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Chapter 12
The woman in the mud-stained dress was led out of the room by a servant, and the Emperor kept the officer behind in her office.
Alessandro stood alone before the Empire’s great Sun, quietly reviewing recent events in his mind.
The encounter with the female pirate off the coast of Rosada. The amethyst necklace of Marquis de Armelia—meaning, the Emperor—hanging from that pirate’s neck. His return to the capital in time for the social season. Catching a woman who was about to fall from the bell tower.
That woman had called herself “Headboard,” then introduced herself as the daughter of Del Pont and suddenly demanded a hand-kiss.
Alessandro was confused, but he was not the type to show his emotions outwardly. Standing before the Emperor with a slight bow, he organized his thoughts. His rational mind quickly made sense of the situation.
“If she is the daughter of Lord Del Pont, then it is not strange even if she is a pirate on the sea. And if she is Lord Del Pont’s daughter, it is only natural that Her Majesty would favor her.”
Alessandro lifted his head. The Emperor was watching him with that familiar expression—gentle yet sharp. It seemed she had been waiting for him to finish thinking.
“It has been a while, Alessandro.”
“I am honored by your presence, Your Majesty.”
When he met her eyes carefully, the Emperor smiled.
“I was joking in front of that child earlier, but…”
Her pleasant voice echoed through the office.
“I truly am glad that you saved that child off the coast of Rosada.”
The Emperor, thinking of her “foal,” wore an unusually affectionate expression.
Alessandro had no immediate response. He lowered his gaze and gave a light bow instead.
“Your performance today was also commendable. Do you desire a reward?”
“I would not dare. I was only fulfilling my duty as Your Majesty’s soldier.”
The Emperor looked satisfied with his answer. If anyone else had spoken so obediently, she might have suspected ulterior motives, but Alessandro de Galiccion, second son of the Count of de Galiccion, was a man whose words and thoughts aligned perfectly. He was one of the types she preferred.
“Is that so? I would still like to repay you. What shall I do?”
“…As Your Majesty wills.”
“Good. Then let us do this.”
She summoned a servant and had a small piece of paper brought.
A feathered pen tip swayed elegantly with the Emperor’s movements as she wrote. After finishing, she signed it and pressed her seal.
“If there is something you wish to accomplish in the future, I will grant you one favor.”
“This is far too generous.”
But the Emperor did not listen.
She lightly waved the paper to let the ink dry, then handed it to Alessandro through a servant.
A wish voucher.
That was what was written on the small card. Alessandro’s stern expression relaxed, and he smiled faintly.
“It is good to see you smile. It reminds you of the old days, does it not?”
“I am honored, Your Majesty.”
“Give my regards to Hernando… no, your father. It is difficult to see him these days.”
The Emperor gestured lightly, signaling that he could leave.
Alessandro carefully placed the card inside his jacket and bowed deeply. Then he left the office with measured, backward steps.
Meanwhile, Rosana stood somewhat stiffly in front of the Emperor’s office. As a knight of the De Armelia Order, she had stood before Her Majesty during her knighting ceremony, but this was her first private audience.
As she was being pushed toward the inner palace by a servant, she remembered the look in her lady’s eyes—pleading for help. But the young lady needed to be properly disciplined by Lady de Vasquez.
And she will be scolded… but I will be the one failing my duty…
While she waited anxiously, a naval officer came out of the office. Rosana bowed lightly. He seemed to be the one who had safely brought the young lady back to the palace.
The officer glanced at her, gave a slight nod, and left.
Soon after, she was ushered inside.
“I greet the Sun of the Empire.”
“Mm.”
The Emperor stood before Rosana, reviewing documents. The room was silent except for a small ticking clock.
After a long pause, the Emperor finally spoke.
“Count Felix. Sorry to have kept you waiting.”
“It is nothing, Your Majesty.”
“Actually, I have a request.”
“Please command me.”
A request, not punishment. That alone was a relief.
“Would you teach Sasha swordsmanship?”
“Pardon?”
Rosana froze.
Teach that troublemaker swordsmanship? What kind of outcome are you expecting?
She hesitated.
“Keeping her physically active during the day might make her more docile.”
The Emperor added, slightly displeased.
Rosana quickly agreed.
“Ah… what insight, Your Majesty!”
“Also teach her other things you know. She has good physical ability. Even if she does not become a knight, she could become a fine asset.”
Rosana understood the assessment was correct. The girl had poor manners, but exceptional physical talent.
“Understood.”
As she turned to leave, the Emperor added:
“No horseback riding. I do not want cavalry units deployed across the empire.”
Rosana fully understood the intention.
“I shall obey.”
A few days later, Rosana took out her training clothes from storage.
It had not been long, yet it already felt like she was returning to an old life.
She changed into fitted trousers, tied up her brown hair, and returned to her familiar appearance.
She sent a message for Astrid to come to the back courtyard.
Unlike the front garden, the back courtyard was empty and open—perfect for training.
“Rosana!”
Astrid’s bright voice rang out.
“You look good in that outfit.”
“It is all thanks to you.”
“You really were a knight, not just a servant.”
“Now I am your sword instructor.”
“For the first lesson, let’s see your level.”
Rosana handed her a training dagger.
Astrid flipped it lightly in the air and caught it.
Rosana drew her sabre.
Meanwhile, Florian’s father had once again turned his attention to matchmaking.
Florian understood his own value in the marriage market.
When will he give up on this foolish dream?
He looked at his reflection in the carriage window.
Golden hair, violet eyes—beautiful beyond measure, yet he was still a man without freedom.
To most noblewomen, he was nothing more than a fleeting curiosity.
His father likely understood this too, which was why he targeted financially weakened noble families.
The Orteze trading house had information across the empire. They knew which nobles were struggling, who was defaulting on payments.
His father sometimes “hunted” using that knowledge.
But Florian saw the same emptiness in those women’s eyes as in his own—people being sold for their families.
And now his father intended to sell him to the very woman who had attacked their fleet and taken him hostage.
Del Pont.
Not an ancient noble house, but a famous one—still workable.
Florian stepped out of the carriage.
Behind him, servants were unloading luggage.
He looked up at the massive gate.
On top of the iron pillars, siren statues looked down at him.
Somehow, Florian felt as if even those statues were mocking him.
This was the second time he had come to the Del Pont estate.
