“I didn’t like the weeds.”

“Whatever. Anyway, from what I remember, you’ve never treated anyone you dated as special. That’s why they all left.”

Banther doesn’t understand true love. Despite all the experience, he’s still a beginner in romance. Telia concluded with a note of finality, as if making a diagnosis. Banther looked at his sister, who was acting like some kind of love expert, utterly dumbfounded.

“Then what’s real love? Some kind of burning passion where you can’t live without the other person? Like your heart catches on fire if you don’t see them for a single day?”

“Something like that.”

“Telia. Seriously, it sounds like you’re going through a delayed teenage phase.”

Banther chided her, as if asking how she could talk about love like some starry-eyed teenager. He found her claim absurd. Love like that, the kind you read about in stories? Does that even exist in the real world? It only exists in stories because it doesn’t exist in reality. Stories are made up, after all.

Now, let’s take a brief look at Banther’s past relationships.

Banther had dated seven women so far. Considering his age, it wasn’t too many or too few—just an appropriate number. But he had never felt any sense of urgency with any of those seven women.

His thought process was something like this: He never understood the anxiety or desperation of not being able to meet someone immediately.

‘Would they die if I couldn’t see them today? Would the world collapse? If today doesn’t work, we’ll meet tomorrow, and if not tomorrow, then the day after. If not then, we’ll meet the day after that. It’s not like they’re going to disappear if we don’t meet for a few days.’

This was his mentality.

He had never suffered deep anguish after a breakup. He felt a bit unsettled when his relationships ended, but that was the extent of it. He had never once considered trying to stop someone from leaving. After all, half the world’s population is women—why waste time clinging to someone who doesn’t want you? It seemed like a waste of time.

Banther had always approached relationships in this manner. Ever since he first became aware of the opposite s*x, his attitude had been consistent. He believed that what he had done was nothing more than a typical, ordinary romance. In his mind, the reason he wasn’t married yet was simply because he was too busy.

Telia didn’t bother to argue or retort; she just shrugged her shoulders. There was no point in wasting words when the person in question was completely unaware.

‘If he ever truly falls for someone before he dies, he’ll realize it on his own,’ she thought, emptying the rest of her tea, now lukewarm.

“Well, it’s not like you’re the only one who’s clueless when it comes to romance. His Majesty seems to be the same.”

“Hm? Why His Majesty? He’s been seeing Lady Tengott for three years now.”

Lady Tengott referred to Iseline.

Iseline Tengott. Though her baronial family had collapsed due to financial troubles, the name remained, and she was still called Lady Tengott.

Banther looked at Telia with a puzzled expression, confused by the mention of His Majesty. ‘Isn’t His Majesty handling his love life just fine, unlike me?’ That was the meaning behind his question. But Telia shook her head. As expected, not only was he oblivious about his own love life, but he was also clueless about others’.

“I only have one question. Does His Majesty owe that lady a debt?”

“What? Why would His Majesty owe her anything?”

“Well, clearly you don’t know then.”

Telia propped her chin on her hand again as she listened to her brother’s incredulous answer. The reason she asked him about this was simple: a sense of obligation.

From the few times she had observed the relationship between the Emperor and Iseline Tengott, she couldn’t help but feel that there was some inexplicable sense of indebtedness.

It was strange. What on earth could the Emperor possibly owe to the daughter of a fallen noble family?

‘Even Banther himself seemed unaware of it.’

Iseline Tengott was trapped in a delusion. The delusion that the Emperor loved her. If that was the case, it meant that Iseline was completely unaware of the sense of unspoken responsibility or debt that occasionally slipped through the Emperor’s actions and expressions.

Telia hummed to herself. She was curious, but it wasn’t as if she could openly pry into such personal matters involving the Emperor.

“Telia, I tolerate this because it’s me, but don’t go saying things like that outside. Speculating about His Majesty’s romantic life is…”

“Don’t worry. I’m only chatting like this because we’re in private. You know how careful I am with my words and actions, don’t you?”

Telia quickly dismissed the thoughts she had been harboring. *=’There’s no point in dwelling on this. It’s not like it’ll be resolved any time soon.’

Besides, she couldn’t share these thoughts with anyone. Not only because it involved the Emperor, but also because the unusual nature of the relationship had only been noticed due to her unusually keen sensitivity to others’ emotions.

Most people were likely oblivious to the strangeness. Considering even her own brother, who was around the Emperor all day, hadn’t noticed, it was clear no one else had either.

Telia cast aside her musings about the Emperor—who had nothing to do with her, strictly speaking—and shifted the conversation to a new topic.

“By the way, isn’t it time you replaced your sword sheath?”

“My sword sheath? Why bring that up all of a sudden?”

“Your birthday’s coming up, isn’t it? I thought I’d give it to you as a gift. I came up with a brilliant idea recently…”

The siblings, having met for the first time in weeks, continued their conversation, switching topics several times, as the sun that had been high in the sky slowly began to descend.

***

Peace is tied to detachment.

In other words, you achieve the greatest mental peace and stability when you think something is not your problem. Currently, Mail was in an extremely peaceful state.

Yesterday, she had resolved all her questions through a conversation with her master in the garden. She had also uncovered the true nature of the empress selection competition. After that, everything became clear.

‘Empress Selectiom? Not my problem.’

‘The selection criteria? Not my problem.’

‘The Emperor is choosing an empress for the purpose of being deposed? Not my problem.’

‘The Emperor has a lover? Not my problem.’

‘The lover is weak-willed and lacks ambition? Not my problem.’

Everything was someone else’s problem. Now, Mail only needed to hold hands with Riella and sit back and watch Ormil fail in the selection.

Of course, that didn’t mean she had no concerns at all. The selection criteria she had guessed were, first, that the kingdom be far away and relatively weak. Second, that the family not be too insignificant. Third, that the candidate be foolish and greedy. The problem was that the third condition seemed to perfectly describe Ormil, as if it had been made for her.

Based on that alone, Ormil was clearly the top candidate. This was Mail’s conclusion after observing her firsthand.

If there were any other candidates more foolish and greedy than Ormil, then this continent should have already collapsed long ago. Ormil Petten was undoubtedly the perfect choice for an empress meant to be deposed.

~End of Volume 1~