34.
The Crown Princess, who had personally sabotaged the indemnity negotiations and was now simmering in private anxiety, agreed to the meeting at once. Perhaps sensing she had already pushed Edwin to his limit, she approached the discussion with uncharacteristic polish.
Thanks to her innate survival instinct—a knack for knowing exactly which mask to wear—the atmosphere remained civil. She even accepted the suggestion to offer the crown as indemnity with relative ease, despite a flicker of initial hesitation.
*It’s a relief she’s reasonable.*
It was fortunate the Crown Princess understood this proposal was the final opportunity Edwin would extend. To Bellot, at least. Edwin lacked both the patience and the will to craft a more moderate or rational arrangement than this.
The Crown Princess requested only a brief delay, citing the need for the King’s authorization.
“I would like to discuss the specific details once Bellot sends a reply.”
*I can manage that much.*
Although actual power had largely shifted to the Crown Princess following Bellot’s surrender, the King was still her father.
“Very well.”
As Edwin agreed, the cloudy tension on the Crown Princess’s face lifted. It was an unexpected turn; she felt a genuine wave of relief at the prospect of the renegotiation ending peacefully. For a woman bold enough to walk through the heart of a nation she had been at war with only months ago, the sudden lightness was disorienting. She realized she had lowered her guard, and her expression stiffened once more.
Looking pale—perhaps from the lingering fatigue of the conflict—she spoke again.
“While we await the reply from home, I will have representatives sent to preside over the royal wedding.”
It was a calculated move, meant to signal that Bellot was paying its own price in the form of an ‘Imperial consort.’
*The King of Bellot has birthed a snake.*
For once, however, this sharp judgment remained locked behind his teeth.
*I heard she had a fiancé originally, but broke it off for this wedding.*
His personal opinion of the Crown Princess remained low, yet he felt a strange prick of pity. To abandon one’s lover for the sake of the state, only to enter a political marriage with a man from a nation that had just conquered yours—it was a heavy burden.
Edwin pushed the image of Ri-Na from his mind. He would never be forced into a semi-compulsory arrangement like this.
“We must hasten our own preparations.”
Edwin called for Kyle, who would serve as the matchmaker on his behalf. Kyle, waiting outside, entered with a folder containing the profiles of the candidates for the royal wedding. He lined up five sheets in front of the Crown Princess.
“Would you care to take a look?”
The Crown Princess’s gaze swept across the papers before shifting to Kyle.
“What is this?”
Faced with far more agency than she had anticipated, she asked the question like a challenge. Kyle offered an ingrained, professional smile.
“Unlike Bellot, love matches are in fashion in the Empire.”
The Crown Princess let out a dry, jagged laugh.
“I am grateful for the grace of His Majesty the Emperor, who considers my taste in men with such delicacy.”
With a cynical smile that suggested she still found the whole affair absurd, she bowed her head. Edwin accepted the gesture with a benevolent, practiced nod.
“Then, if you’ll excuse me for a moment.”
Attempting to avert the worst-case scenario, the Crown Princess began to examine the profiles. She moved through them with the clinical detachment of a woman choosing a gown for a court event. She flipped through the first four at a brisk pace, but her gaze lingered on the final sheet.
The last candidate had a humble background, but they had included him based on his raw ability and striking appearance.
“Hm?”
Noticing where her eyes had settled, Kyle asked, his tone deliberately cheerful.
“Does Sir Everett Rohas please you?”
The Crown Princess nearly denied it on instinct, but she clamped her mouth shut. This was not the place to vent her true thoughts before the Emperor. She recovered quickly, her excuse plausible.
“I heard black hair is uncommon in the Empire. I simply looked closer because he stood out.”
Kyle accepted the excuse with practiced grace.
“It is rare across the Empire, though one finds it in the East. There is a legend that the Eastern ancestors were black leopard beast-kin, known for that hair and their deep yellow eyes. Sir Rohas is of the East.”
“I see.”
Responding absently, the Crown Princess’s gaze drifted toward Edwin. Specifically, to his hair, and then his eyes.
***
When a messenger handed me a letter without a sender’s name on the cover, I felt a genuine thrill. I wondered if this was the fabled charm of an office romance.
*Could it be Everett?*
However, when I broke the seal, I couldn’t help but be flustered.
*Kailus?*
The sender was completely unexpected.
*What’s going on?*
I had been seeing Everett through a series of coincidences, but this was my first contact with Kyle since the rotten coffee incident. The letter was short: *I’d like to see you regarding the Blue Falcon.*
I had no idea what it meant, but I sent a reply back immediately, setting the time for that evening.
“I’ll find out when I get there.”
I finished my work early that day. I spent two hours trying to parse the meaning of the ‘Blue Falcon’ matter, so the end of the day arrived quickly. When I reached the cafe and pushed open the door, I was startled.
The cafe, usually a ghost town, was filled with a surprising number of customers.
“Are you here?”
Kyle, who had been serving a table, turned and greeted me with a grin so bright his eyes vanished.
“Ah, yes. Hello.”
I greeted him back, bewildered. They say he’s a man who always wears a smile, but this felt different.
“Could you please sit at a comfortable table and wait for a moment?”
He was so deeply in ‘cafe owner mode’ that I briefly wondered if this was some elaborate promotional gimmick.
*He said it was about the Blue Falcon. It wouldn’t be, would it?*
With a sense of unease, I sat at a corner table out of the line of sight. Kyle whispered something to a girl with brown hair and cute freckles, then hurried over to me.
“I’m the one who asked you to come, but I’ve kept you waiting.”
Kyle smiled, his tone clearly excited. I started to give a social pleasantry about not minding the wait, but he cut in.
“We’ve had a lot more customers lately.”
He beamed with genuine pride. It was clearly the thing he most wanted to share. The shop was indeed half-full. Given the rent in the Capital and the cost of quality ingredients, the chances of it still being in the red were high. But I held my tongue, since he looked so happy.
*The Emperor’s closest aide wouldn’t be starving just because of a cafe.*
“Indeed. It looks like it will be packed soon.”
He beamed again, as if the mere thought were a personal victory. He seemed to realize his expression had gone overboard and tried to rein it in, though he couldn’t hide the glow in his cheeks. Before he could lose his composure further, the freckled girl brought out a drink.
“This is a special coffee prepared for a precious guest.”
Kyle explained the menu I hadn’t even ordered.
*Is this what they were whispering about?*
“Thank you.”
I thanked him reflexively, though I wasn’t pleased. The cup was for me, and only water for him.
*That’s suspicious.*
Even if it wasn’t polite to look a gift horse in the mouth, the memory of his two-year-old beans was etched into my psyche. Seeing my skeptical expression, Kyle quickly clarified.
“I’ve been practicing brewing and drank so much that my doctor ordered me to abstain.”
He chattered on about developing stomach pains and insomnia after twenty cups a day.
*Twenty cups?*
It was a miracle he didn’t have a hole in his stomach.
“I practiced really hard. I felt guilty about serving you ruined coffee twice, Diaz-san, so I prepared this with that in mind.”
His voice trembled slightly at the word ‘ruined,’ which felt strangely pitiful. In the end, I picked up the cup. My hand shook involuntarily, triggered by the trauma of our last meeting, but the aroma was quite decent.
I took a cautious, tiny sip.
“Huh?”
This is…