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Episode 9
The emperor’s generosity in willingly forgiving a subordinate’s mistake was deeply admirable—but work was still work.
“Your Majesty, I”
“I asked, didn’t I?”
When Clayden cut her off, Emilia became certain that he was truly angry.
She straightened her expression and spoke quickly.
“I was thinking that the weather was nice today. And from now on, I will be careful to answer Your Majesty’s questions first.”
Clayden replied with a perfectly drawn smile.
“Well, compared to the North, the capital’s sky is much clearer and bluer.”
The northern sky he could never forget was, even on its clearest days, a deep blue that suited the bitter cold, as if even its blueness had frozen over
Clayden sensed a flicker of confusion appear in Emilia’s eyes.
Why is he suddenly talking about the sky?
“It’s fine if you don’t agree with me. Thinking your hometown’s sky is more beautiful is only natural. Still, the night sky in the North truly is the most beautiful. The stars are clearer and sharper than anywhere else in the empire.”
Emilia answered carefully.
“No, Your Majesty. I’ve always had the habit of watching the weather… If frost or snow seemed likely, I had to look after the crops and the livestock. I never noticed differences in the color of the sky.”
Clayden’s gaze narrowed.
Then he smiled faintly—this time with a touch of warmth in it.
And a slight, subtle thrill.
Noticing the change in his attitude, Emilia looked at him in confusion.
Clayden stood up and said firmly,
“Let’s go, Emilia.”
A corner of the imperial garden.
Water shooting up from the top of the fountain formed a small rainbow.
On the wide lawn, two peacocks wandered about, dragging their long blue-green tails that stretched nearly four steps behind them.
Clayden sat where the view was best and casually said to Emilia,
“Look at the color of the peacock’s tail feathers.”
“They look glossy. It seems the keeper takes good care of them, Your Majesty.”
Clayden barely managed to suppress a laugh at her reply.
A deep sense of pleasure welled up from the bottom of his chest—the satisfaction of having uncovered Emilia Valetta’s secret.
No ordinary woman, even one from the North, would have answered like that.
Nine out of ten women in the capital would have said something like, ‘How can that color be so beautiful!’ or ‘It would look lovely as a dress decoration.’
But a keeper?
Honestly speaking, her way of seeing things was about as refined as a mole’s.
More precisely, she was terrible at processing visual information.
That was a concise and elegant explanation for his current situation.
It perfectly explained why she hadn’t reacted to his smile or his bare body—why she had even ignored them—and how she could remain so calm.
Of course, Clayden had no intention of mocking her weakness. Some people couldn’t even tell red from green.
He was a broad-minded emperor. He was prepared to accept such a minor flaw.
While Clayden smiled at the peacocks approaching them, Emilia was looking at him.
Seeing that he seemed to be in a good mood, she felt relieved.
She also resolved that this time, she would make sure to call the attendant in charge of outdoor duties properly—remembering how awkward things had been at the training grounds.
Just then, Clayden turned to her with mild displeasure and said,
“My neck hurts.”
Startled, Emilia realized she had made him tilt his head to look at her. She plopped down onto the ground in surprise.
Meanwhile, Clayden reached out his hand to greet the peacocks that had come close. Truly, they were sacred creatures who recognized the supreme ruler.
But the peacocks waddled right over his knees, stepping on them as they passed. Their long tails took forever to slide across his legs.
Then they went straight to Emilia, pecking lightly at her hem or rubbing their necks against her shoulder. They clearly liked her.
“Oh dear, what should I do? I don’t have any food.”
Tickled, Emilia giggled softly and stroked the peacocks.
Clayden couldn’t believe that after being ignored by his maid, he was now being ignored by peacocks too.
The nerve of these freeloaders, eating and sleeping on my land!
While he glared at those shameless birds—each worth as much as a commoner’s house—a servant came running.
After the servant, summoned by the emperor, hurried away again, Emilia finally managed to gently push the peacocks aside and spoke.
“Your Majesty, I have something to say.”
Looking up at the capital’s much clearer and lighter sky, he replied,
“Want me to guess?
“The attendant in charge of the imperial garden—whose responsibility would that be? This isn’t a study. And it’s not the bedchamber, nor the training grounds.”
