The imperial marriage of Emperor Karl Ulrich was prepared under the direction of Diane Poitiers. From the empress’s dress to the very coffin, there was nothing that did not pass through Diane’s hands.
The nobles shook their heads at the sight, but none dared raise the issue. After all, the only woman of the current Ulrich imperial family was the emperor’s half-sister, Elizabetha Ulrich Grand—and unfortunately, she was divorced.
In the Empire’s culture, where divorce was taboo, a divorced woman could not preside over a royal wedding. And since Diane Poitiers did not appear to be handling the preparations carelessly, the nobles could only watch from afar as if observing a distant fire.
“You’ve got some nerve, don’t you.”
At the insolent tone, Diane’s delicate brow narrowed. She instinctively glanced toward the maids, observing their reactions. Her gaze stopped on one of them. Diane scanned her from head to toe before asking sharply,
“I don’t recall seeing you before. Lift your face.”
At Diane’s order, the maid she had pointed to slowly raised her head.
Soft blonde hair, rather deep blue eyes—her looks aren’t striking, but still…
Diane observed the maid in thought for a moment before turning away, speaking coolly.
“Everyone leave. I wish to speak alone with my brother.”
As the maids hurried out, Diane spoke quietly to her brother, Count Lennox Poitiers, fixing him with a stern look.
“I told you not to keep maids who have blonde hair and blue eyes, didn’t I?!”
“There are plenty of blondes with blue eyes—if I weed them all out, how am I supposed to hire maids?”
“Just do as I say.”
Diane glared at him with her eyes wide, leaving no room for argument. Lennox finally shrugged and nodded.
Only then did Diane turn away again, fiddling with the fabric samples before her. It was the material for the ceremonial robe Karl would wear at the wedding.
“I think this one is best…”
“You’ve got some nerve choosing this with that attitude.”
“Watch your mouth in front of the maids. If you can’t choose your words, then don’t come here at all.”
“…Let me ask you something.”
“…”
“Can you endure it when the empress arrives?”
Hearing that, Diane leaned back in her chair and glared at her brother.
“His Majesty acts as though he cannot live without you, yet he still hasn’t given you the position of empress. When she arrives—can you endure it? And there’s still no child… honestly.”
He spoke as though concerned, but every word Lennox Poitiers uttered pricked her like thorns. Diane wanted to throw him out right then. Had they not been inside the imperial palace, she would have.
She cooled her rising anger with an imaginary splash of cold water and turned her attention back to the items before her.
“Brother.”
“Yes?”
“The empress won’t be granted anything by His Majesty.”
“…What does that mean?”
“His Majesty has an intense aversion toward the very word ‘empress.’ Do you understand?”
The count mulled over her words before narrowing his eyes.
“Aversion or not, the title of empress holds power in itself!”
“Yet even that position exists under the emperor’s name. I won’t lose His Majesty’s love. As long as he loves me, no one can stand above me. Not even His Highness the Duke of Desponne. Because His Majesty loves me, he cannot make me the empress.”
“What nonsense is that?”
Lennox muttered in disbelief, but Diane merely snorted.
“And you know nothing about men. Love fades. It always fades, Diane.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
Diane smiled, bright and serene.
“Love for the living fades.”
“…”
“But love for the dead doesn’t fade. That’s why death becomes an eternal name.”
She sighed deeply and pulled a locket from her neck. When she opened it, inside was the portrait of a delicate woman who resembled Diane.
Luxurious cascading blonde hair and pale sky-blue eyes. The woman inside the locket—Karl Ulrich’s deceased birth mother.
“His Majesty sees his mother in me. An empress, from the very name, is someone distant to him. Did you forget how badly the late empress and His Majesty got along?”
So how could his love for me fade? Compared to an empress, who has nothing but the title, a favored concubine holds both affection and power.
Diane closed the locket with a gentle smile.
“Fine, but what about the empress herself?! You don’t know what kind of woman she is! I told you so many times, you should’ve gotten pregnant before the marriage!”
“You think that’s something I can control?!”
Diane finally burst out in anger. Then she closed her eyes tightly, as though forcing down something burning, and spoke in a low, restrained voice.
“It doesn’t matter what kind of woman she is.”
Lennox frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
“She was a princess from birth—everyone must have bowed before her all her life. People made her into a princess. Humans are shaped by the gazes and treatment they receive. I can make even a beggar feel like a king.”
“…How?”
“Make countless people bow to the beggar. Then even passersby will bow to him.”
Diane gave her brother a pitying look before lifting the fabric again.
“Anyway, what I mean is—no matter what kind of person she is, it doesn’t matter. There will be no one here to make her feel special. What can a foreign princess do? If she wants help, she’ll have to send across the sea—back and forth, that will take half a year.”
About a month later.
In front of the grand gates of the capital, a group of mounted knights stood assembled, radiating overwhelming authority. Their imposing black cloaks made them appear fierce and dignified.
It was late summer. The vast plains were filled with wildflowers of all colors, and strong sunlight shone from above. The flowers swayed in the wind, and the golden sunlight scattered like shards—it was truly beautiful.
The dozens of knights in black cloaks were waiting for someone who would appear beyond the lovely plains.
After some time, the knight standing at the very front narrowed his eyes.
He had black hair with a faint blue sheen and blue-tinged eyes—Lionel Baldur, Minister of Defense and Captain of the Imperial Guard. A direct descendant of the prestigious Baldur ducal house, and a man beautiful enough to make anyone widen their eyes. Because it was the future empress of Ehmont he was welcoming, he had been chosen to represent them.
Lionel stared intently at the small black speck emerging from the horizon. Perhaps from waiting too long under the sun, he felt an unexpected twinge of anticipation.
“She’s approaching!”
The other knights seemed to feel the same excitement, one of them calling out brightly.
“Yes. I see her as well. Let’s move.”
When Lionel flicked the reins, his horse began to trot, prompting the others behind him to follow. The horses, which had stood under the sun for so long, galloped joyfully, startling the birds resting in the bushes and sending them soaring into the sky.
Meanwhile, inside the carriage, Adele rose halfway as the ground-shaking hoofbeats reached her. The crisp sound of dozens of hooves striking the earth was invigorating.
As expected, a group of knights was racing toward her—undoubtedly the welcoming party.
After nearly two months spent between ship and carriage, Adele’s patience was nearing its limit. She abruptly asked the attendant riding nearby:
“How much longer?”
“What you see ahead is the first gate. You must pass the second gate as well—it will take about another hour.”
“An hour…”
After a moment of thought, Adele slammed the carriage window shut and drew the curtains. The maid attending her looked startled, but Adele simply opened a box and pulled out a dress, smiling.
“I should change.”
As the hoofbeats grew nearer, the carriage slowly began to decelerate. When it eventually came to a complete stop, Adele stood and looked toward the door.
Voices exchanged greetings outside, and then someone approached the carriage with steady footsteps.
Knock, knock.
A polite knock sounded, followed by a deep voice.
“May I open the door for a moment?”
It was a voice with a deep, resonant timbre.
Instead of answering, Adele opened the carriage door herself. Through the opening, the first thing she saw was a mysterious bluish glow.
How strangely beautiful.
That was Adele’s first thought.
