“Since I’ve called someone as busy as yourself, I thought we might discuss something more important.”

“More important?”

“Though it hasn’t been announced yet, I can no longer receive oracles.”

Giselle was about to ask about the cure but stopped when Lydia shook her head briefly.

She seemed to still have habits from her time as Lydia’s maid. For a moment her pride was hurt, but what flowed from Lydia’s lips was too critical to worry about such things.

“I received the final oracle but haven’t announced it officially.”

“……What was the final oracle?”

“The Goddess said a child who will open a new era will be born, with eyes shining like gold and hair like spun gold threads.”

That wasn’t Giselle’s son. It was more likely to be Rozena’s child, who would be born soon. Even if “opening a new era” didn’t necessarily mean the imperial throne, it was still an extremely unpleasant oracle.

“Who knows about this oracle?”

“No one yet. I haven’t even told His Majesty.”

“Why not? I thought you were friends with Lady Rozena?”

“Lady Rozena might be good for tea time, but the empress is better for making deals, isn’t she?”

Lydia set a condition that Emily and Maria not be discriminated against in society.

“Is that all?”

“It’s important to me. Once I move to the grand duchy, I won’t be able to visit the capital as freely as now.”

Giselle nodded, saying that wouldn’t be a problem at all.

“Since this is a deal, you’ll keep the secret well? You’d better, Lydia. This isn’t just advice. I can do more than you might think, even if you become a Grand Duchess.”

Giselle delivered her cold warning and left the prayer room. Lydia recited a short prayer and sipped her cold tea. After a moment of silence, she heard the door of the adjacent prayer room open and hurried footsteps running away.

‘Please convey this well to your husband, Countess Bergman.’

Countess Bergman had been coming to pray every evening lately, worried about her husband who had gone to war.

Disliking stuffiness, Countess Bergman always prayed with the window open, and Lydia had deliberately met Giselle in the prayer room right next to hers.

Of course, she hadn’t forgotten to leave this prayer room’s window slightly open too.

Yes, she had opened it so the countess would hear.

‘Giselle will be determined to make Michael emperor. Richard, hearing about the oracle from Countess Bergman, will start paying attention to another child.’

Then the two would fight fiercely. Marital quarrels should be lovers’ quarrels, easily resolved; when they become power struggles, that’s when people truly hold knives to each other’s throats.

‘A hundred years of marriage with knives at each other’s throats.’

Giselle and Richard would never return to the feelings they had when they first began.

Wouldn’t that be hell itself?

* * *

“This will be seen as cowardly.”

“Is that important? In this situation?”

Arsen turned his head toward the sturdiest tent. Inside, sounds of breaking, groaning, and occasional screams ran rampant.

Richard was having another fit of madness similar to a seizure, but ironically, it was fortunate that his legs weren’t intact, preventing the commotion from escalating.

“My plan is simple, Count Bergman. Win as quickly as possible and return.”

To Lydia.

He could think about how to fight while preserving the emperor’s honor, but Arsen didn’t feel the need.

So he planned a surprise attack on the Fourth Prince’s camp late at night.

Count Bergman swallowed a groan. A victory with many casualties would only look more cowardly compared to the Fourth Prince’s proposal for a one-on-one duel.

But they couldn’t afford to lose either. A strategy of dragging out time wasn’t particularly good either. If Richard became completely insane, winning would be meaningless.

“……Let’s do it your way.”

Hearing another bestial howl from Richard’s tent, Count Bergman lowered his head.

Arsen drew his sword. This would be the last battle he fought as Richard’s sword.

And that night, Arsen took the Fourth Prince’s head in half a day.

* * *

A knight who risked his life charging at the enemy commander. A cowardly emperor hiding behind such a knight.

‘Is this better than being called worse than my brother who at least tried to protect his people’s lives?’

Richard couldn’t tell. The feeling of becoming stupider by the day was probably not just a feeling.

In reality, Richard’s judgment had slowed, and his memory had holes. Would he eventually fail to recognize even his own child?

The rage that had burned like fire was extinguished, crushed by the fear that surged like a broken dam.

He was truly afraid. What frightened him most was that twelve times a day, he wanted to prostrate himself at Lydia’s feet and beg for medicine, willing to give anything.

