‘Does he simply not care? Is it that he’s so indifferent to who becomes empress that he doesn’t want to waste his time on the selection process?’

That would make sense. But as soon as she thought she understood, Mail tilted her head again. The more she thought about it, the less sense it made. If the emperor didn’t care, why bother with such a complex selection process? If it didn’t matter, couldn’t he just pick anyone?

‘So, does it mean he doesn’t care who becomes empress, but there are specific conditions in place? The marquis acts as if he can eliminate candidates as he pleases, but in reality, he’s probably just filtering them based on pre-set criteria… Hmm, that sounds plausible.’

Having reached a conclusion, Mail nodded to herself. The emperor didn’t care which young lady became empress, as long as she met certain qualifications. And the one tasked with filtering the candidates was the mustachioed Marquis Bolthen.

‘That’s probably the situation. But is there a need to go out of their way to announce that the emperor is so indifferent to the selection? It’s as if they’re outright declaring that the position of empress is purely political and that whoever ends up in the role is just someone who meets the requirements… Hmm?’

Mail furrowed her brow again. Her mind, which had briefly cleared, was once again muddled.

If they were announcing the emperor’s indifference to the process, it almost seemed like a hint that he had a lover elsewhere. Why else would they hint to the candidates that the empress might become a mere figurehead?

A warning that the empress could become a loveless, title-only figure. The more perceptive candidates had likely already picked up on this.

If that’s the case, Mail’s earlier question returned.

‘Why was the emperor seeking an empress if he already had a lover? Was his lover of such low status that she couldn’t become the empress?’

‘No, even if she were a commoner, the emperor could make her his legitimate wife if he wanted to. He could easily have her adopted into a noble family… Ugh, I don’t know.’

‘Enough. My head’s going to explode.’

Mail decided to stop thinking about it for now. There’s no point in overanalyzing when she didn’t know enough. She resolved to save her questions for when she met her master.

“I won’t be taking any questions today. If you have any, feel free to relay them through the palace maids or servants. I’ll respond within a few days.”

As he spoke, Marquis Bolthen stroked his mustache again. It seemed to be a habit.

“I’ll announce the date of the first selection round soon. Until then, please continue enjoying your daily routines as you have been. By the way, you’re free to use any facilities within the auxiliary palace without restrictions, and in the main palace, you may freely access the library, central garden, and dining hall.”

“You must receive separate permission for other areas, but on the day of a banquet, you are free to enter the banquet hall.”

“What the…?”

“Aren’t they going to tell us the selection criteria?”

“Should we ask?”

“They said they won’t be answering questions today.”

The murmuring that had started in various places spread throughout the room. Whether they were talking to themselves or conversing with someone next to them, none of the voices were particularly loud.

In fact, they were closer to whispers, likely because everyone was conscious of the emperor’s presence in the same space. Some, ignoring the Marquis’ words entirely, had been staring intently at the emperor since earlier.

‘A few of them are already on the verge of falling in love. They’re bound to go through some needless heartache… Ha! Princess!’

At that moment, Mail suddenly thought of Riela and quickly turned her head. She needed to check how Riela, who had insisted that the emperor was undoubtedly her match because of his otherworldly good looks, was reacting.

Now that the chances of the empress’s role being reduced to a mere figurehead had increased, if Riela fell in love with the emperor at first sight, it would certainly become quite a headache. Mail hurriedly looked at Riela but was momentarily taken aback.

“…Princess?”

“Hm?”

“What are you tilting your head about?”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry.”

Riela, who had her head tilted to the side, straightened it like a spring toy. The ornaments in her hair clinked together. Mail, watching this, raised a question in her mind.

‘…?’

Though she didn’t know why Riela had been doing that, she was relieved for now that it didn’t seem like Riela had fallen in love yet.

“Then, I, Marhim Bolthen, having completed my duties for today, will now step back. Candidates are free to enjoy the banquet until late into the night.”

The marquis said this and quietly retreated from his position. Although it sounded like he was about to leave entirely, he surprisingly didn’t exit, but merely stood still after changing his position.

Mail, who was watching the silent marquis standing in the corner, soon realized why. Ah, since the emperor was still present, he couldn’t leave.

‘So, will the emperor be the first to depart soon?’

