“The boots seem slightly loose on Your Majesty. I shall have a narrower pair brought at once.”

“I tightened them as much as possible. Are they still too large?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Merian instructed a servant to fetch a smaller size of riding boots. While they waited, she raised another matter, something Clodine had ordered the previous afternoon.

“When would you like to meet the rose cultivators, Your Majesty? According to the registry of the capital, there are quite a few farms in nearby provinces. Procuring a large quantity should not be difficult.”

“As soon as possible. Send word to the farms today, if you can. Even this week would be fine. And remember, no red roses. Only white.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I will make certain of it.”

After a brief pause, Merian asked cautiously.

“May I ask what you intend to do with so many white roses?”

Standing before the mirror, Clodine ran her fingers over the tightly laced corset of her riding habit and replied calmly,

“I intend to express my respect.”

“Respect? For whom?”

The number Clodine had requested, one hundred thousand white roses, was no small amount. It was enough to empty every white-rose farm in the Empire. Merian’s curiosity only deepened.

Clodine met her gaze through the mirror.

“For all the people of the Empire.”

Merian’s eyes widened.

“All… of them?”

“Yes. I plan to hold a nationwide memorial for the young knights and soldiers who gave their lives defending the Empire from the rebels.”

“My goodness… I had no idea you were preparing something like that.”

Lowering her eyes slightly, Clodine continued in a quiet voice.

“Whatever I am within this Empire, their noble sacrifice deserves to be remembered and honored.”

Merian nodded in understanding. Now the reason for Clodine’s long hours spent reviewing the names of the fallen made sense.

“For families of knights who received formal titles, we shall send flowers and elegies in person. As for common soldiers… I am thinking of establishing mourning stations throughout the plazas, so that anyone may take a flower and pay their respects.”

“That is a wonderful idea, Your Majesty. I will arrange meetings with the growers at the earliest possible time.”

Just then, the servant returned with the boots. This pair fit perfectly without excessive tightening. Once fully dressed, Merian gathered Clodine’s long black hair and bound it firmly at the back.

“Your Majesty truly suits riding attire.”

Freed from the usual gowns that emphasized her curves, Clodine’s natural elegance and noble bearing stood out all the more. It was difficult to say which attire suited her better.

She had occasionally worn riding clothes in childhood, before the accident that left her fearful of horses. But since becoming an adult, this was her first time.

The snug fabric pressed against her slender frame, and the reality of standing near a horse soon settled in.

‘Hesitation will only prolong Lord Valoran’s confinement.’

Clodine rubbed her cold, damp palms together and forced herself to breathe evenly. Then, with deliberate steps that echoed sharply against the floor, she left the room.

***

Unlike Clodine, whose attire was impeccable enough for immediate mounting, Ahazan appeared casually dressed in a loose white shirt, riding trousers, and boots. Bathed in sunlight against the wide green plain, he looked younger than his years, radiating a vitality that defied ordinary measure.

Clodine avoided looking at him, fixing her gaze instead on the horse walking at his side. It was not the large white stallion from yesterday, but a smaller black pony.

“I wish to spend some private time with the Empress. All of you may withdraw.”

Ahazan addressed the gathered attendants before he even greeted her.

“There’s no need to go that far—”

Before Clodine could finish, the servants had already dispersed at once.

Left alone in the vast field, she felt suddenly self-conscious, arms crossing over herself unconsciously.

“Go on, say hello. He’ll be your partner from today onward. His name is Alsendas, but we call him Sandy.”

He moved the conversation forward so naturally that Clodine lost her chance to object. Trying not to show her unease, she focused on the pony.

But the fear she had forced down began creeping back into her veins.

Sandy may have been small for a horse, but he was still far larger than a person. Clodine’s shoulders drew in instinctively.

Ahazan stroked the glossy coat of the pony and said gently, 

“Sandy. This is my wife, Clodine.”

Clodine had not expected such tenderness in his voice. Startled, she found herself staring at the line of his profile as if spellbound. His gaze, however, remained fixed on Sandy’s eyes.

“Clodine won’t hurt you. So you mustn’t hurt her either. Never.”

Only then did he lift his eyes to meet hers, his large hand still resting against the horse’s back.

“She’s very important to me. Understood, Sandy?”

He said it deliberately and pressed a light kiss to the pony’s brow. Yet his eyes never left Clodine’s face. For an inexplicable moment, she felt as though his lips had brushed her own skin instead. A faint shiver raced along her spine, the fine hairs on her back rising. She trembled ever so slightly.

Ahazan seemed to mistake her reaction for fear of the horse.

“Sandy is gentle and well-tempered. He often helps when teaching children how to ride.”

He extended one hand toward her. Clodine placed her hand carefully in his. He turned her palm upward, covering it with his own, and guided her hand to stroke Sandy’s coat.

The coarse texture surprised her.

“Ah—”

A small sound slipped from her lips before she could stop it. Ahazan laughed softly, then whispered in a voice as sweet as one used to soothe a child.

“It’s all right. I’m here.”

He had already stepped close behind her. The position was almost an embrace, as though he were wrapping himself around her from the back. His movements were fl*id and natural, guiding her hand as if she were a doll in his grasp.

“He likes to be stroked gently like this. Just like someone else I know.”

His low voice settled near her ear, far too suggestive for the situation. Clodine did not need a mirror to know her face had flushed. She could not pretend not to understand who he meant.

Once the thought took hold, it was impossible to dismiss. The solid warmth of Ahazan’s body against her back felt dangerously hot. It had been some time since they had last shared a night together.

‘Did he dismiss everyone just for this?’

She squeezed her eyes shut for a brief second and exhaled through her nose, trying to steady her thoughts.

At that moment, his other hand slid down from her narrow waist to her hips, resting against the gentle curve of her pelvis.

“A-Ahazan…!”

“It feels like you might break if I apply any pressure.”

His hands were large, larger than most men’s. He easily spanned one side of her hip and spoke with a mock note of concern.

“With such a slender waist and fragile hips, I wonder if you can endure riding for long.”

Clodine knew little about horseback riding. She had no way of knowing whether his concern was genuine. Unable to judge his intent, she could only endure in silence.

“Before you begin riding in earnest, you’ll need separate training with me. To build your stamina and flexibility.”

At that, Clodine pulled slightly from his hold and turned around. The thought of the horse behind her made her unconsciously step closer, until her body nearly brushed against his.

Looking up at him from such proximity, she saw unmistakable amusement flickering in his eyes, like a child delighted with a new toy.

Suspicion stirred within her.

“What sort of training do I need? That kind of thing could be taught by an instructor, rather than by you—”

She never finished the sentence.

His voice cut in sharply, freezing her tongue in place.

“Who else do you plan to do that coarse and intimate training with, if not me?”