A week later, the Young Duke succession ceremony and a banquet to celebrate it were held.

Two ducal houses possessed such massive influence, wealth, and power they were called the empire’s right and left arms—and since the Duchy of Radelica had a joyous occasion, naturally rumors spread.

Despite the hastily sent invitations, everyone quickly sent back replies confirming their attendance.

Visitors came to Ashili’s office to congratulate her as well.

In the morning, Cardel, Lucia, and Kalein came. At lunch, the Duke and Duchess.

And in the afternoon, Evolaine visited.

“Congratulations, Young Duke.”

“Oh my, I didn’t expect the Dame to personally deliver a bouquet.”

Ashili joked as she received the bouquet from Evolaine.

A fresh floral scent wafted from the yellow freesias.

“This is my answer to the concerns you confided in me that day.”

The freesia’s meaning is ‘I support your new beginning.’

A precious flower imported from a distant region, since it doesn’t bloom in this season—past summer and nearly autumn now.

The reason for enduring such trouble was because of what she’d said that day.

“Dame… what do you think about women becoming leaders?”

She’d never thought about women becoming leaders before.

In the empire, leadership positions were mostly occupied by men, and even when women held them, as she’d said, they rarely lasted long.

“They say where there’s success there’s defeat, but when there are too many defeats, morale just plummets deep underground.”

“…”

“There’s an invisible wall for women in the empire. Even becoming a leader, you’ll face that wall eventually.”

Even if one reached a leadership position, there was no guarantee it would last long, so blood would spill even more.

To work in this position for a long time. To make one’s name known even more.

“Then… did you realize something from my words, Dame?”

“…Yes.”

The reason she wanted to become a leader—it must be because she wanted to eliminate discrimination against women and see a world where everyone could display their abilities regardless of gender.

“I want to see that world too. So I support you.”

May the day come when you can display your abilities and laugh happily without worry, just as you wish.

At Evolaine’s words, the tips of Ashili’s ears reddened.

The sincerity conveyed directly still tickled.

“Thank you, Dame. But you need to exercise some restraint.”

Trying to captivate others besides Cardel—there’s no one more bewitching.

“I understand…”

Without knowing what to restrain, Evolaine bowed with a sullen face and left the office.

Like a puppy whose perked-up ears had drooped.

Watching that retreating figure, Ashili burst into laughter—puhehe.

That evening, after the Young Duke succession ceremony ended, the banquet began in earnest.

Not only high nobility but even royalty attended, so Ashili’s political debut started splendidly from the beginning.

What stood out among them was none other than the Emperor.

When he, notorious for being hard to move, appeared at the ducal house’s celebration rather than an imperial-hosted banquet, people’s eyes and mouths moved busily.

“I greet the Sun of Vesasium. It’s an honor that you came personally.”

“Of course I had to come. When my close friend’s family has a joyous occasion, shouldn’t I visit even if I’m sick?”

At the Emperor’s joke, the Duke and those around him burst into laughter. However, the dark faces beneath their masks all rapidly moved their eyes, reassessing the situation.

The empire’s two ducal houses—Radelica and Arpi. Arpi tacitly supported the imperial family, but Radelica was different.

A representative noble faction and practically its leader—yet here they were chatting warmly with the Emperor, making it a scoop in itself.

‘I can’t read his intentions.’

The Emperor’s sudden display of friendliness was just as bewildering to the Duke.

They were friends, but not that intimate, and the Emperor was called the bloody ruler—cold and sometimes cruel.

‘Rather, the Emperor’s close friend is the Marquis of La Voletta…’

The Emperor’s longtime friend who’d reportedly stopped all activities due to illness.

Sensing awkwardness in the Duke’s smile, the Emperor handed him a champagne glass.

“Do you have time a bit later?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. As much as you need.”

“…I’ll send an attendant.”

The Emperor’s expression, which had been freely smiling at the banquet, hardened for a moment. Though fleeting, the Duke intuited he had something important to discuss.

May this rising anxiety be just imagination.

His throat felt parched today. Unusually so.

Shortly after, the Emperor sent an attendant as promised.

When the banquet was in full swing, the Duke seized a good moment and slipped away, excusing himself briefly.

“You summoned me, Your Majesty.”

“…Duke.”

The Emperor, organizing his thoughts while getting some night air, had returned to the form he knew.

A natural-born ruler difficult to approach, exuding a taciturn and cold atmosphere.

