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Episode 2
At the emperor’s sudden appearance, the two of them immediately bowed their heads.
The chief steward spoke in confusion.
“I was told Your Majesty would be resting in your chambers today.”
“Just because I rest, does the empire rest as well?”
Clayden, the steward remembered as the crown prince, had never been particularly diligent.
Yet here he was—having traveled all the way from the North to the capital in one stretch, without even shaking off his fatigue, already coming to the study. It was unexpected.
Seeing him again after several years, looking even more imposing than before, the chief steward felt his heart stir.
Maybe exile really did change him.
While that thought passed through his mind, Clayden sat down in the study chair.
It was the moment the owner of the study changed—from father to son.
Emperor Clayden smiled at them, as if the moment stirred something in him as well.
The chief steward explained,
“I was in the middle of teaching Lady Emilia the locations of the furnishings. We planned to continue her training little by little after Your Majesty retired to your chambers, so for now, please give your instructions to me, Your Majesty.”
“Leave it to me.”
The chief steward flinched at the emperor’s unexpected words.
Don’t tell me… he didn’t even rest just to torment the Margrave of Valetta’s daughter?
Memories of being bullied by the young Crown Prince Clayden long ago resurfaced vividly, making the steward shudder.
But even if the emperor did torment her, how could he possibly step in?
With a gloomy tone, the chief steward said,
“Your Majesty, it is your first day back in the palace. Please do not overexert yourself.”
Worrying, aren’t you?
Clayden seemed to say as he let out a short, amused laugh.
Once the chief steward hurried away, only the emperor and Emilia remained in the study.
An awkward silence. Lingering awkward glances. Even the air felt thick and heavy.
Still, Emilia stepped forward to the desk as she had been taught, and stood there with her head bowed politely.
Before the emperor, one must bow with both hands visible in front. One must not speak unless spoken to first. One must not question orders. When walking together, remain three steps behind…
Clayden knew very well that if he did not open his mouth, she would have to stand there exactly like that until sunset.
He studied her quietly, thinking over and over.
Why did she make that face back then?
Yesterday, after five long years, he had returned to the imperial palace.
In the meantime, tragedies had struck the imperial family one after another, monsters had overrun the North—and he had returned as emperor.
After the whirlwind of the day, he had planned to fall asleep early.
But sleep refused to come.
Emilia Valetta.
Her face had grown clearer and clearer behind his closed eyes.
Lying on the emperor’s bed—wide enough to rival the cabin he had lived in during exile—Clayden’s thoughts only sharpened as the night deepened.
The looks of envy aimed at him five years ago, when he had been exiled, were still vivid in his mind.
Eyes filled with contempt, as if looking at a beast that should not exist.
Yet even then, he knew what lay beneath that contempt.
Fear.
Fear of the man who dared to kill a divine beast.
But today, Clayden confirmed that the world had completely forgotten that memory.
At the abdication ceremony, the eyes watching him place the imperial crown on his head held nothing but admiration and awe. And fear, as well.
A bitter smile came to his lips—but it was inevitable. Everything was simply returning to where it belonged.
Clayden A. Locarso is favored by the gods.
There was a reason the world whispered such things.
His eyes and ears worked just fine—he knew he was different. To deny being exceptional and outstanding would not be humility, but a lie.
He did not consider lies a virtue.
It was only natural that people would either fall for him or fear him.
The young lady who had screamed in despair after losing the study maid position—that was a normal reaction.
But when he turned back to look at her in the hallway yesterday, he heard something crack.
Emilia Valetta.
That expression.
He could not forget that damn expression.
The look of a woman in despair at the fact that she had to stay by his side.
How…?
How dare she?
No—how dare didn’t even begin to explain it.
He was perfectly calm in the face of hatred or killing intent directed at him. Because at its root was fear.
Even now, he could name at least five nobles who wished for his death.
But her reaction was fundamentally different.
He couldn’t quite put it into words, but it was deeply unpleasant, unsettling, and above all, not normal.
Clayden suddenly sat upright in bed and muttered,
“Do you… hate me?”
That realization shocked the sleep right out of him. He tossed and turned until dawn, finally dozing off briefly—then, once morning came, he couldn’t help but head to the study.
And there she was.
Emilia Valetta. With a face calm beyond reason.
Hiding the despair and resentment she had shown behind his back yesterday, wearing a mask of composure!
Clayden narrowed his eyes, staring at Emilia—the very cause of his sleepless night.
Meanwhile, Emilia had no way of knowing anything about the emperor’s sleep quality.
Expecting her to know that would be unreasonable. Observing the emperor’s health and mood every morning was the responsibility of the bedchamber maids, after all.
