He made a deliberate show of shuddering. Of course the woman was breathtakingly beautiful, but that was all. A decorative bird was something to admire at a proper distance, not a pet to keep and cherish.

Baptiste lowered his head toward the floor without meaning to. All that coming from the very mouth that had been chattering away.

“Only, as I said before, I believe it is right for Your Majesty’s marriage to be made strategically. Please make a strategic choice.”

“Strategic.”

An emotion ill-suited to that settled sky lingered there.

“Do you believe strategy is necessary even in choosing the person who will stand at my side?”

“Was that not how Sienne was chosen?”

“Baptiste.”

“Duchess Blumir was the same.”

Of course, two people chosen by different ‘strategies’ respectively. Baptiste, leaning his body against the study desk with both hands, looked almost resolute.

“Your Majesty is human, and so you wish to build a family and feel the comfort of that shelter. I likely know that better than even the imperial princess.”

Having been a late child, Cassian had not had much time with his parents. Perhaps in the past, he had felt that same common ground with Duchess Blumir and given her deeper affection for it.

In any case, within Cassian’s inner world, there was an obsessive fantasy about a perfect family that he rarely showed to anyone.

“But you discarded Duchess Blumir all the same.”

Even shattering that fantasy. And then, furious at the one who had ruined things, he had willingly used his own fantasy as a tool of revenge.

At the words being emphasized once more, Cassian’s eyebrow twitched. At any other time, Baptiste would have read Cassian’s heart and taken a step back, but right now he was pressing forward.

“So it should not be a difficult thing this time either. It must not be.”

“It is not difficult.”

A bitter smile settled heavily over that gentle face.

“But it is always something that weighs on me.”

“Even if you regret it, it cannot be undone. No one can hold back time that has passed.”

“The me of that time.”

Cassian was generally a good listener, but Baptiste was special even so. Those who gave the Emperor unrestrained counsel were rare.

Baptiste was almost never wrong. There were times when their opinions clashed and they came into conflict, but he offered views worth hearing out and considering.

Right now, however, that ‘counsel’ grated on Cassian’s nerves in a peculiar way.

“Do you truly think I wanted to discard Duchess Blumir?”

“Of course not. I know well what kind of person Your Majesty is. But in the end, you made the judgment.”

Baptiste’s answer was utterly cold.

“At that moment, Your Majesty had already made the choice. Whether to live as an Emperor, or as a man.”

The irrefutable words followed. In the end, the single truth that remained at Cassian’s side was that.

Cassian had chosen. To live as Emperor.

Even at the cost of abandoning the one love that had been singular in his life.

Even if she was someone he would never obtain again in his lifetime, she could not be considered heavier than this country resting on his shoulders.

And so now, belatedly desiring human wants and ordinary happiness was something he had no right to. That was what Baptiste was saying.

But there was one thing everyone missed. Cassian himself had never earnestly wanted this seat. It had been everyone around Cassian Pendragon who had wanted it.

“I am a person who serves Cassian Pendragon as Emperor. So if Your Majesty is about to make another strange choice, is it not only natural that I would stake my life to stop it?”

Even thinking about it coldly, Cassian knew it was not a rational choice. It was not a judgment that offered the Emperor any advantage.

Only one desire moved his heart. He simply did not want to let her go.

“You have the precedent of having chosen Madame Sienne in the past. And that ended in the worst possible conclusion, divorce.”

“I am grateful for the astute observation, but.”

The voice that settled quietly was utterly cold.

“In the end, the message is that I should desire nothing more…… am I misreading it if I take it that way?”

Cassian glanced around him. The darkened study was piled high with documents awaiting attention.

“If that is the price of sitting in this seat, of course I should endure it.”

“Your Majesty, you haven’t forgotten, have you? We are people who swore to live only for Sehera.”

“It is a vow I have not forgotten for a single moment. There has not been a time until now when I did not live for Sehera. Of course, that will continue to be the case.”

A rare bitterness pressed through Cassian’s lips.

“Even at the cost of sacrificing the person who sits at my side.”

“……The one you divorced was also merely of noble birth, which is quite a significant problem.”

Baptiste, pushing back, let out a genuine sigh. He had lost count of how many times he had said the same thing.

“You know better than anyone that doing the same again cannot be a good look. If Mademoiselle Laure were at least nominally of royal blood, I would not need to say any of this.”

And then he added words he did not strictly need to say.

“If it had been Duchess Blumir, it might have been possible to somehow launder her time as Madame Marguerite and seat her at your side.”

“Do not bring up Valentine.”

A warning not to dig up a painful past.

In truth, both of them knew that ‘laundering’ was impossible. It was not for any other reason. Because the greatest justification of this revolution would crumble because of Madame Marguerite alone.

“It need not be me.”

Baptiste offered his counsel in a somewhat gentler voice.

“If Your Majesty truly cherishes Mademoiselle Laure, send her to someone Your Majesty trusts and take her that way. Everyone will treat her like a jewel, and if a child comes, they will raise it willingly.”

“……”

The mention of a child brought a sudden chill.

Like that most heartbreaking thing from the past, unable to rejoice purely, saddling the child yet to be born with the label of bastard. Unlike Bastian, who was casually addressed as prince.

Thinking about it now, placing Amaryllis at his side had perhaps been a true mistake. A strange choice made when his twisted heart had driven him out of his mind.

At the time he had thought it was the best course. He had not known that a new person would grow larger and larger in his heart. He had been certain he would live loving only Valentine, one person alone, as he had vowed before God.

“I understand well what you mean.”

It would be a circular conversation with Baptiste, who would never yield. Cassian ended the discussion there and composed his emotions with practiced ease.

He turned his gaze and changed the subject.

“I should have the horse well fed. Failing to take the lead would be its own problem.”

“I will prepare the finest thoroughbred. It has been a while since I’ve seen Your Majesty on horseback.”

“Also, Baptiste.”

“Yes.”

“It is unavoidable to become harsh toward those who do not serve Sehera’s interests.”

Cassian picked up a document from the desk. With a flutter, the paper fell limply to the floor. The black letters printed on it faded.

“Even if that person is a friend with whom one has shared a long friendship.”

“Of course. Those who eat away at Sehera have no right to even ask for forgiveness.”

Baptiste answered readily. Maximilian had spoken of a wager, but the first head to roll would most likely be his.

“Even Duke Liam was not forgiven. Who else could be?”

“The severity of the offense was far greater on Duke Blumir’s side.”

There were probably few people who could cause a greater disaster than that. Cassian gave a single nod.

“No matter. You may go.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Have a peaceful night.”

Baptiste gave a bow and stepped back. A thud, and the sound of the door closing reached him before long.

The moment Baptiste disappeared, Cassian buried his face in both hands.

Proposal, strategic choice, a discarded person, a child. The brief conversation echoed chaotically in his mind. Baptiste’s rational dissuasion did not enter his ears at all.

He only pictured her, standing beside Baptiste with a smiling face, as a bride. Pure white blessings, the sound of bells proclaiming eternity, scattered faintly beneath an open sky. Over it, the figures of Astaire and Valentine overlapped.

It had been a planned thing, but the defeat and loss he had felt at the time had been real, and he had no desire to feel it again.

At the end of that imagining, the hand he had clenched struck the desk with all its force. Bang! Thunder filled the study. The documents piled high on the desk floated up into the air. Drops of blood fell one by one from his wrist.