Chapter 58: A Long-Awaited Cup of Tea

Elyseon Monastery.

Before the sun reached its zenith.

Within the spacious room, Prior Collin held a wooden rattle in his hand, shaking it with an expressionless face.

Clink, clink.

His wrist moved without much enthusiasm, but the sound was surprisingly cheerful.

“By the way… why is he suddenly coming?”

Collin sighed, muttering as he looked at the rattle.

He had received the message that Crown Prince Rohan would be visiting Elyseon Monastery just last night.

The letter, marked ‘Urgent’, contained no specific reason—only an instruction to “be prepared.”

“Could it be… he’s coming to keep watch?”

His eyes narrowed.

Of course, his hand continued to shake the rattle.

Noah’s eyes sparkled at the ringing sound, and a tiny hand reached out.

Not yet even a hundred days old, those little hands were filled with an astonishing vitality.

“Come now, Your Highness. Your brother will be visiting today.”

Collin laughed softly.

As he fixed the blankets, he murmured again.

“Anyone seeing this would think you’re my own child. I’m fussier than your real parents.”

It was amusing.

Even after Crown Prince Rohan visited, he sent letters every week without fail.

Knowing that the monastery’s situation was far from peaceful these days, the fact that he never forgot his little sister was surprising.

“If the Crown Prince becomes Emperor… the Grand Chamberlain will have his hands full, wouldn’t you agree, Your Highness?”

He chuckled, speaking to Noah.

Checking the child’s temperature, how much she ate, her weight, her health.

To record all of this and report it weekly was no simple request.

But he had faithfully complied with every demand.

The rewards were generous, but the real reason was that, over time, he’d grown attached to Noah.

Beneath the rattle, Noah lay in her crib, flapping her uncontrollable arms.

“Well, she is kind of cute…”

He’d cared for Princess Noah so much, seeing her often, that he found himself growing fond.

‘Maybe I’m getting old.’

He’d once been called the “Iron Minister.”

The one who led the empire’s hardline policies and stood at the forefront of power struggles.

He who had prided himself on being called heartless was now, of his own accord, shaking a rattle in front of a baby!

Every morning, he was the first to open the door to this room.

Even though a wet nurse resided here, he often checked on Noah and played with her when he could.

It became a routine.

The princess was so small and fragile.

It was hard to believe that such a tiny, delicate child had been sent here with a wet nurse just one day after birth.

Even for someone who was a complete stranger, she was pitiable.

Collin clicked his tongue inwardly.

“…Maybe because I have no children of my own.”

He’d lost his wife early and never remarried.

He had lived single ever since.

With age came loneliness, and part of the reason he’d come to the monastery was to fill that emptiness.

At that moment—

Knock, knock.

A cautious knock came at the door.

“Prior, His Highness the Crown Prince has arrived.”

Collin paused, rattle still in hand.

Then, slowly, he nodded.

“Very well. I’ll be out soon.”

He looked down at Noah again.

The baby smiled brightly, still reaching for the rattle. Collin smiled quietly and placed the rattle in Noah’s hand. The rattle chimed again, clear and pure.

“Your Highness.”

Collin lowered himself to meet Noah’s eyes.

“Enjoy yourself. I’ll be back soon.”

He gently kissed Noah’s forehead and quietly left the room.

---

The monastery’s simple but tidy main gate, the well-kept fences, and the lavish lavender blooming along the walls quietly welcomed visitors.

Bathed in the soft glow of morning sunlight, the monastery appeared peaceful and serene from the outside. But inside, dozens of nuns and monks bustled about, preparing for their day.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been here. The place has changed quite a bit.”

Count Niedro, stepping down from the carriage, looked out at the monastery and spoke with a hint of admiration.

“You’ve been here before?”

“A very long time ago. Before Collin Meister, the current Prior, acquired the monastery.”

He stretched his neck, looking left and right.

“They say it’s become a retreat for nobles… It certainly doesn’t look like a typical monastery.”

“Welcome, Your Highness the Crown Prince.”

As they passed through the tranquil gate and entered the inner yard, a familiar deep voice rang out from somewhere.

An elderly man appeared, dressed neatly in the monastery’s formal garb.

His gray hair was slicked back, and his posture was straight as a rod.

Collin Meister. Former Grand Chamberlain, now Prior of Elyseon Monastery.

Collin gave Rohan a simple bow, then turned his gaze to Count Niedro standing beside him.

“Count, it’s been a while.”

Count Niedro squinted at Collin, then smirked.

“You’ve aged a lot yourself. Should I call you Prior now?”

They exchanged a brief handshake.