Hit right at the core, Emilia parted her lips, then said,
“Serving Your Majesty is a great honor, and many noble families’ children long for such a role. And each assignment has things one must know.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
Clayden cut her off.
“You’re my attendant. Is that really so hard to understand?
Emilia’s wide gray eyes trembled.
Seeing it up close immediately lifted Clayden’s mood.
Every rare chance he had to shake his maid like this made him happy.
She blushed and lowered her gaze.
“I’m sorry for not realizing sooner! I’ll report this to the chief steward!”
Clayden replied with a sly smile.
“I forgive you. Just this once.”
“Thank you!”
Only then did Emilia fully realize her mistake, goosebumps rising all over her.
The emperor disliked being accompanied by different attendants every time he moved.
And yet she had shown her confusion twice already, looking for the proper attendant.
How could she be so clueless?
She decided to report this to the chief steward so she could assist the emperor in the way he preferred.
It also carved into her heart the realization that what felt natural to her might not be so for the emperor.
From then on, she resolved to stay constantly alert and watch his expression carefully.
Meanwhile, seeing her flustered and lost in thought, Clayden felt his mood lighten even more.
The grass, the breeze, the clear sky, and the peaceful silence all began to feel soothing. It felt like his first real rest since entering the palace.
Then servants rushed in and spread a mat on the lawn. They arranged colorful desserts on it.
Emilia, who had been lightly tugged at by the peacocks, widened her eyes.
Slices of cake, fruit decorated with syrup, moist crackers topped with cheese—tiered trays filled with treats were laid out.
It looked like something that could lure away any child in the world.
Clayden ordered her,
“Eat.”
His gaze was fixed on a slice of cake.
To be told to eat food the emperor himself hadn’t touched was an absurd command.
Emilia’s face grew hot with embarrassment. But there was no room for negotiation in Clayden’s cold expression.
Oh!
With sudden understanding, Emilia quickly picked up a slice of cake and put it in her mouth.
The emperor must want a maid who could do anything without worrying about assigned duties.
Come to think of it, her father was the same.
He wanted Valetta’s soldiers to be able to search, pursue, and break through—fully versatile.
The soldiers found such training exhausting, but the Valetta forces had to remain an elite few, leaving no other choice.
And that was precisely what made the Valetta family the empire’s shield against monsters.
Realizing that the emperor wanted her to be an all-purpose attendant as well, Emilia felt her fighting spirit ignite.
During the study, she had to ensure his work proceeded without interruption.
At the training grounds, she must not be embarrassed by his bare body.
And when food appeared, she had to taste it first to check for poison.
With a solemn face, Emilia chewed the cake.
“Oh…!”
The strawberry-flavored cake was so sweet and delicious that a sound slipped out of her without thinking.
Startled, she quickly covered her mouth.
Her younger brother, Heris—who worked day and night to someday inherit the margrave’s position—would have loved this.
Holding back tears that threatened to rise from how good it tasted, Emilia tried to smooth her expression. She didn’t want to be misunderstood as indulging herself.
But Clayden was watching every subtle change in her expression from the corner of his eye.
Collapsing over a single piece of cake.
With a faint smile, he turned his face toward the fountain—so she could eat comfortably.
He recalled how precious sugar and salt had been in the North.
The margrave was a man who received little in return for his duty. Clayden believed it was only right that his descendants should enjoy some reward for their dedication.
From Emilia’s excited breathing, he could tell how much she was enjoying the cake.
Her attempt to look calm while clearly enjoying herself gave him a surprising amount of satisfaction.
Breathing a little hard from swallowing too quickly, Emilia said,
“Your Majesty, the cake is safe. You may eat it.”
But Clayden didn’t even turn around. He asked, slightly sharply,
“What about the fruit with tree-sap syrup? Look at those bright, delicate decorations. They’ve definitely passed through many hands.”
Ashamed of being distracted by the cake, Emilia ate the fruit one by one.
When the peacocks brought their beaks close to her mouth as she ate, she whispered softly,
“No, you can’t. This belongs to His Majesty.”
But Clayden answered silently,
Wrong, Emilia. That’s all yours. Your emperor dislikes sweets.
From the beginning, he hadn’t been worried about poison.
Today, he had discovered that visual stimuli were useless on Emilia.
So he wondered.
If her sight is dull, then what about taste? Human senses aren’t just one, Emilia Valetta.
