PB 09

Chapter 09

“Your Majesty…?”
Seren asked back in a voice full of disbelief. Isbrant narrowed his eyes.

“I came to keep my promise—what is all this commotion?”

“Promise…?”

Seren echoed the word without thinking, then remembered. He had said he would take her wherever she wanted to go. A flicker of happiness rose in her chest—but that wasn’t the problem right now.

She asked in a trembling voice,

“Lord Is… you’re… His Majesty the Emperor?”

“Have you been crying?”

Instead of answering, he strode toward her and asked the question. The fact that she couldn’t immediately deny it became an answer in itself, and Seren hurriedly tried to stand.

She slipped off the bed as if rolling down and attempted to kneel on the floor, but before she could, Isbrant slid his hands under her arms, lifted her easily, and set her back onto the bed. Then he brushed at her reddened eyes.

Before he could ask again, Seren answered.

“I wasn’t crying.”

“Your eyes are red.”

“They get red easily when I’m excited.”

That was what she said, but in truth she felt as if tears might fall at any moment, so she pressed down hard on her emotions. She shouldn’t be speaking like this. He was the Emperor. She should have knelt, not dared to raise her eyes to meet his, and spoken with formal respect.

But perhaps because of everything that had happened over the past few weeks, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Her emotions couldn’t catch up with what she had just learned. Lord Is was the Emperor. There had been a marriage proposal. When she had said she couldn’t feel honored to be chosen by a man whose face she didn’t even know, he had replied that they already knew each other’s faces.

Only now did all the strange details fall into place—why she was in the imperial palace, why she had been treated so generously, why the Duchess Sons had been so polite, why there had been a guardian standing watch at night.

Though the one she had thought was a guardian… had not really been one.

She now knew who the partner in that marriage proposal was.

Something surged upward from deep inside her chest. She felt it as betrayal—though she herself wasn’t sure betrayal of what. Like someone on the verge of a breakdown, she suddenly thought of Skyflower Hill. She couldn’t tell whether the shock was scattering her thoughts—or whether those drifting thoughts were appearing because her mind was trying to escape the shock.

Tears suddenly streamed down her face.

Isbrant bent slightly, his golden eyes shining hypnotically as he met her gaze.

“Why are you crying?”

“I—I don’t know.”

Seren stammered. She truly didn’t know. It already took all her strength just to keep from breaking into sobs.

His hand gently traced the wet line along her cheek.

“Do you dislike the idea of marrying me?”

“It’s not about liking or disliking… I…”

“It’s not as if a stranger proposed to you.”

His gentle voice wrapped around her heart, making it tremble. He suddenly gave a small laugh, as if recalling something.

“Come to think of it, calling it a proposal isn’t quite right. This should be the proper order.”

At the flick of his finger, a servant hurried forward carrying a box. Inside was a set of golden jewelry. Isbrant took out a ring and held it out to Seren.

“Will you marry me?”

This was unbelievable.

She had only known him for two weeks. They had barely exchanged more than a handful of real conversations.

Yes, her heart had fluttered a little. She had thought that when she returned home, she would simply treasure the memory of having shared strangely intimate conversations with a beautiful man.

But could she really refuse this?

Her heart was pounding.

As she lowered her head, his hand gently brushed her hair.

“Do you not want to marry me?”

“I don’t know… I… I wanted to marry someone I love.”

She had never envied people of power. She had simply wanted to build a happy family with someone she loved, tending the small estate where her parents had lived all their lives and where she had been born.

They would laugh together often, argue sometimes, and miss each other at times. In spring, she would walk barefoot beside her gentle husband across Skyflower Hill. In autumn, they might hide in the reeds and roll about laughing.

She could picture that life so easily—and she knew it would be her perfect happiness.

If she nodded to the man before her now, all of that would vanish like foam.

She felt a deep sense of loss for something she had never even held.

Isbrant’s hand moved from her hair to her cheek, then to her chin, gently lifting her face. Their breaths were so close that Seren unconsciously held hers.

Why me?

That question rose first in her mind.

It wasn’t even clear whether anything had truly begun between them.

But she couldn’t ask. The scent of him seemed to melt away every thought in her head.

Without realizing it, she tightly closed her eyes.

Isbrant’s lips lightly touched hers.

The kiss quickly deepened. He gently bit her lower lip to part it, his tongue brushing against her teeth. Startled, Seren tried to pull away, but he caught her hand.

A shocked Wayne was dragged out of the room by the Duchess Sons, and soon the chamber fell silent.

“Mmm…”

Seren tried to breathe steadily, forcing herself not to resist. Their fingers intertwined, and each time she tried to inhale, their tongues tangled again.

“Mm…!”

A soft, restrained sound escaped her throat.

At last, Isbrant slowly pulled away, lightly brushing her damp eyelashes after one final stroke across her lips. Seren released a long breath without realizing it.

“Let me make you love me.”

“…Your Majesty.”

“In return, I promise you everything I can give. Would that still not be enough?”

He pressed his lips to her palm as he spoke. The controlled elegance of his expression had vanished, replaced by a heated golden gaze that seemed ready to melt her entirely.

Seren stared at him in a daze.

He loves me.

That was what she thought. If this wasn’t love, then no man in the world understood love at all.

So she accepted the ring.

“To Seren, whom I miss.”

I’m sorry this letter is late.
I wanted to write as soon as I arrived, but it took some time to adjust.

The training in the Guardian Corps is stricter than I expected. From the first day, they worked us relentlessly. For about two weeks, I kept falling asleep before sunset and dragging myself to the washroom at the sound of the wake-up bell.

But it’s getting better now. I know this is all necessary. If I want to return safely and in good health, no amount of training is too much.

Ah, I can already picture you smiling while reading this. But it’s true—I really am determined.

They say that if I earn a medal, I can finish my service immediately. So I’m going to try my best. I didn’t realize it before, but I seem to have some talent with weapons. If things go well, I might even join the spear unit instead of the shield unit.

Still, don’t worry. You know I’m not the type to push myself recklessly. When real Chaos appears, the senior guardians handle it.

I’m sure that place is as beautiful as ever, but tell me if there’s any new news.

Oh, and I found some pretty stationery at a general store, so I bought a bundle. It’s a bit strange to send stationery as a gift along with a letter, but I hope you like it.

May 3rd, Solar Year 1010.
Already missing you,
Edward.

“To kind Edward.”

It feels a little awkward calling you kind.

I’m glad to hear you’re adjusting well. But please don’t push yourself too hard. You might get hurt, so don’t step forward too recklessly.

There really must be a lot of Chaos in the capital. Even in Esdel, a minor Chaos appeared last month. Nothing serious happened, but I heard several members of the Guardian Corps were injured. It caused quite a stir when the Baron Dyke’s son had to withdraw.

It’s okay even if you don’t become a guardian—what matters most is that you return safely and healthy. Your mother is very worried, and so am I. As for my father, don’t worry about him. Once he gives permission, that’s the end of it. Even if he doesn’t—well, that’s the end of it too. I’m an adult now.

I received your gift—thank you so much! I even wrote a bunch of letters to my friends to show it off.

I picked some skyflowers, dried them, and tried to include them in the envelopes—but maybe because they’re so small, they barely have any scent. I even failed at making them into a fragrance.

So I didn’t send them to my friends—only to you. Don’t think they’re trivial or like trash. I picked them while thinking of you.

June 1st, Solar Year 1010.
With a happy heart,
Seren.