Chapter 1 – Part 2

“Even the most twisted romance novels wouldn’t go this far,” Mail muttered to herself bitterly. What followed in the dream was a horrifying sequence of events. The Emperor, driven mad by the death of his lover, and a small kingdom consumed by flames under the Emperor’s crazed sword.

Mail, a citizen of that small kingdom, pressed her index finger to the bridge of her nose. Just thinking about the dream made her head hurt. It was an unpleasant pain.

‘It was just a meaningless nightmare, I hope…’

But this wasn’t just any trivial matter. The fate of the country was at stake. The thought of her homeland being burned to the ground meant countless lives would be lost. Friends, family—no one might survive. She could end up thrown into a hell where living might be worse than dying.

That must not happen.

Mail clenched her fist resolutely. She had come all the way to the empire, involving herself in this mess. There was no way she would allow such a nightmare to come true. She wouldn’t give it a chance. Not even a one-in-a-million chance would be tolerated. No, no matter what happens!

‘I will protect my country!’

Clip-clop.

The carriage carrying the hero moved closer and closer to the royal palace.

***

“Hello, Princess. I am Mail Fonz Vizeart, and I will be attending to you during the selection process. I look forward to working with you.”

Riela looked just like a fairy. Mail thought so as she greeted her and looked at her up close.

“You’re coming with me?”

“Yes.”

“Will you ride in the same carriage?”

“Yes.”

“Then will you lie down inside the carriage?”

Mail didn’t bother asking why she would ask such a question. Riela’s questions rarely had any reason behind them. Instead of responding with a question, Mail calmly answered.

“If there’s enough space.”

“All right. I’ll allow it.”

She received a strange kind of permission.

Moments later, Mail and Riela boarded the carriage bearing the royal crest. It was large and ornate, clearly a special effort had been made.

The grand white carriage, pulled by six horses, carried just two passengers inside and then set off with the doors firmly closed. The other carriages carrying the attendants seemed to be following behind.

Seated inside, Mail relaxed her body. The empire was far. Even if the carriage traveled swiftly, it would take at least two weeks. If she stayed tense the whole time, she would only tire herself out.

She took off her coat and let her hair down. She now looked more comfortable. Having lowered her guard a little, Mail suddenly became curious about Riela’s state and glanced over.

As expected, she had already merged with the seat, lying down. It was an impressive posture that seemed to defy the formality of the location.

‘Will this be okay?’

Mail swallowed nervously as she gazed at the golden hair scattered messily across the white sheets. For some reason, she felt complicated emotions.

Could I really say it? Could I confidently proclaim in the empire,

‘This princess is my princess! She is the one representing our kingdom in the Empress selection contest!’

“…Hmm…”

As she agonized, Riela, who was lying down, kicked her legs playfully. Mail immediately offered a silent prayer. ‘Dear God, please grant me the courage. The courage to not shun the princess in the empire.’

“Mail.”

“Yes?”

Mail, offering her irreverent prayer with sincerity, responded brightly, though feeling guilty. Riela, who had spoken to her, looked somewhat bored.

“How much longer until we get there? When will we arrive?”

Mail fell silent for a moment. Do people usually ask that right after they set off?

“Well… even at the shortest, it will take more than ten days. The empire is quite far away.”

“That long?”

“Yes.”

“That’s too long. Oh, what if we travel through the night? Then we’ll arrive sooner, right?”

Riela clapped her hands as she offered her suggestion, clearly thinking it was a brilliant idea. Mail, impressed by how quintessentially Riela it was, carefully chose her words.

Technically, if they did travel through the night, the time to arrival would be reduced. And the coachman’s lifespan would probably be reduced, too.

“That’s not possible. We need to rest at night.”

“Why?”

“If we travel through the night, you’d have to stay in the carriage the entire time. It’ll get suffocating and exhausting.”

Mail deliberately didn’t mention that the horses would tire out or that the coachman might collapse from sleep deprivation.

If the horses got tired, Riela would likely suggest just switching them out, and if the coachman started to nod off, she’d probably say they could just get another one. Mail, having dealt with Riela before, was familiar with how her mind worked.

“Really? Well, lying down like this doesn’t feel too bad.”

“But if you stay in the carriage for too long, your appearance might become… disheveled.”

“Huh?”

“It means you might not look your best.”

That seemed to bother Riela, as her face scrunched up immediately. It was an honest reaction.

“Are you worried about being late, Princess?”

“Well… maybe a little?”

Mail suppressed a snicker at how even Riela’s carefree brain knew the concept of worry.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing. What exactly are you worried about?”

“If I’m late, some lowly, shameless fox might snatch the emperor away before I get there!”

Riela grumbled, her face displeased, as if this were a serious problem. Her smooth nose wrinkled with concern, indicating that, in her mind, this was indeed a grave matter.

