Izer was in the process of regaining lost things one by one. He thought he had obtained everything he wanted by keeping Celian by his side. She had voluntarily chosen to remain by Izer’s side, and Izer trembled with emotion every time Celian came into his arms. Her existence was Izer’s only pleasure and happiness.

However, when he looked at her sleeping face, his expression sank again, making the smile he showed in front of Celian meaningless.

It wasn’t because his feelings for her were small. It was just a sense of debt stemming from the thought that the joy Celian enjoyed was too insufficient compared to his happiness. I’m this happy thanks to you, but are you really the same? — something like that.

His anxiety manifested as material devotion. With the momentum of offering all the jewels and dresses that existed in the world, he swept through jewelry stores and called in tailors.

For his wife who was troubled about having no place to put things, he ordered unused rooms to be organized and decorated as dressing rooms — the ducal residence had very many rooms anyway — and in half a year, three rooms had found their purpose this way.

Every time he realized that his wife’s increasingly frequent outings, her necklaces and dresses were all things he had bought for her, he trembled with ecstasy again.

Sometimes his wife would deliberately appear before him wearing nothing but jewelry on her n*ked body. Making his efforts to restrain himself worthless, every time that happened, his reason that had flown away was soon gripping her b*ttocks and breathing heavily.

All such things were happiness.

Izer Chesterfield’s happiness.

‘Why is Celian still……’

The carriage slowed down. As he opened the door and got out, his eyes caught the huge tree located in one corner of the ducal residence garden. The position of the ladder leaning against it was subtly different from this morning.

He thought of her favorite activities one by one. Tree climbing, listening to bird songs, embroidering. Moving to the realm of objects, there were Percy’s poorly drawn pictures, Bess’s increasingly improving handwriting, and the cross necklace that appeared once in a while when he was about to forget it.

She could do her favorite activities anytime and had all her favorite things. He was angry at himself for having nothing more he could do for her.

Even the air drifting over the grass was humid. It seemed it would rain tonight too. It was when Izer had crossed the garden with somewhat sensitive steps and arrived at the front door.

The door burst open.

“Izer!”

His wife, backlit by bright light, ran over in one breath and threw herself into his arms. He hurriedly put down his cane and his freed hand embraced his wife.

Celian, who had buried her head deeply in his jacket, chattered happily.

“I forgot you were going to the royal palace. I was wondering why you weren’t coming all afternoon. Did your talk with His Highness the Prince end well? It’s late, did you eat? I hope the next ruler isn’t evil enough to not even feed a meal to someone who isn’t even a formal official before grinding them down.”

It wasn’t common for him to be away from home all day. Izer, wearing a comfortable smile, stroked the hair of his wife who was tightly embracing his waist.

“I was going to tell you once more in the morning but you were sleeping so soundly I just left. I had dinner with His Highness too. The royal palace is in complete chaos because the Fairville delegation is scheduled to come in two weeks.”

“The city is the same. I went out with Percy for lunch.”

A unique subtle fragrance came from her hair. Celian firmly grabbed his hand and led him to the second floor, to Izer’s dressing room. Izer’s dressing room, which had originally been in their bedroom, was pushed to the next room when Izer bought loads of clothes for Celian.

“Izer, when the delegation comes, you’ll have to show your face too, right?”

“I’ll have to. His Majesty hoped you would also come and raise Treven’s spirit, what do you think?”

“Tell him I absolutely hate it. I’m sick of Fairville.”

“I thought so. I’ll say you refused.”

The two countries, Treven and Fairville, found an appropriate balance point with Fairville returning all the legitimate rights they had taken.

However, the old grudges left by the long war weren’t simply resolved, so there were subtle nerve wars between the delegation and the dignitaries of the host country.

The best people to suppress the Fairville delegation’s spirit were the meritorious subjects who had contributed to suppressing Ferbien Letters’ rebellion.

Even James III had hinted that he wanted to invite Celian to the banquet more than Izer. But since Celian absolutely hated it, the king’s wish would not be realized.

