[To my dear Anita,

It’s been a while since I left Callithea. How is Asta at the Mirabel Palace these days? I still remember the beautiful garden there, it was like your smile.

The figs are ripening here in Laxion. I’ve tried lots of things made with them, like pies, jams, and cream-filled tarts, but none of them taste as good as the ones we shared together. They say Laxion’s figs are the finest, but they never quite taste the same. Perhaps it’s because you’re not here.

Whenever I find myself in a quiet place like this, writing letters, I end up thinking of you. There’s so much I want to say, but if I tried to write it all down, this letter would never end! So instead, I’ve made you something: jam made from the ripest, sweetest fruit I could find, sealed in a small jar. Eat it when you think of me.

I hope my little gift brings you some joy.

— Cedric Fion]

··· ✦ ···

The court scribe fidgeted nervously in front of the Crown Prince. Although he was only eight years old, he stood before the court scribe with an air of sternness far beyond his years.

“Did you pack it carefully? If it breaks, it’ll be your responsibility. Don’t forget that.”

“Your Highness, I followed your instructions. The letter was wrapped in layers of cotton and cloth before being sent. You need not worry.”

“I can’t trust that, I told you to show it to me before sending it, but you disobeyed my order.”

The scribe bowed deeply, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. No matter how young the Crown Prince was, he was someone no one in the court could afford to cross.

“My deepest apologies, Your Highness. Next time, I will make sure to present it to you before sending it.”

“You’d better, If this happens again—”

“Cedric. That’s enough.”

The clear, calm voice that interrupted him belonged to a woman.

Cedric’s stern expression melted into a smile as he turned towards her.

“Mother!”

The woman who met his gaze shone like sunlight itself. Her silver hair caught the light, and her silver eyes seemed to change color depending on the light: golden in the sunshine and smoky grey in the shade.

Unlike the Emperor’s eyes, which had a faint blue tint, hers were pure and luminous said to be the kind belonging to the goddess of wisdom in ancient myth.

She was Ines, Empress of Laxion and Cedric’s mother.

“Cedric.”

She said gently but firmly as she brushed her hand over her son’s dark hair.

“Everyone here has their duties. They can’t always drop everything to listen to you.”

“…I know.”

His lips puffed in protest, but when she gave his hair a tender stroke, Cedric relented, nodding with quiet acceptance.

“That’s my boy. Now, come. Let’s go back together.”

Ines stopped scolding him. Instead, she took his small hand in hers. Delighted, Cedric looked up at her, all traces of his earlier severity gone.

The scribe and the nearby attendants watched them and exchanged quiet smiles, it was such a natural and endearing sight for an eight-year-old boy.

“Are we going for a walk today, Mother?”

Cedric’s eyes lit up as Empress Ines led him towards the gardens. Eager to contain his excitement, he looked up at her and asked.

“Are we really going to the garden?”

The empress’s expression softened slightly, seeming to hold a hint of sorrow, before she nodded.

“Yes, I did promise, didn’t I?”

It was only natural for an empress to be busy. Yet even among foreign sovereigns, Ines’s schedule was unmatched in its demands.

“Your Majesty, these are the reports submitted by the regional inspectors. Please review them.”
“Who will you appoint to oversee the upcoming banquet, Your Majesty?”
“These are the new tutors selected for His Highness the Crown Prince. Once you’ve chosen among them, we’ll arrange suitable quarters.”
“Your Majesty, it’s said that the new law is ineffective in the provinces. Revision may be required, what are your thoughts?”

Such matters consumed her days, a consequence of her deep involvement in Laxion’s politics.

Born into a minor noble family, she lost her parents and their fortune at an early age. However, blessed with exceptional intellect, she entered the palace at a young age with the help of her relative, the powerful aristocrat Marquis Sez, and began working as a court official.

Thanks to her brilliance and perseverance, she rose through the ranks to become the first woman ever to be appointed Chief Auditor of Finance within the imperial household.

“Ines Narmang. She has everything except a powerful name. The most gifted and beautiful woman in the court, there is nothing she cannot do.”

Her rise to power was unprecedented and attracted a great deal of attention. The newly crowned Emperor, Charles, was among those most captivated by her.

“Ines, this time you must accept my proposal.”

From the moment he laid eyes on her, the Emperor was hopelessly in love. Despite opposition from his councilors, he courted her relentlessly.

Initially, Inés was reluctant, feeling overwhelmed by the prospect of marrying the Emperor, but the Emperor’s sincerity, his respect for her abilities, and his promise that she could serve her nation as empress eventually won her over.

“Ungrateful woman! That wretch Ines, how dare she betray me? Betray my house! That throne was meant for Ameline!”

“What are we to do? Poor Ameline… she’s loved His Majesty since before his coronation. How could this happen?”

