It was an unusually sunny day.

“I will abdicate and pass the throne to the Crown Prince next spring.”

For an emperor to declare his intention to abdicate, when neither illness nor political turmoil demanded it, was extraordinary.

The emperor was not suffering from any chronic disease. Nor was there any crisis within the imperial family that would force such a decision. After all, the decaying roots of the imperial household had been completely severed six years ago with Melish’s death.

Though some scars remained, the Emperor had rectified past wrongs and consolidated his power even further. He had strengthened the influence of the emerging young faction led by Marquise of Blante, and reformed the outdated laws and norms that had long plagued the empire.

Now, the Pentium Empire was enjoying an era of unprecedented peace.

Seeing only stability and prosperity, the people praised the emperor as a saint — as if he had not spilled blood to seize the throne.

And yet, at the peak of his reign, when imperial power was stronger than ever, he chose to step down.

Thanks to his title of Holy King, his one lingering weakness — his questionable legitimacy — had long since faded from public memory.

The nobles couldn’t understand.

And so, for this one matter, they set aside all political rivalries and stood united.

“Please reconsider, Your Majesty.”

But the emperor’s will remained unshakable.

“Over the past six years, I have made many changes, I have swept away the old and outdated, bringing in a new generation of talent to lead this empire into a new era. This conference hall, which was once filled with stubborn old men clinging to the past, is now filled with fresh faces brimming with energy.”

The emperor’s gaze swept across the room, lingering on the young officials standing before him. They were not inexperienced; they were simply younger than the men who had previously monopolised these seats. Their eyes gleamed with hope for the future.

“I could have clung to my position, but instead, I chose to think of the empire’s future – the world that you will inherit and live in. That is why I am standing here today, to witness this moment alongside my people.”

His voice faltered for a moment.

“Ultimately, I am the only one left to witness the world we once dreamed of coming to life.”

Both Arnold and his loyal servant, the Marquise de Blante, had died. In a sense, their deaths were tied to his, too.

Nevertheless, he whispered to himself, ‘I miss you both. If you were here to see this with me, I know you would be pleased.’

“Your Majesty, please reconsider… please take back the order.”

Urgent voices filled the conference hall, echoing anxiously. The Emperor, who had briefly shown a hint of emotion, now allowed his expression to darken once more. He raised his hand to signal for silence, and the nobles immediately fell quiet.

“I am not the emperor you need, I am too old to lead the reforms this empire requires.”

Of course, no one in the room believed him. On the contrary, they had seen the emperor’s gaze become sharper and more determined with each passing year. His claim of old age was nothing but an excuse.

But none of them dared voice their opposition.

“The Crown Prince has already proven his worth over the past two years. He has personally overseen numerous projects and demonstrated the competence of a true sovereign. With your support, he will become an even greater emperor than I ever was. So there is no need to worry. Instead, prepare yourselves.”

He paused briefly, his gaze sweeping across the nobles.

“Prepare to welcome your new emperor.”

The nobles exchanged confused glances, but did not dare argue further. The emperor rose from his throne, his decision final, and turned to leave the conference hall.

But before stepping down from the podium, he addressed the only person who had remained silent throughout the entire exchange.

“Marquise Blante, look at me for a moment.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Standing there with her signature red hair elegantly tied up was Marquise Ariel Blante.

“Your Majesty, please convince His Majesty to reconsider.”

“That’s right. Hasn’t the Emperor always favoured you, Marquise?”

“The Emperor has never rejected any of your suggestions. If you speak to him now, he will surely change his mind.”

As soon as the Emperor had left the council chamber, the nobles swarmed around Ariel, begging her to persuade him.

They begged her to do so.

But Ariel offered only a faint smile in return. Without saying a word, she quietly left the room.

She had no intention of persuading him.

In fact, she knew it was impossible to convince him.

She had stood by his side as his closest confidante for the past six years, governing the empire with him. During that time, she had come to understand the Emperor better than anyone.

Once he had made a decision, he never wavered. He would press forward without hesitation, never looking back.

It was this resolve that enabled countless reforms to be swiftly implemented, transforming the empire at a remarkable pace.

He was undoubtedly the emperor best suited to an empire in desperate need of change.

However, the empire had now undergone so many changes that it was entering a period in which stability was needed.

Ariel stopped herself before she could finish the thought.

As a subject, it was disloyal to think such a thing about her sovereign.

Even if he might not be the most suitable ruler for this era of stabilisation, he had brought about countless reforms and laid the very foundation of peace in the Pentium Empire.

He was more than deserving of his position.

He had held the highest level of power for a very long time.

But what could she do if he no longer wanted to live that way?

He wasn’t impulsive; he was driven by ambition.

In fact, he was far from impulsive.

He had made the decision to relinquish the throne he had seized through bloodshed. This was not a choice made on a whim, but a resolution formed long ago after much deliberation and preparation.

How could anyone change such a firm will?

