Chapter 11: The Empress’s Jealousy

Emilia Schubert.

She was a woman with mysterious light brown hair and sky-blue eyes.

Her skin tone was a rare pale brown, and there were rumors that her mother, Liota, wife of the Marquis of Fabian, was from beyond the sea, from Lariasia.

Now twenty-three.

She was young—far too young.

At nineteen, she had married the Emperor, conceived Elliot in that very year, and brought tremendous power to the Marquis of Fabian.

She particularly disliked Rohan.

Originally, she was the First Empress and Elliot was the Second Prince, but after Rohan and Empress Amanda entered the Imperial Palace, her status was pushed down.

It was inevitable, as the law of Schubert’s Imperial Palace reordered the ranks of princes by their birth year.

“I greet Her Majesty, Empress Emilia.”

At Lucretia’s greeting, Emilia merely flicked her hand while seated.

“So, you’re Lucretia Finch, the one who’s been making waves among the nobles these days?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I heard you made clothes for the Second Prince recently?”

Emilia rose from her seat and circled around Lucretia, who bowed politely.

“At the last breakfast meeting, everyone was in an uproar over how dazzling Rohan’s clothes were. That’s why I called you—I was curious about your skills. Just how well do you make clothes?”

“My skills are nothing to boast of.”

“Oh my, look at this one.”

Emilia grasped Lucretia’s chin and lifted it.

“Despite what you say, your eyes don’t look the least bit ashamed, do they?”

“……”

Under the mounting pressure, Lucretia subtly turned her chin and spoke.

“How could that be? I suppose I’m just so nervous to meet Your Majesty in person that I lost control of myself.”

“Hahaha, is that so? Well! I am not someone just anyone can meet, after all. It’s understandable.”

Emilia laughed, clutching her belly.

Her stomach was noticeably round.

Currently, Emilia was carrying Elliot’s sibling.

To have conceived another imperial heir.

This fact once again gave Emilia tremendous power.

As Emilia laughed heartily, Lucretia’s eyes grew cold.

‘His Highness was right.’

The day she agreed to join hands with Rohan.

Rohan had promised he would let her meet Emilia.

Having worked tirelessly to make contact with the Marquis of Fabian’s family, her sworn enemies, she had no choice but to be tempted.

Lucretia had persistently sent foundation proposals to Emilia, trying to approach her, but was rejected every time.

When Lucretia asked Rohan what she should do to get close to Emilia, Rohan had answered like this.

―My very existence is a repulsive obstacle to her. The moment someone she thought less than a worm begins to shine, it’ll be returned as an unbearable jealousy.

For an imperial prince to call himself a repulsive obstacle, even less than a worm.

Lucretia had been very surprised at his words.

―So, Lucretia. Do your utmost to make clothes that shine wherever you go.

―Really… Will that be enough?

―Trust me. If you do that, Emilia will definitely call for you.

Rohan’s words, spoken with a smile, came back to her.

His command to trust him felt like a vow to himself.

As he said, she had shortened her sleep and poured herself into making the prince’s clothes, and sure enough, she had been contacted by Emilia.

“Your Majesty, what style of dress would you like? If you look at the fabrics and choose a design—”

“You’re not here to make my clothes.”

“Pardon?”

Lucretia’s eyes narrowed.

Clap, clap!

When Emilia clapped her hands twice, Eliot entered the room with a maid.

“You’ll be making clothes for our prince, who will one day be the Crown Prince. With one condition.”

Emilia tapped Lucretia’s cheek with her long fingernails.

“They must be better than the ones you made for Prince Rohan. If you can’t manage it… well, think of the consequences yourself. You understand, don’t you?”

Smile.

As Emilia’s cruel smile deepened, a shadow flickered in Lucretia’s ashen eyes.

---

Meanwhile, at Boronia Palace.

“Lucretia has entered Elysia Palace.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

At Martin’s answer, Rohan stroked his chin and smiled faintly.

“She took the bait faster than expected.”

It had only been four days since the breakfast meeting.

“I… I didn’t think Empress Emilia would be this wary of Your Highness,” Martin said.

Rohan chuckled. “Wary? Not quite yet. She probably just hates hearing rumors about me in the palace. She’s the type who insists Elliot must surpass me in everything and be the center of attention.”

“I see.”

Martin looked troubled.

“Don’t make such a face. Not yet, but… someday, she’ll be so alert that even a single footprint of mine will put her on edge.”

“That’s exactly what worries me.”

“Because it’s dangerous?”

“……”

Even though he was a knight, Martin understood the rough balance of power in the palace.

And just how frightening a figure the Marquis of Fabian, Emilia’s father, truly was.

At the moment, he was away on a diplomatic trip, but if these incidents piled up, word would reach his ears in no time.

“Are you worried?”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.”

“I’m not. Because you’ll protect me, Martin.”

“…!”

At Rohan’s words, spoken without a moment’s hesitation, Martin’s eyes widened.

“Why so surprised? Isn’t it only natural for a knight to protect his lord?”

“Well…”

He couldn’t refute that.

“Let’s head to the records archive. There’s something I want to check.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Martin watched as Rohan led the way out of the study.

If His Highness trusted him, there was nothing more to say.

His job was simply to prove worthy of that trust.

Martin’s fist clenched tightly.

‘I will serve His Highness to the very end.’

