Chapter 13

Once she arrived at the emperor’s rose garden, Dianne fully understood what the countess had meant. She was clearly not the only one hoping to “accidentally” run into the emperor during one of his strolls.

After presenting her credentials to the guards and being allowed entry, she found herself repeatedly locking eyes with others wandering aimlessly through the garden with barely concealed hope written on their faces. Some of them were distinguished noblemen, others were young ladies dressed with the utmost care and elegance.

‘Well, he is unmarried, after all…’

Emperor Rezion had turned twenty-six this year. For a reigning monarch, it was uncommon and almost unheard of, to reach that age without marrying. He had no acknowledged illegitimate children, no high-ranking mistresses flaunting power, no official consort at all.

At least on the surface, he was the continent’s most eligible bachelor. And judging by the crowd here, every ambitious young lady had taken notice. Dianne could have bet her entire fortune that she was the only woman in this garden without ulterior motives.

The problem was that, judging by how the noble ladies had practically lit their eyes on fire searching for him, the emperor clearly knew they were here, yet not even his shadow had appeared.

Eventually, the bell struck six, and Dianne left the rose garden feeling tired and deflated. She had nothing to show for her efforts but an exhausting tour of the roses so desperately tended by the imperial palace’s gardeners.

That was, until a familiar voice stopped her at one of the few garden exits.

“Are you trying to give me advice about my own sister, Duke?”

The voice came from beyond a tall rose hedge. It was unmistakably the emperor’s. But it wasn’t the voice he had used when speaking to Dianne. This one was low, cutting, and sharp with restrained fury.

It wasn’t even directed at her, and still, Dianne felt like was going to break out in a cold sweat. Now she could easily imagine a version of the emperor with a face as cold as the princess’.

But the emperor’s conversation partner didn’t sound the least bit intimidated. His voice, though outwardly courteous, carried a boldness that bordered on presumptuous.

“I wouldn’t dare, Your Majesty. I only meant to inform you that there are whispers going around the palace about the princess’s seclusion. If a representative from Arathos catches wind of these rumors, it’ll only be a matter of time before the crown prince hears of it.”

“…”

“If ‘that matter’ leaks outside the palace, the Emperor of Arathos will absolutely refuse to accept Her Highness.”

The emperor’s response wasn’t audible. Dianne took a cautious step forward, following the sound.

Eavesdropping was wrong, of course, but she couldn’t ignore hearing the names “princess” and “Arathos” spoken together. Maybe she could learn the reason behind the princess’ refusal to marry without even having to ask the emperor directly.

But before she could take a third step, a loud snap came from beneath her foot as a twig cracked under her heel. Dianne squeezed her eyes shut.

Both the emperor and his companion turned to look directly at her.

So he had been attending to state affairs, after all. Unlike at the library, the emperor was now dressed in full formal attire. Though, notably, the cravat at his throat had been loosened, and through the slightly open buttons of his shirt, the sculpted lines of his chest were slightly visible.

Dianne’s gaze was drawn there against her will, but she forced herself to turn to the man standing beside him. The “duke.”

If not for the word “duke,” Dianne might’ve thought him just a typical middle-aged man. He was tall enough, yes, but the slight roundness of his belly carried the weight of too many years of luxury.

The duke gave her a cursory glance before speaking with unmistakable displeasure.

“Who is that?”

It was shockingly rude. Dianne found herself staring at him, too stunned to even offer a proper greeting.

A gentleman always speaks politely to a lady. Even little six-year-old Erin knew that. The emperor certainly did too. But it seemed this so-called duke either didn’t, or worse. He did and chose to be insulting anyway.

But Dianne didn’t get a chance to reply. The emperor stepped between them, blocking the duke’s path.

“That’s enough. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear a word you said.”

“But, Your Majesty—”

The emperor’s expression turned to stone, and whatever the duke had been about to say died in his throat. He bowed stiffly to the emperor, then turned and stalked off toward the garden exit without so much as a nod or even a glance at Dianne.

Only then did Dianne remember to bow.

“It’s an honor to see you again, Your Majesty.”

“It’s been a while. It seems I’ve allowed you to be treated unpleasantly.”

He was clearly referring to the duke’s behavior, but Dianne feigned ignorance with practiced decorum.

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but I’m not sure I follow.”

“…Very well. You may raise your head.”

Dianne kept her gaze lowered out of habit, only to quickly look up again. This was the man who had told her himself he preferred eye-contact when speaking to someone.

Up close, the emperor looked tired. He rubbed his face with one hand, letting out a low sigh before lowering it again.

The cold mask he’d worn when dealing with the duke was gone now, replaced by the warm expression Dianne remembered. But now she understood something she hadn’t before.

The realization struck her harder than expected.

‘That face was for show.’

It felt strangely awkward to think that the emperor, a man so far above her, would make an effort to control his expression around someone like her. Still, he was a gentleman to his core. Perhaps, to him, it was simply unseemly to show any trace of anger in front of a lady.

With gentle courtesy, he asked, “How much did you hear?”

There was no point denying it. She had been eavesdropping, after all. Dianne lowered her head again.

“I apologize.”

“So it was Countess Ornin who told you I’d be here.”

“Please don’t blame Lady Ornin, Your Majesty. I was the one who insisted. I absolutely had to see you.”

“It seems word has already spread that I frequent this garden. There’s no reason to scold the countess.”

Dianne couldn’t help but smile a little as she thought of the young ladies she’d passed in the rose garden.

“There were quite a few lovely ladies strolling about, each one ready to drop her handkerchief at just the right moment.”

The emperor looked sheepish. His ears even seemed to turn the faintest shade of red.

It was probably inappropriate, undoubtedly so, but Dianne found him a little adorable like this.

‘If it had been Sir Reussen, I might’ve teased him a bit.’

But this was the emperor, not some old acquaintance. And while he’d shown her surprising leniency thus far, Dianne wasn’t nearly bold enough to joke with him. She bit back the joke that had risen to her throat and got straight to the point.

“I saw Her Highness a few days ago. At the hunting grounds.”

“…I heard.”

“There’s something I’d like to ask. May I trouble you for a moment of your time?”

The emperor’s carefully schooled expression betrayed nothing. Without answering, he turned and began walking toward the garden exit. Dianne hurried to follow him.

“Your Majesty?”

“This isn’t the place for conversation. Come.”

She followed obediently. The guards at the exit saluted them with crisp, formal precision.

From behind, Dianne could feel the stares of the young ladies who had been “strolling” through the garden. Their eyes went to the emperor first, and then, almost immediately, swept over Dianne from head to toe, sizing her up.

She recognized what she saw in their eyes. Curiosity, caution, and a subtle, unmistakable disdain.

It was the first time since arriving at the Imperial Palace that Dianne truly became aware of what she was wearing. Her dress was modest and unadorned, which was nothing close to the extravagance of the others. She couldn’t even begin to compete.

‘Is that why the duke treated me so disrespectfully?’

Maybe he’d taken one look at her attire and decided she wasn’t even worthy of being considered a lady. The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth, but there was nothing to be done about it. The emperor didn’t seem to care what she wore, at least.