Ariel smiled bitterly to herself. She was sorry to disappoint the nobles, but she did not possess that kind of power.

In truth, she wasn’t even that close to the Emperor.

The reason he had entrusted her with state affairs had never been personal; it was simply because it was what the Empire needed. Anyone could see that.

“Your Excellency, the Marquise has arrived.”

The attendant’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“We’ve already exchanged enough formal greetings in the conference room. Let’s skip them here. Please, have a seat.”

Before Ariel could bow, the Emperor casually motioned for her to sit down.

Ariel took her seat without hesitation, being familiar with the Emperor’s dislike of unnecessary formalities.

Outside, the court was in chaos, but here everything was calm.

In fact, it was more than just calm. The air was fragrant, and the surroundings were beautiful.

This was the Emperor’s private garden.

Ariel quietly observed the Emperor through the sea of vibrant yellow flowers.

“So you throw a bomb into the middle of everything and now you’re resting here at ease?”

“Are you scolding me, Marquise? Well, I suppose I did cause quite a commotion. I should expect to be scolded at least once.”

He fixed his gaze on Ariel, waiting for her to reprimand him.

Although she was one of his closest confidants, she was still risking being scolded by her sovereign.

To an outsider, the scene might have seemed shocking. Yet none of the emperor’s attendants, who were standing silently in the garden, reacted.

They had seen this many times before.

After all, Ariel Blante was the only person capable of stopping the emperor in his tracks.

Ironically, she hadn’t even started out on good terms with him.

Wasn’t it absurd to suddenly start acting like a loyal subject after having once threatened, challenged and taken revenge on the Emperor?

Ariel had always prided herself on having at least a semblance of manners.

She remembered the Emperor grumbling that she was even blunter and more relentless than her father when she scolded him.

Today, however, she hadn’t come to raise her voice or argue.

She didn’t support his abdication, but perhaps his decision deserved to be respected.

With calm composure, Ariel spoke.

“How could I dare to rebuke Your Majesty?”

The Emperor’s expression twisted slightly, as if he were momentarily dumbfounded by her response. But Ariel continued in a soft tone.

“I was simply a little surprised, that’s all. I thought you had called me here to discuss the abdication process, and yet here we are in such an open place.”

Such an important matter as abdication should have been discussed in private, where there was no risk of being overheard — not in a public place like this, where there are so many eyes and ears.

But, judging by the location, that didn’t seem to be his intention.

You’ve thrown the entire empire into turmoil.

Is this really the time for a casual chat?

Just as Ariel was contemplating voicing her sharp criticism, the Emperor spoke first.

“You don’t need to worry about the succession process. Everything has already been prepared. There may be a bit of unrest in the capital for a few days, but the transition will go smoothly.”

Ariel paused, studying him carefully. As she had expected, the Emperor had been preparing for this abdication for quite some time.

But when exactly had he made this decision?

A sudden curiosity stirred within her. Along with it came words from the past that she had nearly forgotten.

On the day she was granted the title of Marquise of Blante, she appeared before the Emperor for a private audience.

“Congratulations, Marquise. It won’t be easy for you to remain loyal to me. But someday, I will pay for my sins. So don’t hate me too much. Work hard for the Empire.”

The price… could it be?

Ariel carefully parted her lips.

“Your Majesty, is this abdication tied to the punishment you once spoke of?”
The Emperor chuckled softly, not waiting for her to finish.
“And if it were?”
Then, seeing her serious expression, he added with a smile,
“There’s no need to look so solemn, Marquise. My abdication has nothing to do with paying any price.”

It wasn’t a lie. Despite the mistakes he made during his reign, he would be remembered as a good ruler. He would spend his remaining years in peace and eventually die of natural causes.

But for Ariel, that one mistake was an open wound.

As her gaze darkened slightly, the Emperor’s low voice broke the silence.

“Even if I do not face punishment in this life, won’t I face it once this life is over? God has seen everything I have done. I believe he will not forget my sins and will surely hold me accountable. But since you cannot see that with your own eyes, it seems that I have broken my promise to you. I am sorry.”

The Emperor lowered his head, offering a heavy, sincere apology.

Ariel slowly lifted her gaze and met his eyes. Her steady black eyes reflected quiet honesty.

There was no need to search for hidden meanings. She had seen the Emperor express his regret over the loss of his loyal vassal every day for six years.

Hadn’t he also coldly cast aside his closest blood relatives?

That must have been an agonising decision.

Yet he never expressed any resentment towards Ariel, nor did he ever mention her name in her presence.

He treated her as though she were a stranger, a complete outsider.

Ariel was the only person who ever reminded him of that person.

“Marquise?”

The Emperor’s voice pulled Ariel out of her reverie.

Those black eyes – just like that person’s.

Shaking off the fleeting image in her mind, Ariel spoke calmly to the Emperor.

“Your Majesty, you don’t need to apologise to me anymore. I no longer resent you. I have already forgiven you.”

It was something she had long felt she should say.

And now she finally had.