At Amelia’s words, Philip fell silent for a moment before letting out an awkward laugh.

“Being proposed to by a lady, huh.”

“No, I’m just responding to your request,” Amelia corrected him.

Philip scratched his head in response. “Is that so?” His playful gesture lacked the energy it once had, and his face showed an awkward expression.

“Amelia, even if we promise to marry, I can’t leave for Sarnica. There’s no valid reason that would get the Empire’s approval for my departure.”

“I don’t care,” she said firmly, her voice so resolute that it made Philip pause.

“That’s not why I decided to marry you.”

“…If that’s the case, I’m really grateful,” Philip replied. “I’m truly happy, but… in my current state, I feel like I’m misinterpreting your intentions.”

“…How so?”

“I keep thinking that the only reason you’re trying to hold me together is because you feel responsible for what I’ve become.”

Amelia felt a pang of sadness and reached for Philip’s hand. She wanted to ask, ‘Is that so wrong?’ But she couldn’t bring herself to say it. She didn’t want to wound his fragile pride.

“I know you’re doing this out of care for me… but I can’t shake the thought that if the accident hadn’t happened, you might have rejected the idea of marriage.”

“Philip…”

“Maybe it’s just because I lack confidence now that I can’t help but twist your words.”

Philip was worried that his current inadequacies had placed Amelia in a position where she felt compelled to accept his proposal.

“What will it take for you to believe me?” Amelia asked.

Philip turned his gaze toward the window.

“…Amelia, I’m honored to say this to you,” he said, smiling despite the bandages wrapped around his head.

“Give me a little time to think.”

—

The day after his arrival at the castle, Josef headed to the emperor’s office.

Officially, it was to report the results of the harbor inspection and discuss the fate of the ‘Levant’, but both Josef and the emperor knew the real reason for their meeting.

“Your decision to send the ‘Levant’ back was unexpected,” the emperor remarked after reading Josef’s report. Despite returning with the achievement of acquiring ten warships from a minor duchy in exchange for the ‘Levant’, the emperor’s first comment was a flat observation: “I didn’t expect the ‘Levant’ to be gone.”

“Olstein’s naval establishment will be a historical milestone. It’s only fitting that new warships be used,” Josef replied, showing no reaction to the emperor’s lack of praise.

The crown prince’s unchanging demeanor was a testament to the royal family’s rigorous training in grooming heirs.

Even so, the emperor was reluctant to face his son.

He still seethed at the memory of Josef suggesting they turn the site of Catherine’s former palace into a mere training ground.

“Your Majesty, his expression is that of a starving lion, and his nature is as cunning as a wolf. You must not carelessly throw him scraps.”

Chancellor Konrad often made such sardonic remarks. Although the emperor neither fully trusted nor frequently sought Konrad’s counsel, they shared a common disdain for Josef.

“The accident of Count Clavier’s son is unfortunate,” the emperor said, deciding it was time to bring up the topic.

“Count Clavier complained that security wasn’t tightened enough on the day of the special release. He’s even angrier after hearing that you left the castle that day.”

The chancellor had engineered the incident, knowing Josef had authorized the prisoner release. A mishap involving one of the freed prisoners would not only provide justification but also make Josef accountable.

However, the unexpected victim—a foreign noble and diplomat’s son—had complicated matters.

“Fortunately, Count Clavier has requested an audience, Your Majesty. I will handle it personally.”

“Very well,” the emperor said, eager for Josef to leave.

“It has been nearly a week, hasn’t it?” Josef added, not moving to rise.

“Since the incident occurred, you mean?”

“Yes. Doesn’t it seem strange that the imperial guards still haven’t apprehended the culprit?”

The emperor, previously dismissive, fell silent. Josef, who had been staring out the window, turned his head.

“You seem unbothered, Your Majesty. Almost as if you hope the culprit won’t be caught.”

Josef’s gaze questioned the emperor silently.

Suppressing his irritation, the emperor replied, “I trust that you will handle this well.”

“Understood,” Josef said.

Afterward, he made small talk about Chancellor Konrad’s recent absence and the well-being of Lady Lily before finally leaving.

—

Count Clavier arrived slightly early for their scheduled meeting, his face a mixture of grief and fury.

“I greet Your Highness, the Crown Prince.”

Despite the formality, the voice and demeanor remained composed.

“How is your son?”

Josef asked, though he found the topic slightly bothersome.

“He has recovered enough to move around.”

“You must have been deeply concerned, Count.”

Count Clavier’s gaze seemed to suggest, ‘Why ask that now?’ Realizing it was pointless to prolong the small talk, Josef decided to move to the main issue.

“The responsibility for this incident lies entirely with me.”

This was something Josef had to say, whether or not he knew that Chancellor Konrad orchestrated the affair.

