PB 12

Chapter 12

“Isn’t there anything you want?”
“Everything I’ve received so far has been wonderful.”
“I’ll leave the key to the report with Lady Sons. Go in, and if you see anything you want, take it.”
“…Alright.”

Seren answered, feeling a little disappointed. It was a bit extravagant, but so many things had been showered upon her that she could no longer tell which were his gifts and which were given because they were deemed necessary for someone about to become Empress.

“Why?”
“Is this all the betrothal gifts?” Seren asked, pointing at the engagement ring set with golden jewels and the necklace she was wearing. There was also a bracelet in the set, though she wasn’t wearing it today. It wasn’t that she found it insufficient—she just wanted something special, chosen for her, rather than just a token she would receive anyway.

Isbrandt smiled faintly.
“It’s better if you don’t beg me for anything, Seren. If I give you something, I’ll claim a reward worth several times its value in return.”
“Oh no… I’ve already received so much.”
“The things an Empress must naturally have are yours by right. I didn’t give them on purpose.”
“How should I distinguish between the two?”

Seren, who understood becoming his Empress as accepting his love, tilted her head in curiosity. Isbrandt, still smiling, lifted his wine glass.
“Perhaps you can distinguish them by whether or not you’ll have to pay a price for them.”
“That’s frightening… I’m still not used to any of this, and I fear I’ll eventually have to pay the price.”

Seren picked up a piece of roasted turkey cut for easy eating and chewed. Then she realized he was quietly watching her lips, and she suddenly felt embarrassed, wiping her mouth to cover herself.

“Eat more.”
“N-no… I’m not very hungry.”

For some reason, eating in front of him felt shameful. Seren couldn’t help but feel conscious of being under his gaze even when breathing.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Shall I tell you about the price?”

Though his tone was calm, his voice was low and somehow evoked secretive thoughts. Seren couldn’t meet his eyes and lowered her gaze, picking up her wine glass to wet her dry lips. She sipped the pale pink sparkling wine. The bubbles should have popped in her mouth, but it felt as if they had entered her chest and sparked fireworks.

She tried to speak.
“Isbrandt… you haven’t eaten much, have you?”
“I don’t indulge in cuisine,” he replied, gesturing to a waiting attendant.

As if pre-instructed, the attendant brought a long leather box. Seren tilted her head.
“What’s that?”
“A gift.”

In other words, something deliberately given, for which she would eventually pay a price. Seren, aware of the implication, opened the box. Inside was a delicate golden chain with a small gemstone dangling at the end. Seren admired the craftsmanship.

“A bracelet? It’s so beautiful.”

She tried it on her wrist. It was a little big, but the length could be adjusted. Just as she lifted her head, smiling happily to thank him, Isbrandt was already right in front of her. Thoughts of the price and the kiss flashed through her mind simultaneously. Her lips trembled, and a thrilling shiver ran down her spine.

But instead of reaching for her cheek, he took her wrist.
“You’re wrong.”
“Eh?”
“This is for your ankle.”

He removed the chain from her wrist, knelt before her, and the attendants, unable to remain stiff while the Emperor knelt, immediately dropped to their knees. Seren, flustered, tried to stand, but before she could, Isbrandt’s hand slid under her long dress, took her left ankle, and removed her shoe.

“Ah, Is…”

With one hand holding her small foot, he pulled the silk stocking down with the index finger of the other hand. Then he pressed his lips to her ankle. Seren turned bright red, unsure what to do. Her ankle burned, as if branded. A strange sound threatened to escape her throat. She felt shame and embarrassment for what seemed inappropriate at the dining table.

Yet Isbrandt did nothing further. He simply placed the golden chain around her ankle. Jingle. She had assumed it was just a jewel, but it rang like a tiny bell. Seren looked at Isbrandt in surprise.

Looking up at his golden eyes, she closed her eyes tightly. Heat rose behind her eyelids, and when she peeked open slightly, his gaze remained fixed on her.

“I-Is…”

Seren unconsciously tensed her thighs. Her tightly clenched heels burned. He pressed his lips against the top of her foot. Seren exhaled sharply. Her body felt a tightening sensation at the center, and deep inside, it grew wet.

“That suits you well.”

His soft whisper caressed her foot and calf. Even without direct contact, Seren shivered, as if caressed. Goosebumps rose on her skin. After a final light kiss on her knee, he released her foot. Seren was already exhausted.

Isbrandt tidied her dress himself. Seren cast him a resentful glance, unsure whether it was disappointment or irritation.

“Now you can tell the difference, right?”

He smiled, resting a hand on her knee. Seren bit her lower lip and pushed him away.
“Too much so.”

Isbrandt’s laughter rained down over her flushed face. She felt his shoulder and gripped it firmly as their lips nearly touched.

The news of the royal marriage quickly spread beyond the palace. Unlike the nobles in the palace, who worried about the political implications, the common people cheered.

“They say she’s a young lady from Estdel.”
“An unranked minor noble, I hear.”
“Totally a Cinderella story!”
“They say a dragon’s mate is chosen before birth. She must be someone special.”

People talked about the royal marriage whenever they were together. It hadn’t been long since the train station incident, but all the more reason they rejoiced at this good news. Small gifts and flowers, wishing peace, were stacked along the palace walls. Guards were lenient despite such easy access to the palace.

Not everyone was pleased, of course.

“People are so thoughtless,” said Lady Kora, daughter of Count Dvar, striking her knees with a fan in a sharp voice while seated on a luxurious sofa in the reception room.
“How can a rustic girl who hasn’t learned anything become Empress?”

“Lady Kora is correct,” agreed the daughter of Baron Camille, drawing the attention of others. Rarely outspoken in this group, she spoke quickly, a bit excited.
“If he really liked her, he could have kept her as a mistress and given her lavish gifts. But the Empress is the one who leads the Empire alongside His Majesty! Only someone fitting for that position should take it!”

She glanced triumphantly around, expecting agreement. People nodded or murmured their assent, occasionally glancing at Princess Eliana, who had quietly been sitting by the window sipping tea. It was clear they were speaking to her.

Eliana lightly set down her cup and sighed.
“Well, how could I possibly question His Majesty’s will?”

Of course, she had no intention of stopping others from gossiping. As a noble lady, she concealed her thoughts, though the others could sense it. Kora snorted.
“Just wait. Let’s see if she can act like a proper Empress.”
“She will, since she’s the one His Majesty chose.”
“The Princess is far too forgiving; it’s a serious matter.”
“If His Majesty knew this, he would regret it.”
“They should have known who could truly act like an Empress.”

People vied to flatter her. Eliana relaxed slightly. No need to think too deeply. After all, the girl could do nothing. Look at today’s tea party—the attendees were almost the same. The social scene was hers, and what the new Empress could claim was practically nothing.

Eliana sighed lightly and personally served tea to everyone present.