As expected, Fiona willingly accepted the position of council member in the political body Ahazan had proposed.

There was no need for persuasion.

In fact, she had been the one to first express that, rather than raising a new king, the Selva Kingdom, now without a royal family, wished to be incorporated under the Empire’s system of governance.

As a result, the delegation accomplished the purpose of their visit more smoothly and peacefully than ever before and unexpectedly found themselves with time to spare.

On the morning Valoran Lord returned to Clodine’s side after briefly leaving to carry out Ahazan’s orders a lively festival was already in full swing around the Crystal Palace.

Even members of the lower nobility had been widely invited, and the lakeside was filled with people.

The land itself seemed alive with joy and celebration.

After enjoying the festivities well into the evening, Clodine returned to her room to change her attire.

Once the sun set and the moon rose into the darkened sky people would exchange clothes freely with those around them and conceal their faces behind prepared masks.

“It turned out rather well, didn’t it?”

Clodine showed Merian the mask she had personally decorated.

Using a pure white base she had prepared days earlier, she adorned it not with feathers but with stalks of rice, ribbons, and glittering jewels.

Not only was the mask beautifully made, it would pair perfectly with the elegant white dress she wore its abundant lace accentuating the fullness of her chest and hips.

“It’s absolutely stunning, Your Majesty.”

Smiling brightly, Merian reached for the mask in Clodine’s hands and moved to place it over her soft, delicate face.

But at that moment, Clodine caught her hand and stopped her, her eyes widening slightly.

“That’s not my mask.”

“Pardon? Then whose mask is it?”

The day before, Clodine had been dissatisfied with the mask she had made.

She had woken early and spent the entire morning crafting a new one so absorbed in the task that she had even skipped lunch.

So naturally, Merian had no idea who she had gone to such lengths for.

Clodine simply smiled softly at her.

Then, gently taking the mask from her hesitant hands, she placed it onto Merian’s face herself.

“Whose else would it be? It’s for the beautiful Miss Merian Bennett.”

“Y-Your Majesty…!”

The Selva Kingdom was highly advanced in agriculture and horticulture.

And during this season, when the rice reached its fullest ripeness, they held a grand masquerade ball.

Regardless of status, people created their own masks using golden rice stalks, stringing them like beads as they prayed for a prosperous harvest.

Because of its significance, even those without invitations could participate but anyone who did not wear a mask adorned with rice was strictly forbidden from joining.

Clodine looked at Merian, who stood there in a daze, and gently smoothed her disheveled hair.

Then her gaze dropped, studying Merian’s outfit with a thoughtful expression.

It was far too plain completely unsuitable for a masquerade.

“You may have a fuller figure than I do, but I think I have a few dresses that would suit you well.”

“Are you asking me to wear Your Majesty’s dress? I absolutely cannot.”

“Then what do you intend to do? Are you planning to commit disobedience against me?”

Clodine asked casually as she examined the dresses hanging in the wardrobe.

Disobedience, Merian faltered, unable to give any answer.

Before she could respond, Clodine had already selected an elegant yellow silk dress and approached her.

Together with the other attendants, she personally helped Merian change.

Even after dressing, Merian still looked uneasy and lost.

In the end, Clodine placed both hands on her shoulders and began to persuade her gently.

“It’s nothing unusual for an empress to attend a masquerade with a favored maid. Why are you so flustered?”

“A maid…”

At that word, Merian’s face turned pale.

“I am not Your Majesty’s maid. I am merely a tool His Majesty uses. Please do not say such improper things.”

Her words were not wrong.

But Clodine spoke again her tone firmer than before.

“To be precise, you are neither my tool nor my maid.”

And yet, despite her stern voice, her smile was breathtakingly beautiful so radiant it could almost make one’s eyes ache.

But even that beauty paled in comparison to the sincerity in her heart.

“From the day I returned to the Empire until now… if it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t have been able to reach moments like this.”

Every word Clodine spoke was filled with such genuine warmth that Merian’s expression sank heavily.

The guilt of hiding her true identity and the affection she felt, having cared for Clodine all this time welled up inside her, bringing tears to her eyes.

In that moment, Merian felt grateful that her face was hidden behind the mask Clodine had made for her.