Blaming it on the Imperial Guard’s negligence would come off as deflecting responsibility, and claiming it as the Empire’s fault would trivialize the matter. In the end, Josef, who had authorized the special release, had to take the lead to maintain Sarnica’s traditional sense of propriety.

“Have the culprits been caught?”

“There are no leads yet.”

At Josef’s words, Count Clavier frowned.

“That is most regrettable, Your Highness. When I was granted an audience, I expected more positive news…”

“They might already have fled the capital and boarded a ship by now.”

Recalling the three burnt corpses in some forest, Josef spoke with a calm nonchalance.

“…”

Count Clavier’s expression darkened. He seemed less upset than contemplative.

“It seems you wish for the culprits to be caught before you return to Sarnica.”

Josef brought up the question he had prepared.

“Was there something particularly valuable among the stolen items?”

Count Clavier’s complexion grew pale.

“W-well… There was a document from the Sarnican royal family in my son’s luggage.”

“What kind of document?”

Rather than answering directly, the count began to ramble about the document. It bore the royal seal of Sarnica and the signature of the Crown Prince, making it unsuitable for public circulation. He lamented that reporting its loss would result in unavoidable disciplinary action against him, causing him significant distress.

“Count, if it’s a matter of discipline, I can resolve it.”

Josef offered to draft a letter acknowledging some responsibility for the loss, bearing the Crown Prince’s seal. Such a document would hold weight anywhere.

Additionally, he proposed adding a response expressing gratitude for the gifts sent by Sarnica’s king. If the count followed Josef’s suggestion, he would return not only without punishment but with diplomatic achievements.

The count’s previously troubled face brightened immediately.

“If Your Highness were to do that, I would be most grateful.”

“However, to draft the letter, I need to know exactly what this stolen document entails.”

At Josef’s remark, the count hesitated. With things at this stage, he had no choice but to reveal that the document was Amelia’s asylum authorization.

“It was found in Philip Clavier’s bag.”

Josef already had it in his possession, handed to him earlier that morning by Henrik.

The moment Josef read the asylum authorization, written in Sarnica’s distinctively refined script, he had to restrain himself from declaring a diplomatic rupture.

Instead, he feigned ignorance about the document’s existence and whereabouts. First, he needed to determine why the Sarnican Crown Prince, who had no apparent connection to Amelia, personally authorized it.

Depending on the truth, Josef was prepared to go to war.

“Your Highness, before I explain, I must emphasize that this action was never intended as a betrayal of trust toward the Empire. I find myself equally unsettled by the situation.”

“That’s for me to decide.”

The count picked up a glass of water to moisten his dry throat. Josef calmly watched the glass tremble in the count’s unsteady hands, rattling against the tray.

“T-the document… is an asylum authorization for Lady Amelia Przhemysl of Brienne.”

“…”

“However, Your Highness, there was no political agenda involved. I swear upon my family’s honor. It was simply a favor from Prince Miguel at my son’s request, primarily to signify approval of a marriage with Lady Amelia.”

Josef, in the midst of tilting his glass of water, paused and asked,

“Marriage?”

The clueless count hastily confirmed again.

“Yes. My son obtained the asylum authorization purely for that purpose, Your Highness. The plan was to present the document to the Imperial court for discussion, but it was stolen.”

“…”

“Since the document is gone, Amelia’s departure from the Empire is now impossible. Therefore, I assure you, she will not seek asylum.”

The count stumbled over his words, desperate to emphasize that Sarnica harbored no ill will toward Olstein. In this matter, he would abide by Olstein’s decisions entirely, as it was both his diplomatic duty and his means of self-preservation.

Yet his frantic explanation dissolved into futility.

Instead, Josef’s mind was occupied by an unsettling notion: Amelia might leave the Empire as someone’s wife. A possibility he had never considered before.

Marriage… Marriage.

A sharp crack interrupted his thoughts.

“Y-Your Highness!”

Count Clavier cried out in alarm. Following his gaze, Josef looked down at his hand.

Large shards of glass were embedded in his palm. Water trickled down the transparent fragments, gradually turning red. Blood began to pool, staining the shattered glass strewn across the floor.

“Is anyone there?!”

The count spun around, calling out urgently. A chamberlain entered halfway, then fled in panic. Meanwhile, Josef calmly extracted the shards from his hand.

As he thought of Amelia, he recalled the faint cracking sound, realizing he must have crushed the glass unconsciously.

“Your Highness, are you all right…?”

Blood-drenched glass fragments dropped one by one onto the pristine tray. The spreading droplets of blood shimmered.

“How unfortunate.”

With blood dripping from his hand, Josef faintly smiled.

“Without that document, neither the asylum nor the marriage can proceed.”

The count, caught off guard, could only nod.