The moment Mail heard this, she was sure: ‘That ‘shameless fox’ line must have come from some romance novel. I’d bet money on it.’

“Is that what you’re worried about? Don’t worry, Princess. Even if that happens, once you arrive, the emperor will only have eyes for you.”

“…Really?”

“Of course.”

‘If you’re going to lie, wet your lips first’, the saying goes. So, Mail wetted her lips with a bit of spit and smiled sweetly. Though she hadn’t explicitly said the emperor would fall in love with her, she did wonder if he might just be so intrigued by her unique personality that he couldn’t look away.

Riela, taken in by Mail’s flattery, immediately brightened up. Her mood shifted so quickly that it was as if she hadn’t been grumbling at all just moments ago. Smiling broadly, Riela, still lying down, turned her head to continue her chatter.

“You’re right. I ‘am’ really pretty. People always say they’ve never seen someone as beautiful as me.”

“Absolutely.”

“That’s why I always wear a hat when I go out. It’d be a disaster if people went blind just by looking at me.”

“How thoughtful of you.”

“Which is why the only person who deserves me is the emperor.”

Mail, playing along enthusiastically, suddenly paused. How did the conversation veer off in this direction? She found it a little sad that she had to feel relieved knowing Riela was at least capable of using the proper honorific for the emperor.

“Anyone less attractive than the emperor just won’t do.”

“Princess, you haven’t actually met His Majesty, the emperor of the Helvern Empire, yet, have you?”

“No.”

“What about a portrait?”

“Haven’t seen one.”

“Then how do you know what he looks like?”

“Rumors!”

Riela answered proudly. “I heard from rumors he looks like this and that.”

In truth, there wasn’t much else to rely on. The emperor of the Helvern Empire was a distant figure, shrouded in rumors, particularly in lands far from the empire.

Not only was the journey there long and difficult, but even if one wanted to, it wasn’t easy to meet the emperor.

Especially in Mail’s homeland, the Kingdom of Belthier, where no envoys had ever been sent to the empire, anyone who claimed to know what the emperor looked like would be hard-pressed to prove it.

However, no matter how much one only has rumors to believe, it’s undeniably foolish to accept them at face value.

Rumors, by nature, tend to be exaggerated, with fabricated details piled on top of half-truths, and sometimes they even conjure something out of nothing, displaying an almost creative genius. There’s a reason people say, “The scars from being blindsided by a rumor never heal.”

Of course, common sense rarely applied to Riela. Mail thought of the rumor that Riela firmly and unquestioningly believed.

[The young and capable emperor of the Helvern Empire is as beautiful as a god. His platinum hair shines brighter than the snow-covered fields under the sun, and his eyes are deeper than a lake forged from the world’s finest gold. As for his perfectly harmonious features and well-proportioned physique, no god, no matter how omnipotent, could have created such a perfect being from nothing. Perhaps he is the first human made in the image of a god.]

“Ugh.”

The words resurfaced in vivid detail. As Mail recalled the text in full, she grimaced. Her hands and feet, which had remained steady even while reading romance novels, now cringed.

“That, ahem… the rumor about His Majesty being a platinum-haired, incredible beauty? Like, god-like and lake-like and all that?”

“That’s right.”

“If that’s true, it would be quite impressive.”

“That’s why he suits me!”

Mail quietly looked at Riela. Come to think of it, Riela had been focused solely on the emperor’s appearance from the start, not his abilities or status. Hmm, could it be?

“Princess.”

“What?”

“What if, just by chance, His Majesty isn’t as dazzlingly handsome as the rumors say? I mean, what if he’s good-looking, but just in a more ordinary, common way?”

“What? No way! Then I won’t marry him!”

Riela declared the still-undecided marriage null and void. Mail, looking down at her, felt an odd sense of hope.

A powerful nation’s ruler, young, unmarried, and highly capable, but rejected by a princess solely because his face—while not ugly—wasn’t quite as handsome as expected.

Normally, such a statement would have been absurd, but at that moment, Mail felt as though it were a lifeline.

‘This is it.’

In the dream, Riela’s insanity stemmed from being consumed by love. In other words, if she didn’t fall head over heels for the emperor, none of that would happen in the first place.

If Riela showed no interest in the emperor at all? Then they could just gracefully withdraw and return to their homeland, saving the nation in the simplest way possible!

‘He can’t be handsome. Please, don’t be handsome. God, let all those rumors be lies!’

Mail prayed for the second time inside the carriage. She had never been religious, but in times like this, one tended to turn to higher powers.

“I can’t wait to meet His Majesty. I’m so curious!”

“Me too.”

Inside the quiet space, two conflicting desires emerged. The carriage rattled along, filled with different hopes about the same man.