15.
“Glory to Belerov. I greet the Sun of the Empire.”
“May the protection of the Sun God be with his descendant forever….”
The Emperor ignored the chorus of greetings and approached his daughter.
“Your Majesty, is your business concluded?”
Philomel asked with a bright smile.
“Yes. Let’s head back.”
Having no patience for banquets, the Emperor, as was his custom, departed as soon as the ball began in earnest.
He had likely been engaged in back-channel discussions with high-ranking nobles, including Duke Abridon. In the interim, it was the Princess’s duty to attend to the guests.
The Princess, who had been trailing the Emperor, turned to offer a final, polished farewell.
“I wish you all a pleasant evening.”
Her exit was impeccable, devoid of a single flaw. Princess Philomel stepped out of the ballroom with her usual elegant, upright gait.
Once they were settled in the Emperor’s carriage, a clear, quiet voice broke the silence.
“I hear Countess Lusan’s condition has improved significantly. It seems the medicinal treatment from Elita proved effective once again. Given that the epidemic is creeping toward the southern borders, shouldn’t we expedite the distribution of that medicine?”
“I see. I will issue the necessary instructions tomorrow.”
Philomel had carefully curated and summarized the intelligence she gathered while Eustis was occupied.
She reported everything from social tidbits—such as a certain Marquis welcoming a late-born daughter—to political rumors regarding a Count’s attempt to secure an alliance through marriage with a foreign ambassador.
The topics were diverse. She exercised discretion, filtering out trivialities and reporting only what was necessary for the Emperor’s ears. For matters where the importance was ambiguous, she kept her summaries concise.
It had taken considerable effort to master this simple yet delicate task.
When she finished, Eustis’s deep blue eyes fixed on her.
“You’ve worked hard.”
It was a compliment she heard often.
“Thank you.”
Philomel responded habitually.
Lately, her relationship with Eustis had been better than ever. They often shared meals and tea; while she usually initiated these meetings, the Emperor had recently begun to inquire about her schedule first.
Philomel walked a precarious line, balanced on the edge of a cliff. She strove to be neither so distant as to be forgotten, nor so close as to be a nuisance.
The limits were immovable. Not being a blood relative, Philomel could never be the cherished daughter Ellensia was.
Yet, after pushing herself to the brink of exhaustion, she had finally carved out a space where she was recognized in her own right.
“Now that I think of it, your birthday is approaching.”
Unexpectedly, Eustis brought it up first. He must have been prompted by Count Polan.
“Is there anything you would like as a gift?”
Finally, the moment had arrived.
Philomel swallowed hard. The time to set her long-standing plan into motion was here. She could not let it show that she had been waiting for this opportunity, so she began with a reflexive refusal.
“A gift? You need not trouble yourself every year. The ring you gave me is more than enough.”
Philomel extended her right hand.
The red gem on her middle finger glowed with a brilliant, inner fire. The Solar Flare Ring: a vital component of Philomel’s escape.
Last year, as promised, Eustis had gifted it to her.
“Not that.”
The answer was immediate.
“If you insist….”
The words rose to her throat, but she feigned a moment of hesitation.
“Rather than a material gift, there is something I would like Your Majesty to do for me.”
“And what is that?”
“Well, at the Utina Palace….”
“Utina Palace? Now that you mention it, you have visited often. Very well. I shall gift it to you.”
“No! That’s not it.”
She quickly intercepted the impulsive Emperor before he could deed her an entire palace. What would she do with such a sprawling, immovable gift? She couldn’t exactly tuck a palace into her pocket when she made her run.
“Then what is it?”
Philomel paused, then looked up with a shy, tentative expression.
“It’s just…. I would like to take a spring outing to the palace with you this time.”
“With me…?”
Eustis’s eyes widened.
Though they had shared tea and meals, this was the first time she had requested they travel together for several days.
“If you are busy, please feel free to refuse! I can go alone.”
Philomel’s gaze drifted to her lap.
“It’s just… the scenery was so beautiful when I visited before. I wanted to show it to you.”
Her voice thinned.
“I realized we have never been on a trip together….”
She had to create an atmosphere that was nearly impossible to reject.
“….But I suppose it’s an impossible request, isn’t it?”
She had no certainty. Philomel’s birthday fell on the anniversary of Empress Isabella’s death. Every year, the Emperor’s mood would hit rock bottom; her gifts were usually sent via Count Polan.
Still, the possibility of a “yes” was not zero. Lately, he had been attempting to play the role of a guardian, and he was not the type to retract his word.
*Please, say yes. Just say yes.*
Her heart hammered as she watched Eustis.
“….I did not say it was impossible. We shall go.”
“Truly? Thank you! I am so happy.”
“Are you so happy, then?”
“Ah. I apologize. I got a little carried away.”
She had believed she was adept at masking her emotions, but with the finish line in sight, her composure was fraying.
“No need to apologize. However, there was a political meeting scheduled for that day.”
He was right. A meeting was indeed slated for her birthday. It was a fact even she, in her limited involvement in state affairs, was aware of.
“It is fine. We can hold the outing after the meeting. The scenery will not vanish just because we are a day or two late.”
What mattered was getting Eustis to the palace. She had never expected him to agree to a trip on the very anniversary of his wife’s death.
“Then your birthday will have passed.”
“Yes? Ah, true. But state affairs are more important….”
Eustis narrowed his brows at her words.
Had she said something wrong? She retraced the conversation, but found nothing amiss.
Diplomatic trade issues needed to be addressed with the ministers as soon as the Elita envoys arrived. The schedule was rigid; naturally, the outing would be delayed. Besides, she assumed he would prefer to avoid the anniversary entirely.
“We will hold the political meeting at the palace.”
“….Yes?”
“I will order the Elita envoys to head to Utina instead. Since they are departing from the port, the distance is much the same.”
….Why go through such a cumbersome ordeal?
“What about the ministers?” Philomel asked, pointing out the most glaring logistical flaw.
“They will naturally have to accompany us.”
The Emperor replied with a casual indifference, as if wondering why she was asking about something so obvious.
“The ministers will follow us to Utina…?”
“Yes.”
My goodness. He was going to drag a whole retinue with him.
Since the ministers were nobles, they wouldn’t arrive alone. They would bring their secretaries, their servants, their assistants.
A massive, suffocating procession formed in her mind.
*This isn’t an outing anymore, is it?*
“….Wouldn’t that be overly complicated?”
“I only need the ministers involved in the diplomacy. The palace has more than enough space to accommodate them and their staff.”
As someone who had visited for years, she knew all too well that Utina Palace was cavernously, unnecessarily huge.
Philomel felt a headache blooming, but she stifled her objection. What mattered was that Eustis was going. Even if the process was absurd and unreasonable, there was no need to fight it.
“Very well. Let’s do that. This will be a grand outing, then.”
“Once the meeting is concluded, I will send those flies back immediately.”
“There’s no need for that…. It is nice to receive well-wishes from many people.”
“They are a distraction.”
She felt a flicker of sympathy for the ministers who would be dragged all the way to the palace, only to be treated as an irritation.
Still, what could she do? The Emperor she served was relentlessly self-centered.
On second thought, having a crowd might actually be more helpful for the plan she had in mind. As for why Eustis was so adamant about her birthday… she decided not to overthink it. It was likely just his nature—he couldn’t be satisfied unless the gift was delivered exactly as he intended.
Philomel pushed her emotions down and turned her gaze toward the passing landscape outside the carriage.