The morning sun illuminated the expansive garden of the main palace. Light scattered dazzlingly through the leaves. Blinking her green eyes, as though collecting the dispersed greenery, Mail opened her mouth.

“Why did I come to like the garden, you ask?”

“Yes.”

The emperor had a day off today. It wasn’t originally scheduled, but when he declared it to be a holiday, it became one. His subordinate, Banther, now accustomed to his superior’s spontaneity, even smiled as he sent him off. The hardened Sir Banther no longer cried.

During a delightful stroll through the garden, Mail pondered the emperor’s question. Why did you become a garden enthusiast?

“Rather than a reason… hmm, I suppose there’s an incident I can call a trigger.”

“A trigger?”

“When was it again? I think it was when I was nine years old.”

At the age of nine, Mail had a governess. Although this character would only be briefly mentioned here, her name was Rose Bell. Most people called her Madam Bell or Teacher Bell.

Renowned for her aptitude in educating young nobles, Madam Bell was a kind, knowledgeable, and passionate woman. She often praised Mail in a soft voice whenever she excelled in her lessons.

“You’ve done so well. Excellent. His Grace will be pleased!”

However, looking back now, that praise wasn’t entirely without issue. Her compliments always followed the same pattern: His Grace will be pleased. Your future husband will love it. Your husband’s mother will be delighted, and so on.

Initially, the sense of validation made Mail feel elated and proud, but as the same praises repeated, nine-year-old Mail grew inexplicably frustrated. Though she didn’t know why, the frustration continued to grow, unsettling her.

Then came one particular day.

A sprout emerged from a small potted plant she had been gifted. She had carefully placed it under sunlight and watered it appropriately. Thrilled, young Mail proudly showed the tender green life she had nurtured to her visiting governess.

Madam Bell was flustered. What is this? Plant cultivation had no relation whatsoever to the etiquette or culture she was teaching. Yet, she couldn’t reprimand the bright-eyed young lady for wasting time on something so meaningless. Forcing a smile, she praised Mail as she always had.

“Oh my, you’ve done so well. How wonderful, my lady.”

For the first time, her compliment deviated from its usual form, as there was no one else to attribute the act to. Cultivating a seed in a pot was neither a source of joy for the duke nor an act that would satisfy a future spouse.

And that praise held profound meaning for young Mail.

“I think I felt, for the first time, that I had accomplished something ‘for myself.’ Learning history, memorizing etiquette—it was all for someone else. But raising a plant was an act solely for me.”

“And so…”

“Yes. That might have been the trigger. I can’t say for certain, but probably.”

Having said this, Mail chuckled awkwardly. It seemed she felt a little shy sharing a story from her childhood. The emperor listened to her answer and muttered with an inscrutable expression.

“…It’s not hereditary. Then the child…”

“Pardon?”

“Never mind. More importantly, I don’t have any particular reason or trigger for liking the garden. It’s a pity I have nothing to share.”

“What does it matter? You can like something for no reason at all.”

“Still. Hearing your story makes me feel strangely hollow.”

“Oh, really, what’s wrong with that? There’s even a saying: liking something for no reason means you truly like it.”

The emperor gazed intently at Mail upon hearing her words. After staring for a while, he abruptly spoke.

“I like you for no reason.”

Mail blinked. Huh? It sounded sudden, but on closer inspection, it was actually contextual. What could this mean? A chuckle escaped her lips, and she replied. Her voice was as soft as sunlight.

“I feel the same. I like Van just because he’s Van.”

The wind blew. A floral scent mingled with the gentle breeze, making it feel like spring. At the edge of autumn, a spring breeze seemed peculiar. Blowing softly, the wind touched the violet buds newly formed in the shade. The violet’s leaves shook vigorously, their movements oddly excessive for the breeze’s mild force.

It looked as though the plant, annoyed at the sight of the couple before it, wanted to cover its eyes but couldn’t reach them, expressing its vexation.

~~End of the Main Story~~

TL NOTE: Side Story will be uploaded in a few weeks. Bookmark the story to be updated with its latest update.