’ve gone through. Took you long enough,” the Emperor said with a smirk, though his gaze was softer than ever.
The Emperor had always felt both fond and irritated by his son’s carefree, cheerful demeanor. The Empress wanted him to retire and go north with her, which meant handing the throne over to their son. But the Emperor hadn’t liked that idea.
His son would probably make everything seem easy once he was on the throne, winning people over effortlessly. How infuriating!
But now, there were signs that things wouldn’t be so easy for him. The Crown Prince, who always smiled, couldn’t even manage that anymore. He was struggling with his emotions.
‘Ah, he really is my son,’ the Emperor thought.
‘Yes, you shouldn’t succeed too easily after all the hardship I went through. You need to suffer more!’
“Things are only going to get tougher from here. Be prepared,” the Emperor said with a wide grin, looking at his son with a mixture of love and frustration.
Oddly enough, it was at that moment that he finally made up his mind to pass the throne to him.
