Many ears heard about it, and many eyes witnessed it. There was no way this incident wouldn’t spread. Ena and her group, who had left right before the commotion began, heard about the incident in the dining hall as a late-breaking rumor. The moment they finished listening, the four of them simultaneously widened their eyes.

“Didn’t we… only give her the pouch with the dead one inside?”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Same here.”

“Me too.”

One by one, they nodded. The four of them soon fell silent. None of them had known that Mr. Ba was still alive in the pouch. Whether it was Mr. Ba’s remarkable vitality or their own careless oversight, they couldn’t be sure of the truth.

What was certain, however, was that thanks to them, the dining hall had turned into a mess. The four exchanged glances. Apparently, the one who fainted was Lady Ormil Petten’s daughter? Isn’t that Amy’s lady? …So what do we do now?

“Hey, should we just avoid Amy from now on?”

“I’m all for it.”

“Same here.”

“I’m not one for saying no.”

Their decision was unanimous. They’d made a mistake, but they had no intention of taking responsibility. They all felt the same way. If they had any sense of responsibility, they wouldn’t have taken part in tormenting others in the first place.

Thus, Ena’s group severed ties with Amy. We did what we could, right? It’s not like we’re walking away from a mess. Right? Soon, their whispers shifted to other topics, and their usual chatter resumed.

Meanwhile, Ena’s group weren’t the only ones who received the news. Banther, who heard the report first, looked stunned as he approached the Emperor.

“Your Majesty, I have something to report.”

“If it’s not important, save it for later.”

“It’s not important, but it’s funny.”

“In that case, go ahead.”

“Yesterday, in the dining hall of the west palace…”

Banther was skilled at summarizing the essentials. Upon hearing his brief yet vivid report, the Emperor smacked his desk and doubled over with laughter. The attending servant, who overheard, struggled to stifle a giggle.

“Seems Mail has earned the nickname ‘Mr. Ba Master.’”

Upon hearing Mail’s name once, Rohayden felt such confusion that he hesitated to visit the garden for a while. Reappearing in front of him right after that incident felt somehow embarrassing.

But this time, he couldn’t avoid it. ‘Mr. Ba Master.’ He nearly fainted when he heard the title. Standing before her Master, who had come personally to tease her, Mail sighed deeply.

“So that’s how it is.”

Whether it was a nickname or a title, she’d earned it either way. Naturally, it had nothing to do with honor or prestige, and the fact she couldn’t return it was what saddened her.

Rohayden spoke in a serious tone.

“Doesn’t it feel incomplete with just the title? How about a plaque?”

“…I mean, never mind why you’d make something like that in the first place—who would give it to me?”

“The Emperor.”

“No, thanks.”

Mail cringed, going on to ask if Rohayden thought the Emperor had that much free time. He didn’t, of course; last night, he’d been up until dawn working. That much was a given.

And yet, amidst all his busyness, he kept finding himself drawn to the garden like a trained pup. Rohayden, undeterred by Mail’s reproach, merely smirked.

“Would a plaque be all? The Emperor would gladly crown you with a golden circlet, too.”

“You’ve always been keen on roping the Emperor into things. Why don’t you take the plaque and the crown yourself?”

“Why me?”

“You can handle Mr. Ba yourself, right? Bare-handed.”

Of course, he could. Even before he’d developed a fondness for the garden, he hadn’t flinched at bugs or the like. Rohayden was the type who could prepare giant insect monsters, which most would recoil from, with an unflinching gaze. Not that he would admit this openly; instead, he feigned ignorance.

“I can’t catch them. I’ve been timid since I was little.”
“…….”

“You don’t look too happy.”

“I was just thinking about how to tease my sensitive Master. If I look hard enough, there might not be any more Mr. Ba here, but there could be a friend of Mr. Ba’s around.”

“This is too much. I thought you’d be promising to protect me.”

“How am I supposed to protect you?”

Mail’s voice sounded incredulous, but suddenly something came to mind. She might not have ever protected her master, but there had been a time when he protected her.

It was that afternoon, the first time they had lunch in the garden, when an intruder suddenly rushed at her, trying to take her hostage.

‘That’s right.’

It hadn’t been that long ago, but the memory returned to Mail with a slightly different feeling. Back then, she’d been struck by how her master had chosen to fight bare-handed just to protect the garden. Her heart might have skipped a beat for a moment. But now, recalling it again? Mail found herself focusing on a different aspect.