Celian began unbuttoning his vest. What was merely time for her to help her husband change clothes was torture for Izer. Not that he had any intention of refusing her touch, so he tried to turn his attention elsewhere, but Celian chattered in an utterly lovely voice.

“I took a nap today. The new tea leaves, you bought them, right? They smelled good.”

“Who said I bought them?”

“All the maids knew.”

“They said unnecessary things.”

“You like it but pretend you don’t. I really mean the tea is good. I slept for two straight hours without even dreaming. What that means is, I’m very energetic right now.”

The hand that had been undoing his vest slyly grabbed his shirt collar. Izer, who had been only looking at the closed wardrobe door, gave a hollow laugh and kissed his wife. As if she had been waiting, the woman pressed her body close while caressing his firm chest.

Izer reached out and closed the dressing room door. As long as she could be happy, he could willingly offer himself.

***

Two weeks later.

Carriages painted in red and gold stopped in a line right in front of Treven’s royal castle. Around the royal carriages that had gone to the train station to personally bring the delegation, guards in red clothes also stood watch. Armed with formal musket guns and wearing black hats that had absolutely no practical use, they were on high alert for the one-in-ten-thousand chance that citizens might try to assassinate the Fairville delegation.

Citizens who didn’t want to cause unnecessary misunderstandings watched the long procession from a certain distance. If they were lucky, they might be able to see the famous garden from afar when the palace gates opened.

According to the eighth cousin of someone who worked at the royal palace, the garden stretching from the main gate to the building where His Majesty the King resided was said to be 1,000 yards long. That long garden formed perfect left-right symmetry, and the grass was cut more neatly than the stepping stones where the carriages had stopped.

Not only that, any impudent grass that dared to obstruct the path where His Majesty the King’s guests walked was plucked by the hands of palace servants as soon as it was seen, and whether it was tough leaves, new leaves, flowers, or fruit, they showed no mercy.

After being intimidated once by His Majesty the King’s greatness in perfectly suppressing nature, the interior that was said to appear and make one want to kneel before God was also a subject of citizens’ interest.

Rumors about the interior were a bit more realistic than those about the garden. The front building had full glass windows facing south. The time to marvel at the glass windows, 3 yards wide and 8 yards high, fitted between the minimal marble columns was very short.

Guests who set foot inside the palace soon opened their mouths before the religious paintings filling the ceiling and walls. After guests who were speechless before the long religious paintings depicting the process of God bestowing a crown upon Treven’s monarch who defeated demons quietly passed through the corridor, only then did they earn the qualification to be guided to meeting rooms, lodgings, dining halls, or other places where they could breathe.

This initiation that would excessively intimidate strangers failed to evoke any emotion in those who frequented the place. Izer walked looking ahead without even glancing at the religious paintings. The attendant guiding him spoke in an excited tone.

“Your Grace, this banquet has been filled with precious foods that only come from Treven. It will completely crush the spirits of those Fairville bastards.”

“His Majesty makes harsh decisions in times of peace.”

“Competition is competition, isn’t it.”

The attendant, three or four years older than Izer, answered and announced his visit inside. Soon Izer entered. Edmond, who had been fastening a heavy belt around his waist with the attendant’s help, met his eyes through the mirror.

“Sorry to meet you looking like this. I haven’t finished getting dressed yet.”

“Did you hear that the delegation has arrived? When I came, it seemed they had all already been guided into the palace.”

“I heard. I told them to rest from their journey until the banquet. The days have gotten much longer…… now I can finally say it’s getting dark.”

Blue-black darkness had settled over the sky that had been red when he arrived outside the royal palace. Izer stood motionless and stared at the process of red and blue meeting to become tinged with purple.

He was dressed in a black tailcoat today. Medals from his officer days hung on his neatly buttoned jacket.

Edmond, who glanced at him, showed a regretful expression. The bright red uniform suited his blond hair quite well.

“Your wife really isn’t planning to come.”

“My wife doesn’t like noisy places. If she comes to the banquet hall, she’d have to dance too.”

The moment he spoke, Izer realized he had said something very wrong. The lie that Celian hated noisy places wouldn’t be believable at all. Izer corrected himself before Edmond could object.