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Episode 6
The chief steward stiffened his facial muscles and spoke seriously.
“She’s from the North, isn’t she? My wife is also from the North—do you know how quiet she is? One day, she suddenly said, ‘Honey, I’m giving birth tomorrow.’ Not a word before that! Can you believe it?”
What kind of ridiculous lie was that? This time, Clayden glared at the chief steward.
“After talking with her, I think she simply doesn’t know how to express her feelings toward Your Majesty. What can be done? A generous emperor must give her a chance.”
Clayden listened to the steward with a slightly uneasy feeling.
It was true that the resentment in Emilia’s heart made him uncomfortable. But as he listened, a question began to form.
In the three days he had observed her, Emilia Valetta was not a woman whose emotions shifted easily.
So even if the people of Valetta had endlessly cursed the ‘butcher crown prince,’ she might not have accepted it so blindly.
Clayden suddenly wondered—maybe she doesn’t hate me that much.
“They say only someone who’s eaten meat knows how to enjoy it. If she sees Your Majesty’s strengths often enough, she’ll learn to be moved. And once that feeling builds up, expression naturally follows!”
The chief steward said this with a certain confidence.
There was no room for argument when it came to Emperor Clayden’s looks and abilities.
And once you got to know him, he had plenty of human charm as well. The problem was that no one ever stayed long enough to discover it.
He had a special talent for making people fall for him instantly, then run away trembling…
The chief steward quickly shook his head, brushing off the memories.
But Emilia Valetta had no choice but to endure. Unless jewels rained down on Valetta territory, that is.
Clayden pondered the steward’s words with a serious expression.
“Hm…”
“Perhaps Lady Emilia simply needs time, Your Majesty.”
In truth, the chief steward believed the first step to solving this problem was for the emperor to treat her more kindly.
After all, the one who started the problem was the emperor. The power gap between the two was impossible to compare.
“She came alone from the North to the imperial palace. From her position, how frightening must Your Majesty be?
Clayden recalled just how different the North and the capital were, and found himself agreeing.
No matter how much it was for her family, coming here alone could not have been easy.
“That distance is likely greater than Your Majesty imagines. That’s what must be closed first.”
The chief steward glanced at Clayden’s expression.
Clayden frowned slightly and muttered,
“With my natural authority, that distance seems impossible to close…”
The chief steward had only just met him again after five years. He needed time to readjust.
He cleared his throat quietly to hide his suffering.
“What I mean is—so that Lady Emilia can feel less tense in Your Majesty’s presence…”
“Right. Young ladies often forget etiquette in front of me because they’re overwhelmed the moment they see me. By my charm.”
“Uh…”
“So if I simply give her plenty of chances to look at me, the problem will solve itself.”
Turning resentment into fondness.
Clayden believed he had found a good solution. And it was very easy and simple.
His intense reaction to Emilia’s attitude wasn’t just about doubting his own charm.
He wanted to completely wash away the memories of the five years he had spent at the edge of the North. He didn’t want anyone to keep looking at him through the lens of those memories.
Confidence restored, Clayden smiled the dazzling smile that had once caused countless young ladies to suffer sleepless nights.
“Well done, Chief Steward. This will be very helpful.”
With his face stiff as stone, the chief steward had only one possible reply.
“I am… honored, Your Majesty.”
Final day of the lessons.
When Clayden appeared in the study, Emilia flinched.
“Good morning, Your Majesty.”
It was because he responded with an expression she had never seen before.
“The weather is lovely today, Emilia.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. The weather is… lovely.”
Her voice trailing off, Emilia turned to prepare the tea.
It was the first time in her life she had experienced such a smile. From Emperor Clayden—or from anyone.
So bright it almost hurt her eyes. So intense it was uncomfortable.
She couldn’t find the right word to describe it.
As her hands moved quickly, preparing the tea, she searched for that word.
Then, as she checked the aroma, it came to her—and she muttered without thinking,
“Perfect!”
That’s right. His smile was flawless. Its beauty was so intense it felt almost inhuman.
She had never seen a man as beautiful as Clayden.
So the ultimate charming smile he used to dominate banquets struck her like a shock.
She was a woman born in the North, raised among northern men.