“Merian… these days, I…”

Clodine’s cheeks flushed for a different reason.

Her gaze lowered slightly.

And as her soft pink lips parted, she spoke words that made even the listener’s heart flutter.

“I’m… very happy.”

At the sound of that word happy a flash of the past crossed Merian’s mind.

The pitiful, broken figure of Queen Clodine Penelope.

Merian pressed her lips together tightly.

The Marchioness Frigier, who had risen to power after bearing O’Neil Penelope’s first son had committed countless cruel acts.

Because of that woman, Clodine had spent years trapped in a narrow palace, enduring endless humiliation from those beneath her.

And yet, even while living in such a personal hell Clodine had still reached out to see the suffering of others.

‘You were destined to be trapped in a hell with no escape… so how…?’

A woman who, despite being a concubine, held such a low status that her face was never even known reduced to nothing more than a single line in the royal records…

That woman Merian Bennett.

No Gloria Pendrington.

A woman who had been on the brink of dying silently, along with the child in her womb, at the hands of the Marchioness.

A powerless woman, abandoned even by her adoptive father, with no one left to rely on.

Was it truly possible… to have saved someone like her?

“You’re no different from a friend to me now, Merian. With you by my side like this, I don’t need any other maids.”

There was a reason why, even after becoming Empress, Clodine had rejected every offer from prestigious families who had volunteered their daughters to serve as her attendants.

Rumors had spread that she favored only the Langham Marquess’s only daughter and Princess Anna, whom she had known since childhood but that had never been the truth.

Merian felt that if she listened any longer, she would no longer be able to hold back the tears welling beneath her mask.

Worse still, she feared that the crushing guilt inside her would overwhelm her forcing her to reveal who she truly was.

So, with trembling hands, she grasped Clodine’s soft hands firmly.

Steadying her voice with all her strength so it would not tremble, she spoke.

“Are you happy, Your Majesty?”

At the question, once again seeking to confirm her mistress’s happiness, Clodine’s eyes curved gently, shimmering with emotion.

“Yes. I am happy.”

Is that so?

Then that is enough.

Merian answered silently to herself, offering Clodine a smile more precious than tears though even that smile remained hidden behind her mask.

“I will protect Your Majesty’s happiness. Even if it costs me my life.”

Clodine looked momentarily puzzled, as the vow she received was far more solemn and heavy than she had expected.

But using her natural wit, she lightened the weight that had settled in the air.

“Then tonight, you must risk your life to be happy. Because that, too, is a way of protecting my happiness.”

Just as Clodine often smiled helplessly when looking at the emperor—

Merian now found herself smiling the same way, as if she simply couldn’t help it.

***

“With this many masked people, do you really think you can find His Majesty?”

Walking arm-in-arm with Clodine at her command, Merian spoke while elegantly concealing her masked face behind a black lace fan.

“Of course. It’ll be easy.”

“Could it be that tall man over there?”

In moments like this, Merian looked every bit like a refined young lady raised in a ducal household.

Clodine cast a subtle glance in the direction Merian indicated.

A tall, broad-shouldered man stood there, drinking, his golden mask adorned with an abundance of rice stalks.

Clodine let out a soft laugh and shook her head.

“Ahazan may be well-built, but his waist isn’t as thick as that man’s.”

“I see… Then what about the man beside him, the one with the leopard fur draped over his shoulder?”

“Hmm… He does have a striking jawline, but Ahazan’s is sharper… more refined.”

Sometimes it even feels like I might cut my hand on it.

Letting such an unfiltered remark slip from her lips, Clodine seemed completely absorbed in searching for Ahazan.

Seeing her like that, Merian couldn’t help but smile along with her.

“Let’s see… where could he possibly be—”

Thud.

“Ah—!”

“Your Majesty!”

While craning her neck to look into the distance, Clodine failed to notice someone approaching from the side and collided into him quite forcefully.

Though Merian quickly caught her, leaving her only slightly unsteady the man they had bumped into seemed to have taken the brunt of it, nearly dropping the mask he had been wearing.

“Oh—I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was—”

Clodine bent down to pick up the fallen mask.

But as she looked up her eyes met the man’s bare face.

And in that instant she froze, her words cutting off in shock.