‘He protected me.’

The realization brought a sudden flush of embarrassment. She remembered his broad back, standing protectively in front of her. It must have been a striking sight if it left such a strong impression.

As she shook her head to erase the vivid memory, Rohayden watched her in mild surprise.

“What are you doing?”

“Huh?”

“You suddenly started shaking your head.”

“Oh, that’s, um… just some silly thoughts popped up.”

“Silly thoughts? Ah, yesterday’s Mr. Ba?”

“…Yes, sort of.”

Mail’s answer grew quiet with a hint of guilt. Rohayden, unaware that his own past image had been replaced with Mr. Ba, continued cheerfully.

“It was quite an impressive act. Even my lieutenant couldn’t stop praising it.”

“Lieutenant? You have a lieutenant?”

Oops. Rohayden quickly corrected his slip.

“…Bugan. An old friend of mine named Bugan.”

Thus, Banther was unintentionally renamed. With no reason to doubt him, Mail accepted the explanation.

“I see. If he’s passing on rumors to someone as free as you, he must be pretty free himself.”

Banther von Mohaim firmly believed he was too busy to date. Rohayden laughed and replied.

“He’s unemployed.”

If busy man Banther had heard that, he might’ve cried. His superior showed no sense of guilt, replying shamelessly. Mail shrugged her shoulders.

“But you’re not?”

“I’m always busy.”

“Busy playing around, I’m sure.”

“Hmm, you’re determined to make me a loafer.”

“Since I see you every time I come to the garden, how could I not?”

“Aren’t you glad to see me?”

Mail hesitated briefly at the playful question. Just for a moment, but not enough to be noticeable. It was clearly a joke, so why did she feel like he’d read her mind? Deep down, Mail knew she’d unconsciously started to enjoy his presence. But she pretended otherwise, putting on an indifferent face.

“A true garden tour is done alone.”

“So, I’m just a nuisance?”

“Glad you know. The door’s that way.”

“How heartless.”

“I told you, I’m only kind to plants.”

“It’s the first time I’ve felt sad not being a plant. Since it’s because of you, you should take responsibility.”

Rohayden opened his arms wide and placed his hands under his chin. Mail, taken aback by the strange gesture, asked what he was doing.

Rohayden responded playfully, “Doesn’t this make me look like a flower?” Mail grimaced.

“Please don’t turn ‘flower’ into an insult.”

“Heartless as always.”

“By the way, master.”

“Hm?”

“The selection process…”

Mail silently counted the days again. Five. There were now just five days left until the first selection round. In other words, only five days. She paused as if taking a breath, then spoke again.

“Do the ones eliminated leave for their homeland right after? Either that day or the next?”

Mail was preparing for four possibilities.

First, Ormil is eliminated in the first round, and Riela passes. That would be ideal. She could say goodbye to Ormil and then voluntarily withdraw.

Second, both Ormil and Riela are eliminated. Riela might feel a bit disappointed, but this wouldn’t be bad. In fact, it would save her the trouble of withdrawing after being selected.

Third, both Ormil and Riela pass. No good answer.

Lastly, Ormil passes while Riela is eliminated. Even worse.

However, Mail wasn’t particularly worried about the unfavorable outcomes. She might have doubts about Riela, but she didn’t think there was any chance Ormil would pass.
Even if the goal is to depose her, she’s still the Empress of the Empire. No matter what, they wouldn’t make someone like her the mother of the nation. Particularly, the incident with Mr. Ba yesterday was decisive, so Ormil’s elimination seemed almost certain.

“You’re surprisingly knowledgeable about things, master. I thought you might know about this too, so I asked.”

Mail recalled the person who had casually granted her the privilege to ask anything about the Emperor. He seemed to know almost everything about him. Surely, he would also know a fair amount about the selection process.

Instead of answering Mail’s question right away, Rohayden remained silent for a moment. It wasn’t because he didn’t know the answer but rather that the question had rekindled the conflict that troubled him all day yesterday. He paused momentarily as it resurfaced.

Despite his inner turmoil, he tried not to show it and answered calmly.

“There will be a banquet for celebration and consolation on each announcement day. It’s expected to last about three days, so you can enjoy the banquets to your heart’s content, or if you prefer, leave early. Does that answer your question?”

“Perfectly.”