Excessive anger is not good for a worn-out body. However, the Marquis simply couldn’t calm down.

He had been summoned by the Emperor from dawn the previous day. The faint light outside suggested the night was barely lifting—a time too early even to call early.

Though he complied with the summons and headed to the office, the Marquis couldn’t guess the Emperor’s intentions. ‘Why would he call me at this hour? Surely, he’s not just pulling another one of his tricks, like last time.’

The Marquis understood as soon as he arrived. If he wanted to survive, he had to submit. The Emperor was furious. And not just a little.

“Marquis.”

The Emperor did not raise his voice, but this was a man who never showed anger, even when delivering death sentences. Bowing his head nearly to the floor, the Marquis sensed it intuitively: something had gone wrong. He wasn’t sure what, but something had clearly gone wrong.

“If the responsibilities of the position you earned were overwhelming, you should have told me.”

The Emperor’s calm voice was devoid of any warmth. Goosebumps prickled on the Marquis’s arms. And then came words that, to him, were as good as a death sentence.

“Effective today, you are stripped of all authority as the overseer of the selection process. Take note of that, Marquis.”

“…Your Majesty!”

“You failed to properly oversee even one candidate, bringing disgrace to the royal family. It’s only right you bear the consequences. Don’t you agree? Isn’t that right, Marquis?”

“Y-Your Majesty, I was entirely at fault. I was careless. I promise never to disappoint you again, so please reconsider…”

“You may leave now.”

“Your Majesty!”

In desperation, the Marquis raised his head without realizing it, forgetting himself and decorum. He froze as though he had seen a monster from myth. The Emperor’s golden eyes were colder than his voice, tightening around the Marquis’s throat like a vice. He quickly lowered his head again.

“Marquis, if I severed your head and then placed it back on your shoulders…”

“…”

“Would it stay?”

“…”

“What’s the use of swearing never to sever a head again, when it’s already been cut? Ha, it’s nothing but laughable.”

“…”

“If you understand, then truly—leave.”

The Emperor’s decision was firm. There was no room for reconsideration. Though the Marquis nearly lost himself there on the spot, he managed to retreat on his own, not wanting to be dragged out by the guards. His mind cleared only after he returned to his quarters.

“How could he do this…”

A day had already passed, but still, the Marquis couldn’t quell the burning anger inside him. He’d already smashed several tables and replaced them, feeling that he would explode if he did nothing. After shattering yet another vase, he slammed his fist onto a table.

“For such a trivial reason, to treat me this way! How dare he! After all I’ve done for him!”

His breathing grew heavy, and his eyes were bloodshot. He felt a wave of injustice and anger, but there was nothing he could do about it. The Emperor’s decision was absolute. From the start, the position of head of the selection process was a power the Emperor could grant or revoke at will. There was no room for dissent.

“Damn it!”

He had come so far.

The Marquis struggled to catch his breath. Given his age and weakened body, such excessive agitation was ill-advised. He broke a few more dishes, then finally managed to calm himself, sinking into a chair as his head pounded.

Seeing him press his hand to his forehead, a servant approached and offered him a lukewarm cup of tea. The Marquis drained it in one gulp, exhaling a long breath.

‘Not much longer now.’

He repeated this to himself. The stage had to be flawless. Only then could he bring down the absolute ruler. Closing his eyes, the Marquis recalled a moment from the past.

“Did you know?”

“Know what?”

“There’s no way to bring down a perfect person. That’s why they’re called perfect—they don’t break.”

“But just now…”

“Do you think the Emperor is perfect?”

Two people sat across from each other with a table between them. The person in the Marquis’s memory asked. When the Marquis didn’t respond, the other person gave a faint smile and spoke again.

“Perhaps so. He certainly seems to have everything. As an Emperor, he might be perfect. As a man, a warrior, and a ruler.”

“Then…”

“But as a human being, he is far from perfect.”

“…”

“Remember, we’re not trying to bring down the Emperor. What we aim to destroy isn’t the Emperor himself, but…”

The person in the memory paused deliberately, as if to emphasize the thought, then took a sip of the now-cold tea before finishing.

“…just a sick man.”

“Yes…”

Returning to reality, the Marquis tapped his fingers on the table. He leaned back fully in his chair, letting his thoughts settle.

“It’s fine. There’s been a slight hiccup, but not enough to derail the plan. Even in this situation, setting the stage is still…”

Just as he seemed to calm down, the Marquis’s brows furrowed again. Thinking about it only made his blood boil once more. ‘All of this because of one foolish candidate! What a mess.’

As a result, he would have to double his efforts to keep track of every move the candidates in the selection process made. Carrying out his plans would also require a far more careful approach. It was an unnecessary waste.

“Damn it. As much as I needed a fitting candidate, I should have set some boundaries. I didn’t expect anyone could be so utterly empty-headed.”

The Marquis folded his hands and rested his chin on them. Shifting his posture, his thoughts took a new direction.

“Still, the Emperor’s anger is excessive. No matter what, it’s not like him. Yes, she may have disgraced the royal family, but that’s a subjective interpretation. Normally, the Emperor would have settled for a public reprimand of the parties involved.”

In other words, there was no reason for him to be dragged into it. At most, a reprimand or some restriction after the selection process had ended.

And it wasn’t just that. Thinking of Ormil’s punishment, the Marquis furrowed his brows even more deeply.

He had heard that she was currently imprisoned in the underground dungeon. Locking up the soldier who committed the assault made sense, as he was the perpetrator and a commoner, but imprisoning a noble lady was unquestionably excessive. That place was reserved for only the most serious offenders. From the looks of it, Ormil Petten’s punishment…

‘One would think someone had died or suffered severe injury. But I heard it was just a minor bruise.’

“Hm.”

A nasal sound escaped his lips. The Marquis’s thoughts drifted to the victim of the incident.

Mail von Vizeat, an attendant of Princess Riela from the Kingdom of Belthier, who was participating in the selection process. As far as he knew, she hadn’t dined alone with the Emperor or developed a personal connection with him.

There wasn’t anything particularly unusual about her. She wasn’t a candidate, after all, so he hadn’t been gathering any information on her.

‘Wait. Come to think of it, Iseline did come to me recently, complaining.’

The Marquis’s memory stalled for a moment, his eyes glinting. Yes, that was it. She had mentioned that the Emperor seemed to have found himself a romantic interest.

The plausible connection brought a peculiar expression to the Marquis’s face.

“A romantic interest… I need to verify this.”

The Marquis released his hand from under his chin. He gestured for the attendant to leave and then summoned his closest confidant. Bowing respectfully, the confidant approached, ready to obey the Marquis’s every command. When the Marquis whispered something to him, the confidant quietly left the room shortly after.