Anger boiled up inside her.

Had saving her at the second hideout really been just a whim?

For a moment, Ailie had allowed herself to be swayed by it.

After indulging in his whims for so long, perhaps he was finally showing his true colors.

She had even entertained such a foolish thought, despite having been deceived time and time again.

“Save me. Please.”

She had been fooled by his pitiful voice.

Fearing betrayal, she locked away that day’s Benate under the guise of a whim.

‘Don’t be fooled. Don’t believe him.’

‘And yet… I wished it wasn’t a whim.’

How wonderful it would have been if her former self had simply been mistaken. How wonderful it would have been if the Benate after her return had truly become a different man.

She had harbored such a ridiculous hope.

“Sirion, please go inside now. I have much to say to His Majesty.”

Sirion hesitated, glancing towards Benate. When he received no response, he quietly left the garden.

Benate remained silent, his gaze fixed on Ailie.

Had he never imagined that she would raise her voice like this?

Deep confusion clouded his eyes. His pale blue irises trembled faintly.

Ailie took a step towards him.

If she didn’t say everything here and now, the backlash might fall on Breni, on Liton — or worse, on her family.

No more.

Steel settled into her resolve as she spoke.

“Your Majesty, if there is something about me you dislike, then say it. I will accept it.”

“……”

“But don’t torment innocent people for it. Please reconsider the matter of Lord Alvaro as well.”

Benate flinched, taking a step back.

Then his gaze slid down and to the left.

His once-composed brow creased slightly.

“Are you saying I took out my anger on innocent people?”

“Isn’t that exactly what you did? You are displeased with me, Your Majesty. Otherwise, you wouldn’t single out the people around me and hurl ab*se at them for no reason.”

“Ab*se.”

“You didn’t even listen to their explanations and lashed out unilaterally. That’s what one calls ab*se.”

The Emperor Benate was not a man to readily expose his weaknesses.

He preferred cold, cutting silence to open hostility.

The fact that he was acting this way for no apparent reason meant that he was clearly displeased about something. Someone had offended him — it was highly likely to be Ailie herself. It was obvious.

She just didn’t know exactly what.

‘Perhaps after saving me, he could no longer forgive the empress who had tormented his mistress.’

Then again, perhaps he was disappointed that she hadn’t fallen to her knees immediately and thanked him for saving her.

Then again, maybe there was another reason altogether.

Perhaps he had always intended to eliminate anyone who might become her ally. Or perhaps he wanted to ensure that no one would ever stand by her side again.

Whatever the reason, it did not justify taking out his anger on Sirion or Ricciardo.

“Sirion merely suggested a walk in the garden to help lift my spirits. I’d been in a foul mood since morning, you see. Can you guess why?”

“……”

“It was because of Lord Alvaro’s entrance exam.”

“……”

“I saw you hold Lord Alvaro responsible for what happened last time. You know better than anyone that it has nothing to do with his entrance exam.”

Benate listened in silence.

Those blue eyes—impossible to read—met hers calmly.

“Please tell me, Your Majesty. What upset you so deeply? What must I do for you to feel appeased?”

Instead of an answer, a long sigh escaped him.

He looked as though he were deliberating, as if he already had an answer prepared, but was deciding whether or not to voice it.

A brief silence followed.

“…I’m sorry. My misunderstanding hurt you.”

The apology came without warning.

***

That afternoon, in the Emperor’s study…

Emperor Benate reread the same passage of the document repeatedly. He could not concentrate. The words refused to sink in; his thoughts were elsewhere.

He knew there was no point in regretting what had already been done.

He still could not stop.

‘I made a mistake.’

Benate acknowledged it plainly.

Then, with a gesture of frustration, he threw the document across the room and raked his hands through his neatly kept silver hair, leaving it in disarray.

“…Ha.”

That had never been his intention.

He replayed the events of the morning in his mind, adding yet another regret to a list he had long since lost count of.

He had never meant to deliberately fail Ricciardo Alvaro.

Even if he joined the Imperial Knights, he would never be assigned to guard the Empress as a junior knight. Even if he eventually proved himself worthy, Benate had only planned to ensure that Ricciardo was never placed at her side.

He had only intended to let him pass — nothing more.

Given his level of skill, Ricciardo would certainly be an asset to the Imperial Knights, not a liability.

But then—

His gaze had strayed, against his will, towards the windows overlooking the training grounds.

Rose-colored eyes followed Ricciardo and shone with open admiration. Unaware of his stare, they were fixed on Ricciardo alone.

‘I never should have allowed him to follow her all the way to the capital.’

As absurd as it was, he felt inferior.

Envy.

The idea that the Emperor, who had Ailie as his wife, could feel inferior to her childhood friend, Ricciardo, seemed ridiculous.

