Chapter 21
When the brothers stepped outside the building, Count Calvain’s carriage had just arrived at the entrance as well. Before the coachman could even open the door, the count opened it himself and stepped out; his face was still streaked with tears that had yet to dry. Lionel’s expression hardened.
“What happened, Count Cal—”
Count Calvain closed his eyes and slowly shook his head.
“Why did the Empress summon you?”
The count, his throat feeling as though it were being strangled, barely managed to draw a breath and could not easily open his mouth.
“Count. What is the matter?”
Lionel strode up and grasped the count’s gaunt shoulders.
The old count was a man who deserved ample respect. He was not someone who should be ignored in such a miserable state. Just as something heavy and hot surged up from deep within his chest and was about to spill out of his mouth, the count took something out from inside his coat and held it out before the brothers.
When Lionel and Theseus looked down at what he was offering with puzzled expressions, the count opened the pouch himself to show them what was inside. Four gleaming chunks of gold. The two men immediately lifted their gazes to look at him.
“She gave me this. She told me to use it to ask the neighboring territories to take in my people.”
Tears welled up in the deep furrows of the old count’s wrinkles. He tucked the pouch of gold back into his coat and forced a smile.
“I am deeply indebted to the two of you. I stopped by to offer my thanks, and I will now return straight to my territory. As Her Majesty the Empress said, I must evacuate the people as quickly as possible, even for a single moment my heart is too impatient to linger. Thank you for all you have done.”
After bowing deeply to the two men, he turned his body to climb back into the carriage.
“Please wait a moment, Count Calvain.”
Theseus called out to him urgently. He then took a heavy pouch from the butler’s hands and placed it into the arms of Count Calvain, who turned back with a puzzled expression.
“I am sorry I cannot be of direct help.”
Count Calvain shook his head and grasped the young duke’s shoulders with both hands.
“Please do not do this, Duke. You make this old man endlessly ashamed.”
“Evacuating the people of your territory will require a great deal of money. Haven’t you already used up all your funds?”
The cord of emotion that had been strangling the count’s throat finally snapped. He buried his face against the duke’s shoulder and broke down in sobs. Life sometimes brings even the strongest people to their knees. Before the calamity of a natural disaster, even a count who had upheld his dignity with rigid integrity his entire life collapsed. Tears poured down endlessly, soaking the front of the young duke’s clothes. Theseus silently accepted the count’s weeping.
By the time the sobbing, which had seemed as though it would never end, gradually subsided, the late-summer sunlight had begun to stretch long across the ground. Before they knew it, the sun was setting.
“The sun will be setting soon. Would you consider departing tomorrow?”
At Lionel’s question, the count wiped his tears and shook his head.
“No. I must go.”
He looked back and forth between Theseus and Lionel and spoke as though making a vow. Seeing the determination settle on the old count’s face, Lionel stepped back and gestured to the family knights who were waiting.
“Escort the count safely back to his territory.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Please take care. And if you ever need my help, contact me at any time.”
“Thank you.”
Holding close to his chest the weighty goodwill he had received from the Empress and the duke, the count climbed into the carriage. The carriage soon set off, with Lionel’s knights following behind.
Lionel and Theseus watched the carriage recede into the distance. It ran onward, disappearing into the long-stretching rays of sunlight.
“The Empress is unexpected.”
Even for someone of the Empress’s status, it was not a small amount of money.
“Funds to evacuate them to neighboring territories……”
“There must have been a tower in Gottrop as well. Do you think she might know more about the Tower?”
Lionel thought of the Empress again.
Perhaps because of her slender, delicate build, it was difficult to readily associate her with the Tower. The same was true of how hard it was to connect the cold composure she had shown before the nobles with the ready consolation money she had handed to the count.
When the image of jet-black hair like ebony and golden eyes flickered through his mind like an apparition, Lionel brushed aside his thoughts and turned away.
Madam Giggs blinked rapidly.
At first, she thought there had been an earthquake. But as the sound of fabric rubbing together reached her ears moment by moment, she realized, “Ah, this is the sound of someone shaking their leg.”
Who would dare to shake their leg so restlessly in the presence of Her Majesty the Empress?!
With eyes sharply raised, the fastidious lady swept her gaze around, only to find that none of the maids were shaking their legs. Narrowing her eyes, she turned her gaze toward the Empress.
