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chapter 71
“I saw with my own eyes how passionate you two were — and so did all of society! You even went on a trip together, and now you’re telling me you’re breaking off the engagement? Ridiculous!”
“……”
“I know young people these days treat chastity more lightly, but you should be different! You’re the Empire’s only Grand Duke — the Emperor’s own brother! You have a duty to take responsibility for a relationship that burned so brightly!”
Christopher’s voice thundered through the room. Out of breath from shouting, he heaved heavily, his chest rising and falling.
Once his breathing steadied, Elion spoke calmly and respectfully.
“This is my way of taking proper responsibility for that past relationship, brother. Once, it burned hot — but not anymore. To continue something that has already ended would only make a mockery of what once was.”
“Don’t talk nonsense!”
Christopher slammed his fist down on the armrest with a loud crack. His hand trembled from how tightly he was clenching it — he had let his temper get the better of him.
He drew in several deep breaths, forcing his anger to cool before he spoke again.
“Fine. Then you’ll meet someone new.”
“I’m afraid I can’t, brother.”
“What did you say?”
Elion’s firm refusal made Christopher’s face flush even redder.
But Elion, calm as ever, continued in that same even tone.
“The news of my engagement to Lady Payson has already spread throughout the social circles. Soon, gossip about the breakup will stir everything up again. In such a climate, how could I immediately go to another arranged meeting?”
“……”
“Please also consider the young lady who’d be dragged into it unwillingly. Think of her heart, brother — forced to appear at such a meeting and have her name tossed about by the same gossiping tongues. Spare her that humiliation.”
Christopher opened his mouth to argue but found no words.
Because — damn it — Elion’s words made sense.
With a long, frustrated groan, Christopher finally barked out:
“It’s an imperial order!”
“……”
“It’s the Emperor’s command, Elion! You will obey — and so will every young lady summoned, even through tears! That’s final. You may go.”
He turned away sharply, deciding that this was the moment to make it clear he would not yield further.
But Elion didn’t move. He remained standing where he was, silent, waiting patiently until Christopher finally looked his way again.
When the Emperor’s gaze met his, Elion bowed slightly.
“I’m always grateful, Your Majesty, that you continue to look after me in memory of the late Empress.”
It was the first time Elion himself had ever mentioned the late Empress.
Christopher’s eyes wavered — as did his heart.
“I will never forget your grace, brother. Therefore, let us postpone the meeting until next year.”
“Next year?”
“Yes. Once all the talk about Lady Payson’s engagement and our separation has died down, I’ll agree to the meeting then.”
“Just meeting won’t be enough. You’ll have to get engaged — and married.”
“Of course, brother. I’ll follow your will.”
“……”
Christopher studied him closely. The steadiness in Elion’s eyes and the firmness of his tone left no room for doubt — the man was utterly sincere.
So be it, Christopher thought. Next year it is, then.
He hadn’t expected things to go smoothly anyway.
Pushing too hard might have ruined everything, and Christopher knew better than to risk that. For now, a tactical retreat would have to do.
He let out a long sigh and nodded.
“Very well. I’ll make preparations for next year’s introduction. See that you return to the capital in time for the social season.”
“I understand, Your Majesty.”
As Elion left the audience chamber, Christopher’s gaze lingered quietly on his retreating back. The storm of anger in him had already subsided — ever since Elion had mentioned the late Empress.
I used to invoke Mother as my weapon, Christopher thought. But this time… he took that weapon from me. Could it be… deliberate?
He let out a soft, hollow laugh.
“He got me good.”
Elion’s next destination after leaving the audience chamber was the Empress’s parlor.
“I greet Her Majesty the Empress and His Highness the Crown Prince.”
Empress Miranda and Crown Prince Phyllis both rose to greet him.
“Welcome, Your Grace,” Miranda said with a smile.
“How have you been, Uncle?” Phyllis added warmly.
“I’ve been busy preparing to depart for the north. You must be equally occupied, Your Highness, preparing for your journey south.”
“Thanks to Duke Miren and the other ministers’ assistance, preparations are going fairly smoothly.”
As the two men spoke, Miranda quietly set down her teacup. A faint smile curved her crimson lips — sharp as a knife’s edge.
“I heard the news,” she said. “The House of Payson has sent an official letter of annulment, haven’t they?”
“Yes,” Elion answered evenly. “Regrettably, that’s how it turned out. It’s due to my own shortcomings.”
Miranda’s smile vanished, replaced by a look of disbelief.
“How modest of you. But how could the Grand Duke be lacking? Surely it’s the fault of the Paysons, for failing to recognize your worth.”
Elion’s dark brows twitched upward.
Hearing her speak the name Payson filled him with disgust.
That same voice — those same lips — had once given the order to attack Rubiana. The thought made his blood boil.
He bit back any reply, keeping his composure through silence.
Fortunately, Phyllis smoothly changed the subject.
“Uncle, have you ever overseen relief in a region afflicted by plague? If so, I’d appreciate your advice.”
Elion obliged, offering a few concise but valuable words of guidance for his nephew’s first major mission.
Dealing with the imperial family was, as always, exhausting.
Though Elion’s face remained calm and poised in front of them, his steps grew heavy as he left the palace corridors.
As he rounded a corner—
“Elion!”
The voice stopped him cold.
It was Saint Florencia.
Elion’s brow furrowed — she was the last person he wanted to see.
Sensing his displeasure, Florencia quickly stepped forward and seized his arm before he could leave.
“I was waiting for you. Please, talk to me, Elion.”
Her golden eyes glimmered, wet with emotion — pleading.
But Elion’s reaction was as cold as winter stone.
He yanked his arm free, his voice cutting sharp.
“I’m quite busy, Saint. I really must go. And I suggest you refrain from grabbing a man’s arm in public — it does no favors to your reputation.”
He glanced around meaningfully. They weren’t alone; several passersby in the hall had already turned to stare.
But Florencia didn’t care. Tightening her grip on his sleeve, she raised her voice.
“If you’re worried about my reputation, then talk to me! Because right now, I couldn’t care less about being a ‘holy saint.’ I honestly don’t know what I might do!”
“……”
There was a flicker of madness in her eyes, making Elion’s frown deepen.
When even that didn’t move him, Florencia’s eyes filled with tears.
“You’re leaving for the north soon, aren’t you? And I’ll be leaving for the south tomorrow. This might be the last chance we have to see each other for a while. Can’t you give me just a little of your time?”
“……Fine.”
They moved to the rose garden beside the corridor.
“Speak quickly,” Elion said curtly. “I don’t have much time.”
His sharp tone made Florencia flinch.
In nearly twenty years of knowing him, he had never spoken to her so coldly.
Why… all of a sudden? she wondered.
And then the unease set in.
Could he… know about the drug? Is that why…?
The last time they met, she had secretly slipped him a potion — one that would destabilize his mana.
She’d expected him to come to her once it took effect. But he never did.
When she later heard rumors that he’d traveled with Rubiana Payson, her fury had been blinding.
If he took the drug, his mana must have become unstable… somehow he must have treated it — maybe he even found out about the potion… No, no, that can’t be.
Florencia shook off the creeping dread.
Looking up at him, pale-faced, she whispered,
“Are you… angry with me?”
Elion’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked down at her.