That heartfelt trust from his lord renewed Martin’s sense of loyalty once again.

---

“Your Highness!”

Upon arriving at the records archive, Zenon greeted him warmly.

Rohan’s lips curled up at the clear change in his attitude.

“How have you been?”

“Me? Well… always the same. I haven’t been home in two days because of overtime, so I look a mess.”

Zenon scratched his head and smiled awkwardly.

The dark circles under his eyes and their lifeless glimmer showed his exhaustion.

Finding it endearing, Rohan joked with a grin.

“You haven’t even washed properly, so the flies are gathering. Want me to catch them for you?”

“Oh, no! Leave them be. I’m raising them.”

Even Martin, who usually just listened, let out a small laugh at Zenon’s cheerful words.

“By the way… is that gentleman your escort knight? I think I’ve seen him before.”

“Yes, that’s right. This is Sir Martin Ronesis.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Sir Knight! Sorry for the late introduction. I’m Zenon Lorance.”

At Zenon’s bright greeting, Martin simply lifted his hand in a brief wave.

He was clearly shy with strangers.

“Anyway, Your Highness, I’ve heard some rumors lately.”

“Rumors?”

“I heard you put a crooked steward behind bars for embezzlement, and even attended the breakfast meeting!”

“Ah.”

If even Zenon, who almost never left the archive due to overwork, had heard, rumors about him must have swept the palace.

“Everyone thinks you must be after the Crown Prince’s position.”

“And what do you think?”

“M-me?”

Zenon scratched his cheek.

“Well… I haven’t really thought much about it, haha.”

“Good. No need to think about it.”

Rohan patted Zenon’s shoulder.

“I’m sure you have your hands full here. Don’t trouble yourself with such things.”

“Haha! You’re right. Honestly, the way things work here is ridiculous. They completely grind people down.”

The job of a records archive scribe was to organize documents and find them upon request.

It sounded simple, but the problem was the sheer amount—hundreds of documents poured in daily from all across the empire.

This third archive, where Zenon worked, mostly dealt with documents relating to internal disputes.

“Yeah, I think it’s absurd too,” Rohan said, glancing around at the shelves packed with documents.

“To make you handle all this alone. It’s not like the palace is short on staff.”

“Well…”

Zenon pouted.

“Your Highness might not know this, but this place is where they dump smart guys with no money or backing.”

“Hmm, but the Lorance family isn’t exactly lacking. Why do you say you have no backing?”

The Lorance family was by no means in such a position.

Zenon’s father, Count Lorance, was a noble respected by the people of the empire.

Zenon grinned sheepishly at Rohan’s question.

“If I don’t use it, it’s as good as not having it, right? And I’d rather not rely on my father’s power for my own sake.”

“Haha.”

That upright personality was exactly like Count Lorance.

“Ah, right. I need some documents.”

“Documents?”

At Rohan’s request, Zenon’s face paled.

“Don’t tell me, like last time… a mountain of records…?”

Back then, he’d been asked for extremely old records, digging through even the historical archive.

Just thinking about having to do that again made Zenon’s head spin.

“No, no.”

Rohan quickly waved his hand.

“Recently, there have been a lot of incidents related to the Gerald territory’s mines. I’d like to read up on them.”

“Oh! That’s fairly recent. That’s a relief.”

Zenon sighed with relief, then stroked his chin, eyeing the shelves.

“The Gerald territory dispute… if I recall, it centered on conflict with the dwarves, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“Just a moment. I should be able to find those right away.”

Zenon dragged a ladder over to a bookshelf.

“It should be around here somewhere…”

Rohan watched Zenon search with confident eyes and felt a quiet admiration.

‘There must have been countless incidents, but he can find the right one immediately. That’s impressive, now as ever.’

Rohan glanced at Martin, who was also watching Zenon with interest.

How many minutes passed like that?

“Ah! Here it is!”

Of course.

He was certainly talented.

Martin stepped forward to help as Zenon, groaning under the pile of documents, precariously climbed down the ladder.

“Whew, thank you, Sir Knight! I almost fell and cracked my head open.”

“It’s nothing.”

Thud!

The stack of documents landed on the large desk.

“The mining issue has been ongoing for a long time. With all the recent reports, there’s quite a bit here.”

“You remember all these details?”

“Hmm… it’s not that I try to remember, but when I hear something related, it all links together like a chain. Strange, isn’t it?”

He was grinning foolishly now, but this was exactly why he would later become the youngest-ever Director of the Imperial Information Department.

‘Exceptional information management skills.’

In Rohan’s view, Zenon was a genius in this field.

“Thank you again, Zenon.”

“Of course, Your Highness! Please visit again! Promise!”

Did Zenon know?

That he was destined to become the next Director of the Information Department, holding not only the affairs of the palace but the entire empire in his hands.

“He seems like a very cheerful person.”

Once outside the archive, Martin commented quietly.

“Doesn’t he? Really… you never know what fate has in store.”

Rohan smiled wryly.

Who would have guessed that such a bright Zenon would one day stand at the execution platform, his eyes brimming with bloody tears.

Of course, in this life, he would never let that happen… Still, memories from his previous life sometimes surfaced, unbidden.

“I’m hungry. Shall we go eat?”

Rohan changed the subject, and Martin agreed.

“That sounds good.”

With that, the two headed toward Boronia Palace.