The Emperor, whose expression was poor as though troubled, let out deep sighs several times.

“I have a favor to ask.”

“What… favor?”

The Emperor paused briefly. He was deliberating even in the moment of speaking.

‘What on earth is he trying to say?’

Though he hadn’t heard the next words yet, his chest felt stuffy. Like a cork stopper tightly blocking a wine bottle’s mouth, he felt an obstruction inside himself.

“Later, if the situation becomes serious—then send Evolaine to the imperial palace.”

“What… do you mean by that?”

Send Evolaine to the imperial palace? For what reason?

“That child needs to know something. Though it’s not certain yet…”

Something Evolaine needs to know. That thing which, when the time comes, the Emperor will have no choice but to be certain of.

The Duke wanted to erase the bizarre hypothesis that momentarily surfaced in his mind.

No way. Really… no way.

“Your Majesty, what you’re thinking now…”

The Duke trailed off. Because the Emperor’s face looked sorrowful. Whether it was because of the moonlight or not, even if it was an illusion—

He couldn’t dare speak it aloud.

‘Has the Marquis’s health already deteriorated that much?’

Even if he couldn’t be certain, seeking Evolaine meant it was somehow related to the Marquis.

The Duke chose silence over asking. It was a heavy night where joy and sorrow coexisted.

* * *

Two weeks later, as planned, Cardel and Evolaine enrolled in Feint Academy.

The academy allowed choosing between dormitory or commuting, but most chose the dormitory.

However, Cardel and Evolaine chose to commute. The academy wasn’t suitable for the Kelic training they needed to do.

‘There are people to be wary of there, so commuting is much better.’

Especially Hesion of the Marquisate of La Voletta was already enrolled, and Verit would be entering this time.

Considering enrollment age, Cardel and Evolaine were late, but they were entering different grades.

Their major was swordsmanship. Recognized for their skill, they were entering as fourth-years.

Fortunately, the people to be cautious of weren’t in the swordsmanship department. That alone was sufficient consolation for Cardel.

“Young Master, preparations are complete.”

Evolaine, who’d checked the luggage loaded on the carriage, opened the door and reported.

“Driver, please depart.”

“Yes, young master.”

Once Evolaine boarded and the door closed, the carriage began rolling slowly.

The ducal household members who’d come to see them off, waving from the main gate, gradually grew distant.

“Will I be able to adapt well?”

“No reason you can’t. Everyone will go easy on you anyway, right?”

At the sharp response, Evolaine burst into laughter—pfft. Thanks to that, her tension eased a bit.

“Don’t sneak off anywhere and stick by my side. That’s why I arranged for us to be in the same department.”

“Understood.”

Her answer was absolutely first-rate. Why was she so brimming with confidence when she couldn’t even keep it?

Cardel fervently prayed that even if she caused trouble at the academy, she’d at least do it in front of him.

The academy’s panorama upon arrival was magnificent. The large building painted in beige with a slight yellow tint was massive enough to rival the Grand Temple.

The academy had eight buildings total. With nineteen departments total, most had 2-3 similar departments grouped and placed in the same building.

The department Evolaine and Cardel would attend was swordsmanship. Since it was a department with many auxiliary elements like training grounds and armories, it was located in the main building—the largest building and the academy’s center.

“…I expected an end building.”

A letdown. The main building was used by students from other departments too, so the chances of running into them were quite high.

Unlike Cardel, who pondered how to absolutely never meet the people of concern, Evolaine was looking around various parts of the building with sparkling eyes, seemingly fascinated.

“Young Master, look at this! The golden bull is huge!”

“…Right, as long as you’re happy, Dame.”

Cardel, who’d already reached enlightenment, smiled wanly.

He was just satisfied that Evolaine was sticking by his side instead of wandering elsewhere.

Throughout Feint Academy, golden bull statues of various sizes were installed everywhere.

Various speculations existed, but the most likely theory was that the headmaster loved bulls so much he’d plastered them throughout the academy.

‘Why not just change the name to Bull Academy while you’re at it?’

Well, even if he’d proposed it, the other professors probably opposed it.

Absolutely not that.

“Are you the children of the Duchy of Radelica?”

“We are.”

“You found your way well! Students get lost when they first come, so I came out to meet you—fortunately.”

A man wearing round glasses breathed a sigh of relief. Whether he’d rushed out, his long brown hair stuck out from his hair tie and his clothes were disheveled.