The Empress, her eyes demurely lowered, sat leaning back in her chair with her arms elegantly crossed. Surely, it could not be Her Majesty who was shaking her leg.
Sash-sash-sash-sash-sash-sash-sash-sash.
A brisk, light sound of fabric brushing together echoed, and the floor vibrated faintly.
Sash-sash-sash-sash sa-sa-sash-sash-sash.
Upon closer inspection, the Empress’s voluminous skirt was trembling lightly and rapidly. Her Majesty the Empress was, in fact, shaking her leg—elegantly and quickly.
“Ahem.”
Once the nursemaid to a former grand duke, Madam Giggs cleared her throat without thinking. It was a method she had often used in the past to restrain the young Elizabeta’s behavior, and it came out of habit.
“……”
Adele, who had been shaking her leg, unconsciously paused at the sound of the cough. Having often been restrained in this manner back in her homeland, her body reacted on its own. Adele tilted her head and looked at Madam Giggs.
“……”
Her face was perfectly composed. Adele straightened her tilted head and began shaking her leg again.
Sa-sa-sa-sa-sa-sa-sash-sash-sash.
“Ahem, ahem.”
“……”
When Adele reflexively looked at Madam Giggs, the lady this time fixed her gaze firmly on the Empress. A former nursemaid and a former tomboy locked eyes in a taut exchange.
“…Is it not allowed?”
Madam Giggs gave a small nod, and Adele asked in a sulky, muttering voice,
“Is there some saying here too, like shaking your leg brings bad luck?”
At that, Madam Giggs let out a soft chuckle and shrugged her shoulders.
“Are you troubled by something?”
“……”
Adele let out a deep sigh and pressed her fingers firmly against her brow. When only a sigh returned instead of an answer, Madam Giggs dismissed the waiting maids from the room. She then opened the cabinet, took out herbs effective for headaches, and silently brewed some tea. As the refreshing aroma reached her nose, Adele leaned her head back against the sofa and let all the strength drain from her body.
The clinking of teacups, the gentle sound of tea being poured—it was peaceful. And yet, this place, so peaceful……
‘Please, save us, Your Majesty the Empress.’
As the heartrending voice suddenly surfaced in her mind, Adele let out a small groan and closed her eyes. But once her eyes were closed, a blood-soaked hellscape swept by monsters unfolded in her mind.
“Your Majesty the Empress.”
At the gentle voice, Adele snapped her eyes open. Madam Giggs held out the tea before her, and Adele drank it without even noticing how hot it was.
Enjoying the sensation of her head clearing, Adele drained several cups in succession, then set down the empty teacup and muttered,
“You should just pour it into a large wine goblet.”
“It is tea because it is in a teacup.”
“No matter what you put it in, tea is tea.”
Watching Madam Giggs tidy up the teacups, Adele spoke as if to herself.
“It seems all I can do for them is give them gold ingots.”
“…You did the best you could within what was possible. Count Calvain returned deeply grateful.”
“Within what was possible……”
At those words, Adele let out a small, bitter laugh and lowered her head.
As she drank her tea, the sun sank and darkness gathered. Adele leaned into the darkness that wrapped around her back. Her lowered gaze sank deeply.
Her mother’s words, engraved in her mind, came back to her.
‘Bend. Sometimes you must know how to lower yourself. Your standards are not the world’s standards.’
What had gone wrong?
Where had it started to go wrong?
What had she missed?
‘You are smart. But the world, you see, is a place built by the clever and seized by the wise. So act wisely.’
Enduring the humiliation and rudeness inflicted by the Emperor and his mistress, and being able to offer nothing more than a few coins to those in desperate need—both were because she lacked power.
What wise action could she, as Empress, take to acquire power here?
In truth, Adele had always known the ‘wise’ way. She had simply never put it into practice.
Gottrop, where she at least had her own people, and this place, Ehmonte, were entirely different worlds. When she thought of the Emperor’s face, rebellion churned her stomach, but Adele forcibly pressed those feelings down.
“Madam Giggs.”
Madam Giggs, who had been lighting the last lamp, safely extinguished the flame in her hand and then sat gracefully on the sofa opposite the Empress.
“Yes, Your Majesty the Empress.”
Adele closed her eyes tightly, then opened them and asked in a low voice,
“What kind of person is His Majesty the Emperor?”