And yet, it was the truth.

He had never seen that expression before.

Not even in his dreams.

Fixing his gaze on Ailie’s retreating back, Benate finally spoke. She turned to face him.

Her eyes lifted with quiet unease.

He recognized it instantly, even from a distance. It was all too familiar.

The sheer absurdity of it made him want to laugh. Could he really feel this wretched over something as petty as jealousy?

‘…So this is why I couldn’t make a sound judgment. This is the only excuse I can come up with.’

From that point on, Benate lost the rationality he had been clinging to.

He dragged up old matters and held Ricciardo accountable, twisted his words, sneered and mocked him all while justifying it to himself.

‘Yes, that’s right. With that level of skill, how dare he endanger the empress? That’s an insult to the Imperial House. This is a fitting punishment—fail him.’

“An insult to the Imperial House, my as$…”

Benate covered his face with both hands and muttered, the words slipping out like a sigh.

It was painfully childish.

Fine. He would admit it now.

‘It was jealousy. Ridiculous, pathetic jealousy.’

The ugly and shameful emotion of jealousy was directed at Ricciardo, who had known Ailie for much longer than Benate had.

Benate knew better than anyone what had happened at the second hideout. He had been there himself, rushing in to save her. There were too many enemies — even Deputy-Captain Liton had struggled. What more explanation was needed?

And yet, Benate acted as though his judgement were absolute. He failed Ricciardo at the entrance examination and walked away.

Then, brazenly, he returned to his study, buried himself in state affairs, and eventually stepped out into the garden to clear his head.

And there, once again, he saw Ailie.

Of all moments…

This time, Sirion Fedroti was standing at her side.

She was smiling brightly and speaking with animated warmth, while Sirion — his ears flushing red — returned the smile. The atmosphere between them was light, gentle and harmonious.

For a moment, Benate felt like an intruder.

After all, Sirion was the Empress’s physician — someone whom Benate himself had appointed.

It was Benate who had sought out Sirion and asked him to care for Ailie when she began to tremble and was unable to meet his gaze.

‘I knew that.’

And yet—

The inferiority that had briefly subsided after Ricciardo’s rejection—no, that wretched jealousy—flared up once more.

And right there, Benate let loose another bout of petty barbs.

Then—

“Your Majesty doesn’t care about my feelings at all, do you?”

At last, Ailie snapped.

In that instant, it felt as though a bucket of cold water had been poured over his head.

His thoughts went blank.

He belatedly realized what he had been saying and doing, and found himself unable to speak.

Her voice was firm and weighted with restraint as she told him not to take his anger out on innocent people.

“The one you’re displeased with is me, isn’t it?”

How had things spiraled into such a misunderstanding?

“Please tell me, Your Majesty. What has upset you so much? Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

What should he have said at that moment?

Benedict played it over and over again in his mind, imagining different responses from her and choosing different words.

That he had simply been jealous?

No — he could never bring himself to admit that.

That he had never been displeased with her?

That was true, but it would sound like a hollow excuse — a thought that terrified him.

Should he summon Ricciardo and Sirion at once and retract everything he had said?

That could wait. Acting hastily and offering solutions before the hurt had had time to sink in might only cause Ailie further distress.

After agonizing over it, Benate chose the simplest path.

He apologized.

He compressed everything into that single word, hoping she would understand, and offered little more than a token apology.

“…I’m sorry. My misunderstanding upset you.”

What misunderstanding? How was he sorry?

Even he didn’t know.

And Ailie did not accept the apology.

“…I understand.”

Those words lingered, heavy and unresolved.

Ailie looked too exhausted to stay angry any longer. She sighed and admitted as much. The cold gaze she directed at Benate made it seem as though she was looking at a lifeless object.

After that, Ailie left the garden.

Benate stood where he was for a long time before finally following the attendant who had come for him. It was only then that he returned to his duties, which is why he was back here now.

He pushed himself up from his chair and dragged his feet towards the door. He gathered the documents scattered across the floor before returning to his desk. A long, weary sigh escaped him — one of many that he had lost count of.

‘What should I do now? What am I supposed to do?’

After returning to the palace, Ailie’s complexion had finally regained some color, only to pale once again.

‘Should I just admit everything was jealousy… and slowly explain all the things I couldn’t say when I apologized?’

But would that really change Ailie’s heart?

Benate raked his fingers through his hair again. His reflection in the mirror caught his eye, and the sight was so pitiful that it drew a hollow laugh from his throat.

He returned to his seat, took out a blank sheet of paper and picked up his quill.

[First—invite her to a dinner and create an opportunity to talk…]

The empty page began to fill at a rapid pace.