She only noticed that the emperor’s facial muscles were twitching strangely as he looked at her and lowered her gaze.
People of the capital tended to look down on Northerners, treating them like country bumpkins or people from monster-infested lands.
On top of that, Emilia understood why Emperor Clayden might feel especially uncomfortable with her.
After suffering so much in the North, wouldn’t it bring back unpleasant memories to see another Northerner standing right in front of him?
She was the daughter of the Margrave of Valetta. Her father had, unintentionally, acted as one of his watchers during exile. There was no way the new emperor would view her kindly.
So her assignment as a study maid was clearly a mistake by the chief steward. He must have overinterpreted the emperor merely recognizing her as a Northerner and glancing her way…
Emilia lifted her head and asked politely.
In that instant, two rules were broken at once: keep your head bowed and do not speak first.
“May I ask one question, Your Majesty?”
She spoke first.
Clayden’s eyebrows twitched as he stared at her, and she stiffened in tension.
“A question… Fine. Ask.”
“Your Majesty returned to the imperial palace yesterday.”
Clayden’s throat bobbed as he cut her off sharply.
“So you’re asking how, after five years away, I could know where everything is in the study my father used?”
Emilia was flustered by the emotional edge in his response and lowered her eyes again.
But she had to be sure.
The emperor would officially begin his duties tomorrow. That meant her work would begin in earnest as well.
And she could not stand the idea of fumbling around as a study maid who didn’t even know where things were.
The emperor seemed to think her duties were trivial—but to her, they absolutely were not.
She did not want to earn the emperor’s displeasure.
Today was the only chance. She believed it was right to speak to him and receive proper training from the chief steward before it was too late.
Then Clayden spoke quickly.
“That drawer behind you. It has spare stationery and paperweights. The drawer below contains ink bottles and fountain pens, arranged by color density.”
Emilia immediately opened the drawers one by one.
“That is correct, Your Majesty.”
Her answer—eyes slightly widened in surprise—made Clayden’s expression stiffen.
That is correct, Your Majesty?
Not ‘Oh my, how did you know?” I am amazed that the ruler of the empire knows even such trivial details!
Staring at Emilia’s calm face, Clayden gripped the armrest tightly.
She continued,
“The compartment below is.”
“It’s empty. That drawer is.”
Clayden cut her off mid-sentence, then clamped his mouth shut at his own absurd behavior.
But Emilia simply waited for him to continue.
With an utterly calm expression, as if it were unthinkable to interrupt the emperor.
After a few more seconds passed, and she concluded he had no intention of continuing, Emilia opened the drawer below.
Inside was a single wooden box. Clayden’s eyebrow twitched at the unexpected sight.
Emilia took out the box and opened the lid. It was empty—a spare box kept for use when needed.
She put it back neatly and spoke politely. Flawlessly polite.
“As expected, it is empty, Your Majesty.”
Since the box was empty, it was technically an empty compartment. But still…
Is she… messing with me right now?
Why did I even answer? And she even praised me…?
The emperor was swept into a surge of emotion.
Then Emilia stepped closer and apologized softly.
“The chief steward is systematic and meticulous. Since the days of His Late Majesty, he would not have changed the placement of items. As the one born the master of this palace, there is no way Your Majesty would not know this. Please forgive my ignorance.”
“…Ha.”
To his own surprise, Clayden felt the anger that had risen to his throat immediately subside—only to be replaced by a new one.
She’s really pushing my buttons…
Suppressing his emotions, he spoke in a rough voice.
“Go back. Rest today.”
Emilia bowed and replied,
“Then I will call for the chief steward.”
Even if the emperor wished to be alone, Emilia had a duty to report that to the chief steward. Once she left, the steward would come running.
But between the chief steward and this infuriating maid, he would rather deal with the maid.
You could bully a maid as much as you liked. With the chief steward, you might end up hearing things you don’t want to hear.
Blurting it out, he said,
“Don’t rest. You check it.”
“Your Majesty.”
That calm address sent his irritation spiking.
What now? Why not?
“I fear I may touch something I should not. This is Your Majesty’s private study.”
Why couldn’t she ever just let a single thing slide?
And always with the right arguments.
She was right.
The bookshelf at the back, where the desk and safe were located, was strictly the emperor’s domain. Even cleaning had to be done under his direct supervision.
In the end, Clayden had to admit it.
Emilia Valetta was intelligent, careful, hard to fluster, and possessed excellent emotional control.
Her posture was neat, her etiquette flawless—and even her appearance was calm enough not to distract the eye.
