All of Diane’s attention was always fixed on the Emperor. His gaze, subtle expressions, small mannerisms, tone of voice, even the tiniest gestures. Diane constantly observed every detail about him, understood them, and was obsessively attentive. She was confident that she knew better than anyone how to act to elicit a reaction from him. Isn’t that love?
Eventually, Diane stood up. If he had been concerned about her condition, he would have told her to come over. No, before that, he would have come to the Ivory Palace himself.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I caused you concern.”
“You don’t look well. Go and rest.”
It meant that she shouldn’t endure being here and should leave. Diane forced a small smile and nodded.
“I wanted to see you, but it seems that was too much. I haven’t been feeling well these days.”
“Tell the physician to prescribe you some medicine.”
“…Yes, I will.”
Even so, Diane hesitated. Normally, this would be the moment to turn away, but her feet wouldn’t move.
Why doesn’t he ask what happened with the Empress that day? If he asked, she would answer—even if it weren’t entirely true.
Carl tightened his lips and furrowed his brows slightly at her lingering, intense gaze.
If she was told to leave, why wasn’t she going?
To the Emperor, Diane was someone comfortable. Even if she spoke indirectly—or not at all—she seemed to read his mind as if she could look into his heart. She never needed to be told twice, and she never did anything he disliked.
So why was she like this now? He was about to tell her to speak if she had something to say, but Diane opened her mouth first.
“…I heard that the Empress has announced a call for aides.”
She had carefully brought up the word “Empress,” hoping he might ask about that day. But contrary to her expectation, the Emperor simply watched her with a cold gaze. Diane felt cornered.
“…I was worried. In the past, no matter how quickly, Empresses usually appointed aides at least a year after marriage… but appointing one in less than a month—I wondered if it might trouble Your Majesty…”
As her words dragged on, Carl cut her off sharply.
“That’s none of your concern. Don’t trouble yourself with it.”
“…Excuse me?”
“….”
“Oh, yes, Your Majesty.”
Carl turned his attention entirely to the documents. His attitude was so cold that Diane felt tears welling up.
But she must not show them. She forced herself to suppress the tears and began to turn away, only for the Emperor to add a remark as if he hadn’t finished his thought.
“And the matter you said you would wrap up—make sure no one speaks of it again.”
“….”
Diane turned in surprise, but the Emperor added no more. He merely commanded the attendant beside him to bring the documents and busied himself with the next papers. His icy demeanor, leaving no room for further questioning, made Diane shiver as if she had been thrown naked into the dead of winter.
The matter he referred to was the additional budget for the Empress’s palace. To “make sure no one speaks of it again” meant…
“Your Grace…”
Lorraine, sensing her unease, gently urged Diane. Staggering unsteadily, Diane turned around, and the tears she had been holding back poured down like rain.
She felt hurt and sorrowful. Carl Ulrich—he was both heaven and hell. At that moment, Diane was plunged into hell by his gaze, tone, posture, and words. He could so easily turn her world from heaven to hell. So very easily.
Click. The door shut, and Carl glanced at it.
His feelings for Diane were like high waves. The waves rose so high that sometimes even he could not understand the direction they flowed.
Her fragile, almost collapsing appearance, the way she gasped as if about to die.
Some days, that sight made his heart swell, and he would hold her tightly, soothing her with his whole body. Other days, the sight was unbearably displeasing. When the voice scratching at his chest echoed in his ears, he felt he might go mad.
Today was one of those days. Carl roughly pushed back his disheveled blond hair and drank cold water. Facing Diane always left him with the lingering feeling of guilt.
“…Send a physician to the Ivory Palace. Prescribe medicine beneficial to her health.”
“Yes, understood.”
Giving the order lifted a bit of the guilt that had been sticking to him. The throbbing in his head seemed to clear as if by magic.
The reason he sent Diane away quickly was that something else was now irritating his nerves.
“Report the current status regarding the Empress’s aide announcement.”
The attendant immediately flipped through papers and began reciting the names of nobles who had applied.
“The second son of Baron Armandi… the third son… the fourth son… the second son…”
Despite the announcement being made only that morning, it seemed all the noble families had swarmed to it like bees. Carl smirked and shook his head. Since the Empress was a magician, it seemed everyone who could be sent was sent, curious to see how the situation would unfold.
“What about people related to the House of Valdre?”
“None yet. Should I report immediately if there’s news?”
“Yes. Report it. Neither the Duke nor the heir would intervene directly, so they will likely send someone from their household.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Carl glared at the papers held by the attendant, then turned his head and muttered,
“This will be troublesome.”
Hannah Geeks was indeed a person worthy of the previous Empress’s favor. Her mind must have contained an extensive encyclopedia of names. The problem was how much she could be trusted, but from Adele’s perspective, there was no alternative.
Before the interviews following the aide announcement, Adele received a briefing from Mrs. Geeks about the key figures and major events in the Ehrmont political sphere.
“Looking at it from every angle, recruiting the House of Valdre is the best course.”
The Duke of Valdre was the head of the faction opposing the Emperor. On the opposite side was a group led by Duke Despone, including the Count of Poitiers.
If Adele chose someone from the Despone faction as an aide at this point, it would look ridiculous. But no direct member of the House of Valdre would apply for the Empress’s aide position, so Adele carefully reviewed the list of candidates they might send. At the very least, she needed to understand any signals coming from the House of Valdre.
Time flowed like a river, and finally, the aide interviews began. The Empress’s palace doors were opened for official interviewees, and a line formed.
“Your Majesty! The moment I saw you, I couldn’t believe my eyes. If there is an angel, it must be you!! That’s what I thought.”
Me? An angel? My nickname was the Witch of Gottrup!
“Ah, it’s such an honor to meet you, Your Majesty. I couldn’t even look at your walking steps, so I bowed my head and only looked at your feet… I’m so nervous. This moment feels like a dream.”
I feel like I’m dreaming too.
“I!! Have very strong strength!! Look, I can split this apple! Just like this!!”
“….”
“Like this!!!”
“….”
“It seems to be a local specialty apple. Firm-fleshed apples are the tastiest… ahem.”
…Yeah. Eat plenty of apples.
“Your Majesty, my talent is singing. Would you like to hear?”
No, please stop!!
“Your Majesty!! Your pupils look like a gold mine. If you cry, will gold fall out?”
This is the first time I’ve heard such a metaphor. Original, amazing. You think I’m a gold mine? In my eyes, you’re not even a coal pit.
Was it a mistake to choose candidates through interviews? Is this why preliminary screening is needed?
The guy praising the “gold mine”—whose name I don’t even know—left, and Adele flopped onto the sofa. Mrs. Geeks, quick-witted, went outside and explained that the Empress was resting, buying some time.
Her head ached. When Mrs. Geeks returned, Adele muttered in exhaustion:
“Tell me, madam. Are the Ehrmont people always this aggressive? As soon as an announcement comes out, they swarm like this?”
“There’s certainly a tendency.”
“No matter what. Even if it’s just a nominal title of aide, ultimately, it’s a role that can’t escape being mocked as ‘the Empress’s spy,’ yet they rush in like this?”
Adele jumped up and asked. Honestly, she had expected maybe three or four, at most ten. She never imagined they’d come in such numbers that she couldn’t even remember their names.