As she thought this and shifted her gaze, Mail was startled. She had locked eyes with the emperor. This time, it wasn’t her imagination. Their gazes had genuinely met. And what shocked Mail even more was that the emperor quickly averted his gaze right after.

‘…What just happened?’

‘Why avoid my gaze?’

It wasn’t a mistake. The emperor had indeed turned his head and deliberately looked away as soon as their eyes met. It was so blatant that even Mail was taken aback. She was both bewildered and confused. The emperor avoided her gaze? No, what on earth was going on?

Why had the emperor avoided Mail’s eyes?

There was a reason behind this bewildering action that only the emperor himself knew. While fixing his gaze on the chandelier in the banquet hall, he spoke in a quiet voice.

“Sir.”

The man standing to his right, Banther, responded. Addressing someone without using their name usually meant the emperor was referring to Banther when he was by his side.

“Yes.”

As Banther responded in a similarly low voice, the emperor continued speaking. His voice remained as quiet as a whisper.

“I almost laughed just now.”

“…”

Banther remained silent. So what?

Whether the emperor knew the irreverent thoughts of his friend, guard, and lieutenant, he continued speaking. His voice was still low, as if murmuring.

“I’m not joking, Sir. I was really close to bursting out. I almost shattered my dignity right here.”

“You’ve already shattered it quite enough, Your Majesty.”

“But only you can hear this, right?”

Rohayden’s expression remained serious. Judging by his face, it seemed as if he was issuing important orders to Banther.

A young lady watching him blushed shyly, marveling at how he could remain so solemn from head to toe. Thanks to Rohayden’s perfect expression control, the truth remained entirely concealed from the outside world.

Banther silently clicked his tongue. What a con artist.

“Sir.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Do you know what’s harder to suppress than pain?”

“What…?”

“That would be laughter.”

“…”

“The lungs are a surprisingly fragile organ, you know.”

Once again, Banther remained silent. He had no desire to respond. He was even slightly annoyed.

‘What on earth was he talking about?’

Despite Banther’s displeasure, Rohayden was quite serious by himself. He had genuinely been close to bursting into laughter.

The reason he had quickly averted his gaze after meeting Mail’s was for this very reason. He was afraid he might laugh. He feared that he might end up pounding on the throne while roaring with laughter.

‘From now on, I’ll regard her as my junior.’

Every time they saw the other, the scene automatically replayed in their mind, whether they intended it or not: the reverent kneeling posture, the firm tone, and the timely gust of wind. It had been a perfect moment.

From the moment he entered the hall and discovered the letter, no one had recognized the patience Rohayden had been enduring all this time. It was a solitary struggle.

There had been two crises along the way, but fortunately, he had managed to overcome them so far. Before he could find himself in the irreversible situation of bursting into laughter, he decided to leave.

“Has the marquis finished rambling?”

“Yes, long ago.”

“Is that so? I was too focused on something else. Shall we go now?”

Rohayden took his gaze off the innocent chandelier. He had come with the intention of making a token appearance, but to leave without saying a single word felt a bit awkward.

After rising to his feet, he did not immediately descend from the throne. Instead, he scanned the crowd. Yes, a greeting would suffice.

“Thank you all for coming such a long way. I hope you spend your time comfortably here, treating it more like a vacation than a competition. May Helvern’s protection be with you all.”

With those brief words, Rohayden stepped down from the throne and walked toward the door. The waiting attendant quickly ran ahead to hold and open the door.

As the door opened, the band played the drums—boom, boom, boom! This time, there were no trumpet sounds. Normally, a different trumpet would signal the emperor’s departure, but Rohayden had put a stop to it, saying it was ridiculous to make such a fuss over his exit. Only the attendant seemed sad and regretful about it.

As the emperor exited, the marquis also swiftly slipped out through the entrance. Once the two of them had disappeared, the hall was left with only the candidates and servants, as if that had been the scene all along.

The band resumed the performance that had been paused earlier, but it was hard to hear over the growing murmurs.

The women, who had been lowering their voices out of concern for the emperor, now raised them the moment their object of attention was gone. The noise in the room quickly grew louder.

Mail, observing the various factions she had seen in the dining hall earlier grouping together, moved closer to Riela.

“Princess.”

“What is it?”

“Will you stay longer?”

TL NOTE: Visit dusk blossoms for more advanced chapters and stories