The imperial garden was originally created and maintained for the leisure and strolls of the royal family.
Naturally, it was hardly a suitable place to discuss state affairs with ministers or to make important policy decisions.
"Your Majesty, I beg your pardon, but discussing rewards for merit in a place like this is hardly appropriate…"
"It's improper, yes. But does it really matter?"
However, with a single remark from the emperor, who sat on the resplendent throne under the parasol with a languid expression, such concerns became trivial.
"Just look at your faces. You all look as pale as ghosts."
"..."
"That's because you shut yourselves away in that dreary palace without getting any sunlight. Sometimes, a day like this is necessary."
Of course, the reason the ministers gathered there looked pale was not due to a lack of sunlight. It was because, until just days ago, they had heard only rumors that the emperor was on the brink of death.
But in the empire, her words were law, and so, the high-ranking ministers—esteemed figures in their own right—had no choice but to stand in the garden's sunlight, pretending this was merely an outing while anxiously watching her every move.
"So, won't you raise your head now?"
"…Ha."
"The hero of the empire mustn't let himself grow pale and weak like these pitiful men."
With that, the emperor, in her usual even-toned voice, turned her gaze toward the man kneeling on one knee before her, his head bowed.
"Then, if you'll excuse me."
At her command, Whitney Lingard, the man being honored in this merit ceremony, slowly raised his head and smiled.
"…!?"
For a moment, an eerie silence settled over the garden.
"No, that man… How is he…"
"Ahem, hmm."
It wasn't just because Whitney's appearance seemed strangely unsettling for a so-called hero.
"So, you all think the same as well, do you?"
Because the emperor, who was watching Whitney with interest, had eyes that were—
"You look very much like me."
—thinly curved into slits, just like Whitney's own.
"Haha… That's too generous of you."
"It's not a compliment. This face of mine has caused me quite a few misunderstandings in the past."
The difference, of course, was that the emperor was practically the embodiment of the classic 'smiling villain.'
"To think there'd be someone who resembles Your Majesty this much…"
"S-Surely, he doesn't share Your Majesty's personality as well?"
"S-Still, he's a hero, isn't he? Haha."
To the ministers, however, both of them looked eerily alike, triggering the trauma buried deep in their hearts.
It was at that very moment—
"Sir Whitney. Come sit beside me."
The emperor, who had been studying Whitney closely, suddenly patted the seat beside her and spoke.
"Your Majesty, that seat is…"
"Whitney feels like a son to me."
Naturally, the seat right next to the emperor was reserved only for the consort or the crown prince. Having Whitney sit there was a breach of decorum.
"But…"
"We're in a garden, not the palace. So what does it matter?"
By this point, so many customs had already been broken that there was no real room for objection—aside from the anxious chamberlain, who seemed ready to protest but ultimately held his tongue when the emperor's slit-like eyes narrowed further.
"Then, as you command."
After scratching his head for a moment, Whitney stood up and took a seat beside the emperor, causing the ministers' faces to grow even paler.
"So, Sir Whitney. How does it feel to sit in such a forbidden seat?"
"Like I'm about to be arrested for treason. Haha."
The sight of the two sitting together, jesting, was enough to send shivers down the spines of everyone watching.
"Why? Sir Whitney, you could truly be my hidden son, you know?"
"Now that I think about it, that's a possibility, isn't it?"
"My, my. In that case, your place in the line of succession would be above the children of my deposed brother."
This was no longer a simple matter of physical resemblance.
"Mm, I'll politely decline. I know my place very well."
"Are you implying that there are those around me who don't know theirs?"
"Haha, I wonder?"
"Hoho. That's a phrase I use often. You really are like my son."
The two, eyes narrowed, exchanged loaded remarks, their mannerisms and personalities eerily alike.
'Somebody save me.'
Of course, Whitney, who had unwittingly ended up seated next to the emperor, was merely spouting whatever came to mind as his brain went blank.
Unfortunately, no one seemed to notice that truth.
"Any further than this."
"?"
"And I'll have to consider it an insult to my fiancé."
Just as Whitney's words were beginning to cross a dangerous threshold without him realizing, and as the ministers, feeling as if there were now two emperors, swallowed nervously, someone intervened to cut off their conversation.
"Meredia Embergreen. What do you mean, interrupting while I'm just bonding with my son?"
"There's a limit to how much nonsense one can tolerate, Your Majesty."
Despite Meredia standing boldly before her, the emperor merely responded with an indifferent expression. However, Meredia refused to back down, exuding a chilling presence as she continued.
"When my fiancé was born, weren't you only celebrating your tenth birthday, Your Majesty?"
"Hmm, that's true. But it's not impossible, is it? Love isn't about age."
"Frankly, it doesn't matter to me if Your Majesty makes tasteless and insulting jokes."
At those words, the emperor pouted as if sulking, but Meredia maintained her firm gaze and continued her warning.
"But if the person you're speaking of is my fiancé's father, a rightful member of House Embergreen, that changes the story. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Hmm."
"If you insist on continuing, I'll have no choice but to take it as an affront to me and my family, Your Majesty."
As her words trailed off, a heavy silence fell over the garden.
"Honestly, can't even make a joke anymore."
The emperor finally broke the silence, narrowing her slit-like eyes even further before turning back to Whitney with a smile.
"My apologies, Sir Whitney. The truth is, I've never had a single romantic encounter in my life."
"Your Majesty…!"