Outwardly calm, but between these two—who’d long shared the empire’s secret corridors of power—a subtle current flowed.

Collin smiled faintly.

“My title has changed, but I’m still in the business of watching over people. Though now, it’s life I tend to, not affairs of state.”

“You do look better than before. I never imagined you’d become Prior…”

Count Niedro joked, and Collin chuckled lightly in response.

“Well, unlike you, I wanted to spend my twilight years in a little more peace.”

For a moment, the conversation between the two passed in a light, joking tone.

But beneath it, a deep-rooted trust and political tension lingered from the past.

Rohan watched them in silence for a while before speaking quietly.

“Let’s go inside and talk.”

Collin nodded, readily leading the way.

“You’ll be heading there first, I presume?”

At his ambiguous question, Count Niedro tilted his head slightly.

Rohan smiled.

“Of course. How is the child?”

“No need to ask.”

At this, Count Niedro’s mouth fell open.

“Your Highness… D-Don’t tell me you have a secret child?”

At that, Rohan burst out laughing and Collin shook his head.

---

Meanwhile, the Imperial Palace was bustling from early morning.

News of the Emperor’s outing spread, and chamberlains and attendants rushed about in tense anticipation.

But today, Emperor Beltar was not heading to the council chamber or the diplomatic reception hall. His destination was somewhere special.

The destination…

“Is this outfit… a bit too extravagant?”

“Not at all, Your Majesty. It suits you perfectly.”

At Beltar’s question, the lady-in-waiting bowed deeply and replied.

Today, he was headed to the Boronia Palace.

Sitting upright in his carriage, the Emperor fiddled with his sleeve.

His hair was combed more neatly than usual, and he wore the formal attire reserved for imperial outings.

He swallowed, feeling a subtle tension.

For some reason, his heart was pounding in his throat.

“…What’s the point of dressing up now, anyway.”

But he had to.

At the very least, if he was to stand proudly before someone.

‘To think she’d send me a letter.’

The night before, Beltar had received a single secret letter.

The sender was none other than Empress Amanda.

She asked if he’d care for a cup of tea, should time permit.

For that, he’d canceled all his morning appointments save for the breakfast council.

How could he not be delighted, having waited so long for this letter?

The carriage rolled smoothly to a stop before the stone gate of Boronia Palace.

Compared to the main palace, it exuded a much quieter, more peaceful air.

Passing through the entrance of the gardens, beyond the courtyard, the face he had longed for finally appeared.

Empress Amanda.

Amidst the bare winter trees lashed by the biting wind, she stood, draped in a thick green mantle.

Her hair, swaying gently in the breeze, was still beautiful; her eyes retained their noble grace, despite the years.

“Welcome, Your Majesty.”

Amanda greeted him with dignified courtesy.

“…It’s been a long time, Empress.”

The two regarded each other silently for a moment.

Then, as if by silent agreement, they walked together to the drawing room.

Once inside, they said nothing until the steam rising from their teacups had somewhat faded.

Awkward silence.

At last, it was Emperor Beltar who spoke first.

“You… seem much better.”

Amanda tilted her head slightly.

“Thanks to you. Thank you for your concern.”

At her words, Beltar let out a small sigh.

Her kind tone eased his nerves a little.

Yet, finding the right words to follow was difficult.

What should he say first?

He thought, ‘Perhaps this is what they mean when they say a man becomes nothing but a foolish boy before the woman he loves.’

“Ahem.”

He cleared his throat and spoke again.

“I was quite surprised by your sudden letter.”

“It was a bit sudden, wasn’t it? I apologize, Your Majesty. Once I make up my mind, I tend to act in haste.”

Indeed, that was her.

Amanda, the country girl he’d once met by chance, had swept Beltar’s heart away with her boldness.

His arranged marriage with Sherilda had been a good match, but there was no love between them.

Amanda, whom he met afterwards, became his first love.

“I’m always sorry toward you.”

He couldn’t bring himself to utter the cowardly excuse that he had no choice.

Given the circumstances at the time…

During those bloody years of imperial succession, Beltar couldn’t bring someone precious into that chaos.

So twelve years had passed.

He’d misunderstood her because of a fake letter, believing Amanda had changed.

“There’s no need to be sorry, Your Majesty. I’m sure you made the best choice you could.”

At that moment, Amanda reached out and took Beltar’s hand.

The Emperor closed his eyes as if about to collapse.

He couldn’t remember the last time her hand had felt this warm.

“Amanda…”

For that moment, there were no Emperor and Empress.

Only two hearts, once parted, looking upon each other again.

In the silence, Amanda spoke gently.

“…A few days ago, Rohan came to see me.”

At her words, Beltar raised his head.