“That’s exactly my point. We’re newlyweds. It wouldn’t do for us to suddenly live miles apart.”

Ahazan crossed his thick arms over his chest. His face tilted slightly as he glared at the sky, the sharp line of his jaw more pronounced than ever.

“As Emperor and Empress, it’s certainly not a model example for the people of the Empire.”

He emphasized the word certainly as he looked at Clodine.

She let out a small snort of laughter.

“And since when have we ever shown such exemplary conduct?”

She meant their marriage the truth both of them knew too well.

Ahazan had no rebuttal. He merely shrugged and glanced elsewhere.

Clodine watched him, the smile fading from her face.

“Ahazan, it wasn’t only because I loved you that I wanted to become Empress.”

The sudden shift caught his attention. His gaze sharpened.

Clodine parted her lips slightly, choosing her words before continuing.

“It’s an old dream of mine… to become a respected Empress and govern rightly alongside you for the sake of the people.”

Even when she had suddenly been married off to the Crown Prince of Rotermann, she had endured by immersing herself entirely in the role of queen. Having been trained her entire life to become Empress of the Empire, living as a queen had not been unbearable.

To wield authority without *buse. 

To use power for the people. 

To earn respect and uphold dignity.

That was the Empress she believed in. And she still held that dream close.

“Then and now, I’ve always believed you would become a good Emperor.”

It was not merely because she loved him.

She knew too well how desperately he had struggled, since childhood, not to resemble his own father, a cruel Emperor to both family and people.

Had he been a coward who valued only his own life, he could never have spent ten years fighting on the battlefield.

“That means, no matter how cruel you may be to me…”

She stepped closer.

Her pale, soft hand lifted to gently caress his cheek.

“…I have no choice but to stand on your side.”

Ahazan’s lips tightened. Heat flared in his gaze as he covered her small hand with his large one.

“I’ll go with you.”

Clodine glanced briefly at his hand gripping hers, then met his eyes again.

“Wherever you’re going. No matter how dangerous.”

The words might have sounded like a confession of love.

Yet the strength had already left her fingers. If he were not holding them, her hand would have fallen limply away.

And her voice no longer carried the same fearless conviction as before.

“…I will go as Empress of the Empire.”

Not as Ahazan’s lover. 

Not as his wife. 

But as the Empress of the Van Helsing Empire, accompanying her Emperor.

It was a desperate vow not to lean on his promise to protect her with his life.

Clodine Ramier and Clodine Penelope had both met tragic ends because they could not abandon love.

Clodine von Lernando must be different.

“I believe I’ve made myself clear. Let’s return.”

Avoiding his penetrating stare, she tried to pull her hand free.

For a moment, it seemed to loosen.

Then his grip tightened firm, unyielding.

Startled, she looked up.

With eyes both gentle and sharp, he captured her gaze and brought her palm to his lips.

The kiss, disguised as something simple, lingered softly against her skin.

“If you’re coming with me, you cannot be only Empress.”

Under the blazing sun, his eyes burned with unmistakable purpose.

“And I have no intention of being merely your Emperor.”

His lips brushed her palm again, slow, indulgent, far sweeter than teasing.

“But thank you. I’m deeply glad you’ll stand beside me, in whatever way.”

His smile was soft as petals heavy with dew.

“You will never regret this decision, Clodine.”

A troublesome warmth fluttered low in her abdomen. She steadied herself, forcing strength into her knees.

As though she felt nothing.

As though she could easily scorn the pleasure he offered.

Ahazan, he was a love she could neither cast aside nor escape.

And so, this time, Clodine von Lernando resolved that she would bury that love.

Even if it meant denying it with everything she had.

***

“Gifts of thanks from the noble ladies for last week’s memorial offerings are arriving one after another, Your Majesty.”

Merian spoke as she gently ran her hand over the largest and undoubtedly most valuable gift among them, the one sent by the Duchess of Brighton.

“Goodness… I have never seen such a magnificent cabinet in my life.”

For Merian, who was not easily impressed, to speak with such genuine admiration was rare.

The cabinet sent by Alua Brighton through her son-in-law was a lavish yet solid piece of furniture. Its frame was made from lightning-struck walnut wood something said to appear perhaps once in a century and all five visible surfaces were adorned with lustrous mother-of-pearl inlay.

Clodine continued writing without pause, a soft smile resting on her lips. Since early morning, she had been seated at her desk in the study, drafting letters of gratitude to the noble ladies for their gifts.

“Place that cabinet in my bedchamber,  at an angle visible to anyone walking through the corridor.”

The noblewomen of the Empire never ceased their chatter. The story that the Duchess of Brighton had gifted the Empress such a splendid cabinet would surely spread across the capital before the sun reached its zenith.

I should invite them to the palace soon, she thought, signing the final letter with a large, elegant flourish. And just happen to stroll past the bedchamber with them.

“That concludes the letters. Let us go see His Majesty. There is much to discuss regarding the coming journey.”

Having informed Merian of her destination, Clodine wrapped the lace shawl she had set aside around her bare arms and left the room.

They said this year was not merely mild, but warm compared to previous years.

Clodine found herself thinking it might be true as she walked leisurely along the sunlit colonnade. The morning sunlight already carried a gentle heat.

Dressed in a sleeveless gown as bright as the blue sky above, Clodine appeared more radiant than ever. When she had first arrived in the Empire, she had been painfully thin. Now, she had filled out slightly, her complexion fair and healthy, like a swallow newly nourished by spring.

Though naturally slender and far from voluptuous, that delicate figure suited her modest and refined temperament all the more.

As she walked beside Merian, they discussed the supplies necessary for the long journey ahead. While passing the training grounds, deeply absorbed in conversation, Clodine’s wandering gaze suddenly caught sight of a familiar back.

She stopped at once.

Her brows drew together as she stared intently into the distance, as though confirming whether the figure in her mind and the one before her were truly the same person.

As if sensing her gaze, the man turned and looked directly toward her.

Recognition came instantly.

“Lord Valoran?”

“Your Majesty!”

Though they were too far apart to hear one another’s voices, their lips shaped the words clearly enough.

Naturally, it was Lord Valoran who hurried over, kneeling at once in greeting.

“I pay my respects to Her Majesty the Empress.”

“How are you here?”

Clodine asked quickly, relief and concern mingling in her voice.

Unlike the last time she had seen him at the funeral, Valoran now appeared neatly groomed his hair and beard trimmed, looking as composed as he had in the Kingdom.

“By His Majesty’s command, I have been granted the honor of serving as Your Majesty’s closest guard during this expedition. It would have been proper to seek you out and greet you sooner, but I was ordered to remain on standby.”

Valoran was not one to display emotion easily. Yet Clodine could hear the unmistakable brightness in his voice. Relief. Gratitude. Even joy.

They did not need to exchange trivial words; their unspoken concern for one another was conveyed plainly enough.

“You must have endured much, you did not fall ill while in prison, did you?”

“Prison?”

Valoran repeated the word, lifting his head.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, tilting his head in confusion.

“Did Your Majesty believe I had been imprisoned all this time?”