Endless winters like disasters, constantly scarce food, and ever-present fear of monster waves—people who lived like that never wore expressions like his.
It was unfamiliar. And unsettling.
But hearing her mutter, Clayden responded gently, still smiling.
“A perfect tea, then. I look forward to it, Emilia.”
There is no such thing as a perfect tea—only tastes that happen to align.
Emilia brought the tea with quiet fear, wondering if it would satisfy the emperor.
Clayden inhaled the aroma with a pleased expression. The tea was just right—but not astonishing.
Still, he chose not to say that. She needed to see the image of a kind and benevolent emperor.
Emilia asked softly,
“How is it?”
“Perfect.”
When Clayden answered with a gentle smile, Emilia briefly thought the light was blinding.
To protect her eyes, she quickly looked out the window. The unusually clear sky filled her vision.
Meanwhile, Clayden felt a slight sting of irritation when Emilia avoided his gaze even after he praised her tea.
But he kept repeating the chief steward’s words in his mind.
She just doesn’t know. She grew up among those dark, rough Northerners—no way her sense of beauty developed.
The angrier he felt, the gentler his smile became.
Even while she cleaned up the tea set, he continued smiling at her.
And Emilia felt as if a small ray of sunlight was following her around the room. She felt slightly dizzy.
But how could she dare tell the emperor to stop staring?
With a troubled heart, she lowered her gaze.
Just then, the senior administrator hurried in.
Placing documents on the emperor’s desk, he said,
“These are the construction estimates you requested. Transportation costs are heavily affected by the season, so please keep in mind that the expenses will change when the season does, Your Majesty.”
“I’ll remember.”
Then, in a gentle tone, the emperor asked,
“Emilia, shall we begin?”
Why was he asking her? Emilia almost hiccupped in surprise, but she answered quickly.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Why His Majesty kept directing his words to the maid instead of him made the senior administrator uneasy as he began the lesson.
Today’s lesson covered relatively light material—a summary of the major events that had occurred in the empire during the five years the emperor had been absent from the capital.
There was no need to pass documents around, which was a relief—but Emilia found it hard to calm herself.
That perfect expression. That gentle voice. That soft gaze…
She almost felt like crying, realizing the emperor had started tormenting her in a new way.
Why is His Majesty suddenly acting like this?
She would rather he shout that he hated everything from the North than suffocate her like this.
As the senior administrator, deep in explanation, suddenly froze searching for a word, Clayden looked at her again.
With a smile warm like moonlight.
“Gasp.”
Emilia held her breath, tightly clasping her hands inside the folds of her skirt.
What am I supposed to do in moments like this? Should I just beg?
Afraid their eyes would meet, she lowered her gaze and stared out the window behind the senior administrator.
That way, it looked like she was listening—while giving her mind a brief escape.
But Clayden couldn’t fail to notice her attempt to avoid him.
She seemed to have no intention of responding to his smile, no matter what he did.
Truly a woman who refuses to bend.
At that moment, the senior administrator was passionately talking about a territorial war caused by a scandal between two southern noble families. But Clayden wasn’t listening.
Knowing such gossip was useful for controlling conversations at parties—and yet—
Clayden realized how his own maid was ruining his future parties and social life, and his irritation grew.
Of course, he knew this whole situation started with him.
But just because the emperor was wrong didn’t mean the maid was allowed to be wrong as well.
…Or does it?
He decided he would need a refresher on imperial law.
Normally, if an emperor needed legal advice, he would summon judges—but Emilia Valetta clearly did not fall under “normal cases.” Might as well study other laws, too.
In any case, the fact that his ultimate smile had been rendered useless was deeply irritating.
He had never intentionally tried to win someone’s favor before. His charm and status usually made it unnecessary.
Yet now, despite making a deliberate effort for the first time, she responded with complete indifference.
That calm, graceful profile began to stir Clayden’s fighting spirit.
Emilia Valetta. Now I understand why we met so late.
As his emotions boiled over, the senior administrator finally finished.
“Th-That concludes all the prepared material, Your Majesty. Do you have any questions?”
But Clayden had lost the thread long ago.
He asked the senior administrator with nothing but a sharp look.
If you know how to make a stubborn, bear-like Northern woman smile, answer me, Senior Administrator Clanel.