“Count Bergman.”

At his weak voice, Bergman slightly raised his head to look at Richard.

Seeing the emperor with a loser’s face despite returning victorious, the count’s heart grew as heavy as a defeated general’s.

“Send a letter to the empress. Tell her to prepare for an award ceremony immediately upon our return.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

There was no need to ask who would receive what award. Naturally, it would be conferring a grand ducal title to Arsen. Bitter as it was, Arsen certainly deserved a great reward.

Wasn’t he the hero who defeated the enemy in a single night?

He had spitefully handed over the task of capturing the Kingdom of Quecini’s remnants entirely to the First Knight Order, but neither Bergman nor the Commander of the First Knight Order could say a word to Arsen.

Bergman tried to shake off his ominous feeling that the Empire would be divided after the ceremony.

* * *

Waaah— A huge cheer erupted.

Richard forced a smile and waved, but knowing this grand ovation was for Arsen made his insides twist.

Even though he, the emperor, waved in response, Arsen just sat rigidly, passing through the welcoming crowd with an indifferent face. Yet people everywhere called out Arsen’s name.

Richard kept raising his increasingly distorted eyebrows.

Let’s get this over with quickly. Once he’s tucked away in a corner of the Empire, the attention on Arsen will fade.

After getting the cure from the temple and treating this damned disease, he could re-establish imperial authority.

No matter how high a grand duke’s position, it couldn’t compare to the emperor. Having thoroughly rationalized this, Richard changed into ceremonial clothes as soon as he returned to the palace and immediately held the ceremony.

The ceremony felt rushed, but neither Richard nor Arsen had any complaints. Richard had not the slightest desire to hold a grand ceremony, and Arsen just wanted to leave the imperial palace quickly to go to Lydia.

“Without Margrave Bayern, this war would have dragged on.”

He absolutely did not say Arsen was the main hero of the victory. He only said Arsen had contributed by hastening a war they would have won anyway.

“Therefore, I shall bestow upon him a fitting reward.”

There were none of the usual empty praises. He knew intellectually that displaying the image of a generous emperor here would clearly establish the master-servant relationship between himself and Arsen, but taking action was difficult.

With an expression and gesture that anyone could see showed his reluctance, he picked up the ceremonial sword. The blunt sword struck each of Arsen’s shoulders in turn.

“I hereby appoint Margrave Arsen Edis Bayern as grand duke and elevate his territory to a grand duchy.”

“I am deeply grateful for Your Majesty’s grace.”

Except for the empress and a few nobles who already knew Arsen would receive the grand ducal title, everyone gasped in surprise. They had expected a ducal title at most, but a grand duke?

Was Arsen’s contribution really great enough to warrant a grand ducal title? Or did the emperor have some weakness exploited?

Though unspoken, their faces already showed interest.

As he swallowed a sigh, thinking about quelling false rumors, a maid urgently grabbed Count Bergman and whispered something, after which Bergman approached Richard with a serious face.

“Your Majesty.”

He deliberately announced in a loud voice.

“The imperial consort has given birth to a healthy prince, I am told.”

“The imperial consort? Now?”

“Yes, urgent news has come from the Herington viscounty.”

With this, the ceremony became even more chaotic. Arsen didn’t care either way, but from Richard’s perspective, it was quite satisfying to divert attention and congratulations from Arsen elsewhere.

Moreover, as he hurriedly left the palace, the ceremony ended abruptly. Thinking he had exacted a small revenge made him feel a bit better, though it was petty.

“But why did Rozena go to the Herington viscounty instead of the imperial palace?”

Only after boarding the carriage heading to the Herington viscounty did Richard express his displeasure. Rozena had fallen out of Richard’s favor for a while because of her friendship with Lydia.

Seeing Rozena automatically reminded him of Lydia, so he deliberately avoided Rozena’s quarters for a while, unable to speak kindly to her. But even so, for the emperor’s child to be born at a viscounty instead of the imperial palace!

“I heard she went because she felt more comfortable near her mother, but it seems there might be another reason.”

“Another reason? What?”

“In my opinion, she seems to have fled to escape Her Majesty the Empress.”