"And now I'm nearly thirty. What a tragedy for the empire."
The chamberlain standing beside her paled at the outright scandalous remark and attempted to stop her, but it was too late. She had already spoken, and now, adopting a falsely solemn expression, she turned to Whitney with an apology.
"Anyway, if my joke offended you, I offer my sincerest apology."
"Not at all. I've long been used to not having a mother."
"Oh dear. In that case, you should stay by my side. I've always wanted to try being a mother at least once."
Watching Whitney's reaction, the emperor gave him a smile eerily similar to his own before lowering her voice to whisper.
"If you don't like that, I could always make you my consort instead."
"Pardon? Haha…"
"I must say, I find you quite charming."
Luckily for the ministers behind them, their heads bowed, her whispered words were too quiet to hear.
But for Meredia, standing right in front of them, the words drifted perfectly into her ears.
"If Your Majesty wishes to make an enemy of House Embergreen, go right ahead."
Finally reaching the limit of her patience, Meredia's gemstone-like eyes gleamed as she delivered her final warning.
"Lady Meredia. That was really just a joke this time. I am a wise ruler, not some tyrant who covets another's man."
"..."
"But judging by your reaction, you must be quite fond of your fiancé."
The emperor, as if waiting for this moment, let out a hearty laugh and then tilted her head, posing a question to Meredia, who stood with a chillingly cold expression.
"I care only for my own dignity and my family's honor."
"Hmm."
"And I despise anyone laying a hand on something that benefits my family."
For a moment, the emperor's expression flickered, as if unimpressed by her answer. But soon, a smile returned to her lips.
"Still, I never expected Lady Meredia to remember a man's birthday…"
"Don't misunderstand. I simply memorize all the personal details of those connected to me."
"..."
"Unlike a certain someone who can't even remember the names of their own subordinates. Hoho."
At Meredia's response, the emperor chuckled to herself before straightening her posture and shifting the topic.
"Now then, it's time we get to the main point."
"...!"
"For a merit discussion, we've spent far too much time on idle chatter."
Thanks to that, the ministers—who had been sweating despite the warm sunlight—finally began to show some relief.
"Then, first…"
"Your Majesty!"
Suddenly, a panting voice interrupted as a knight clad in resplendent armor rushed into the gathering and knelt on one knee.
"My apologies, but I bring urgent news."
Normally, a fully armed knight stepping before the emperor and her ministers would be a punishable offense.
Yet, no one raised any objections.
After all, the only ones allowed to be armed within the imperial palace were the Imperial Guard, who operated under the emperor's direct command.
"It seems we'll have to postpone the merit discussion."
And at present, the Imperial Guard was tasked with investigating the 'Engagement Ceremony Attack'—the kidnapping of the imperial prince's fiancée.
"It must be some dramatic revelation regarding that horrific incident yesterday?"
"…Yes, Your Majesty."
"Then report it here and now."
The emperor, who had by now erased all traces of laughter from her face, coldly commanded the kneeling knight.
"The black mages captured at the scene had all fallen into comatose states due to the brands etched onto them, hindering our interrogation efforts, but…"
"Yes, that was the case."
"But we discovered one who did not fall into a coma and was instead waiting for a chance to escape."
At the knight's words, the gathered ministers erupted into murmurs.
"Silence. It's been half a day since the incident—why are we only securing this one now?"
"She used a foreign sorcery to feign death. Fortunately, our knights realized in time and forced her to remain alive."
With a single word, the emperor silenced the chaos, nodding in acknowledgment before giving a new order.
"Then, bring that black mage here immediately."
"Your Majesty?"
"The most knowledgeable person about black magic is seated right beside me, is he not?"
Saying so, the emperor turned to look at Whitney, her voice calm despite the fear growing on the ministers' faces.
"Isn't that right, Sir Whitney?"
"…Of course, Your Majesty."
Whitney, catching the faint upward curve of the emperor's lips, felt a flicker of suspicion. But before he could dwell on it,
"Walk straight, you bastard!"
"Ghh… You damn mongrels…"
The sound of knights cursing and heavy breathing approached from the distance.
"Your Majesty, this is the black mage in question."
"Ugh…!"
"She's been restrained with magic-suppressing shackles, so she won't be able to resist."
Though it had been mere moments since the emperor issued her command, the Imperial Guard had already returned with remarkable efficiency.
"It's been a while since I've seen a black mage up close."
"..."
"Sir Whitney, I plan to interrogate this one personally."
The emperor, observing the restrained figure with a grave expression, rose from her seat and turned to Whitney with a soft request.
"Would you mind assisting me?"
"Hah. I was wondering where you'd gone."
With a cold murmur, Whitney also stood.
"And here you are."
His gaze, sharp and predatory, sent a chill down the spines of those present as he walked toward the kneeling black mage, his slit-like smile eerily reminiscent of the emperor's.
"Do try to restrain yourself this time. Unlike last time, don't go smashing heads just because they practice black magic."
"Haha, I'll do my best."
To the onlookers, the two of them seemed perfectly in sync, like fish in water.
'No, this is insane.'
But for Whitney, who now found himself walking side by side with the emperor, his already blank mind felt even more devoid of thought.
"By the way, did you also leave that burn mark on her?"
"Haha…"
Because the woman now kneeling before them, shackled and half-covered in gruesome burns,
'I'm screwed.'
Was the very black mage—disguised as a maid—whom Whitney had faced when kidnapping Lady Hestia.