Although her marriage to the Emperor had irreparably damaged her relationship with the Sez family, who had once supported her, Ines paid it no mind. Despite her gratitude, she and the Marquis had always disagreed on many things.

“Not all doctrines are just. Take this one, for example: How can a sin committed by a woman be punished more severely than one committed by a man?”

“But Your Majesty, the Goddess’s teachings say that women must be pure and obedient to their husbands. It is only natural that they should face harsher punishment for adultery.”

‘Cutting a woman’s tendons and imprisoning her for life, how is that merely a “harsher” punishment? When a man commits adultery, he pays a fine at most. Change it. This is a wicked law.’

The Marquis of Sez and his entire household were devout followers of the Asterian faith.

However, Ines did not reject religion outright; she simply did not revere or worship the goddess. She valued human reason and logic above all else and prioritized cultural progress and efficient legislation over unseen divinities.

“The Empress is an atheist? What a curse upon the empire!”
“She claims she does not deny the goddess, yet refuses to recognize Her as a divine being, what hypocrisy!”

Her stance provoked fierce opposition. Some of the nobility and clergy in Laxion even accused her of being a witch.

However, unlike Callithea, which had enshrined Asterianism as its state religion since its foundation and permitted no blasphemy, Laxion had been torn apart by religious conflict a century earlier.

The subsequent war, which culminated in massacres such as the one at the Cathedral of Exisio, left deep scars. Many citizens had since become weary and distrustful of religious zeal.

Among the new aristocracy, young officials, university scholars and their students, and the thriving merchant class, faith in the goddess was weak, if it existed at all. While most no longer voiced their doubts, they shared a quiet skepticism.

“The nation’s welfare must come first. Belief in the goddess is a matter of personal conscience and should not be controlled by the state.”

To them, the Empress was a symbol of reason and progress. Those who had remained silent for a long time began to speak up, one by one. Ines recruited the most intelligent of those people as her aides and strove to reform Laxion according to her ideals.

The empire’s politics gradually split into two clear factions. In terms of numbers alone, the old guard should have prevailed, but it was Emperor Charles’ unwavering support that kept the balance of power intact.

··· ✦ ···

“Are your lessons enjoyable, Cedric?”

Ines asked as they walked through the garden path lined with pale blossoms.

“Most of them are, but I dislike the religious lectures from Priest Jeniac. He says you’re wrong, Mother and he keeps trying to convince me of it.”

“Is that so?”

She murmured, smiling faintly. Cedric did not believe his mother was wrong. That was precisely why he resented anyone who dared to contradict her.

“Cedric.”

Ines said softly, brushing a leaf from his shoulder.

“There’s no need to be angry over such things. People all have different thoughts and beliefs.”

“……”

“Priest Jeniac is a good man. I chose him myself to be your teacher. He’s a learned scholar who never hesitates to live by his convictions. You’ve seen the scars on his arm, haven’t you? He got those burns when he ran into a burning orphanage to save the children.”

“But still…”

Cedric muttered, frowning, his small hands clenched at his sides.

“Don’t reject someone simply because they disagree with you or with me especially you, Cedric. You must learn to listen to everyone. But listening alone isn’t enough, you must also think for yourself, judge, and decide.”

“……”

“That is the price you must pay for everything you’ve been given.”

“……”

“So study hard! You, more than anyone, cannot afford to be foolish or careless. Mistakes and surrender are luxuries you cannot afford. Every privilege comes with responsibility, and it is your duty to take it on.”

Although she was at the heart of Laxion’s reformist faction, Ines harbored little animosity towards her rivals. In fact, she often sided with her opponents if their arguments were sound. This habit earned her the resentment of some of her own followers, yet others — regardless of faction — respected her for her fairness.

“Your Majesty!”

They had been walking for perhaps half an hour when a breathless official appeared before them in the garden. Bowing deeply, he whispered something into the Empress’s ear.

“I’m sorry, Cedric.”

Ines murmured, letting out a quiet sigh. She called for someone nearby, then gently brushed her son’s hair.

Cedric’s smile faltered for an instant, but he quickly brightened again.

“It’s all right.”

Proud of his composure, Ines touched his cheek, her cool hand drawing a contented sigh from the boy. He placed his small hand atop hers, reluctant to let the warmth go.

“Your Majesty, I have come as summoned.”

A familiar figure approached them soon after. Cedric’s face lit up as he waved enthusiastically.

“Nanny Shisha!”

Shisha Yullente, the woman with the soft, silver-blond hair that gleamed like water. She had nursed Cedric since infancy and spent more hours by his side than the Empress herself.

“Then I’ll leave him in your care, Shisha.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

With that, the Empress turned and left. Standing beside his nurse, Cedric watched his mother’s figure recede down the colonnade. The hem of her gown fluttered like a pale flame in the wind until she finally vanished.