“Her Imperial Highness, Princess Shuria, is here.”
“……Oh.”
The violet eyes that had been sparkling with a rare flicker of life went instantly dim. Erger ran his hand roughly through his platinum hair. Another wave of heavy emotion surged up inside him.
He let the tension drop from his shoulders and stood at a careless slant. Shuria was Liard’s only direct blood relative. He had heard that the previous Emperor and Empress had died in an accident during a rift. He had learned that in history class.
Why has his little sister come here? Could the Emperor have sent her? Erger chewed at his full lips and walked out of the bedroom into the sitting room.
Shuria had already arrived and was seated in the sitting room. The moment he opened the door and stepped inside, Erger was mildly startled. She looked strikingly like Liard. He had heard she was four years younger, but he could have believed they were twins.
Shuria smiled brightly and gestured with her hand to the seat across from her. Since Erger had not yet gone through the wedding ceremony with Liard, he was clearly of lower standing than Shuria.
“It’s a pleasure. I’m Shuria Igvaltwyn. Please, sit.”
Is it a special talent of the imperial family to wear that insufferably smug smile? It was a smile that reminded him of Liard. Erger sat down with a blunt expression.
“I’m Erger Crowell.”
He said it while trying his best not to let too much of the sharp resentment he had built up toward Liard show through. It didn’t go quite as well as he had intended.
“How delightful, to meet the Prime Minister’s second son in person — I had only heard of you by rumor. I’m told you’re the most notable talent the Mage Tower has its eyes on.”
“I find it surprising that rumors about me have spread all the way to the capital.”
“You’re not denying it?”
“Well……”
It was true, after all, that he was the most powerful mage next to the Tower Master herself. Erger shrugged. It was a rather arrogant attitude, but on a strikingly handsome man, it seemed to suit him like a well-fitted coat.
Shuria blinked her blue eyes and covered her mouth with her hand as she laughed. She’s different from the Emperor in that way. Erger found himself naturally searching her features for traces of Liard.
“Is there no tea here?”
At Shuria’s question, Erger only then realized he had failed to observe the proper etiquette of receiving a guest as the host, and scratched the back of his neck. He had learned various noble courtesies from his father Cezar bit by bit over the years, but knowing something in theory and actually carrying it out when the moment arrived were entirely different matters.
Erger said, mildly embarrassed.
“There is. I’ll have some brought out.”
“Lovely.”
Erger was thoroughly awkward when it came to directing servants. At the Mage Tower, no matter how noble your family name, you were expected to take care of your own affairs. He had heard that every year there was always at least one child who threw a fit insisting on bringing a servant into the Tower with them — but even those children inevitably adapted to life there.
Before long, a servant brought out tea and a light spread of refreshments. Erger, who had little appreciation for tea, left his cup entirely untouched and simply stared at Shuria. He wished she would just get to the point of why she had come.
It was, strictly speaking, improper by upper-class standards to stare fixedly at a woman — but Erger didn’t particularly care. He felt as though he might suffocate from restlessness at any moment. He hadn’t even bothered to tie his cravat, and his clothes hung loosely on him. It was already far too late to worry about propriety.
When is the wedding going to be? Does the Emperor intend to stuff him away in this remote corner and never see him again? Is that just the kind of person he is, always doing whatever he pleases……? He had so many questions.
He couldn’t very well march up to the Emperor out of nowhere and ask. Liard was relentlessly busy every single day. If you submitted a formal request for an audience, they said you had to wait weeks.
What a terribly expensive man. Then again, he’s the Emperor — that goes without saying. Well… at least his face seems to be worth something……
Shuria must have read the torrent of emotions swirling in Erger’s eyes as he stared at her, because she set her teacup down and spoke.
“It seems like there’s a great deal you want to ask.”
“Yes.”
Erger answered without hesitation.
“Why have you come to see me so suddenly? Did His Majesty perhaps have a message to pass along?”
Please say yes. Please. His eyes were so desperately pleading that Shuria, for a moment, couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“Oh my, nothing like that. It’s simply that, as the one who oversees the affairs of the inner palace, I came to discuss a few things with you, young master Crowell.”
At Shuria’s answer, Erger visibly deflated. His shoulders sagged, and the sharpness faded from his eyes.
Managing the inner palace was originally the role of the Empress, but since the position had been vacant, Shuria had been handling it in her stead all this time. Even when Erger became the Imperial Consort, the situation would not be much different. He was not expected to be given any duties or responsibilities as a member of the imperial family, even after the marriage.
Shuria tucked a strand of ebony hair behind her ear and continued.
“The wedding is scheduled to take place in a fortnight. His Majesty has delegated everything regarding the ceremony to me. We’ve been making gradual preparations in advance, but it’s quite soon, isn’t it? His Majesty asked us to move as quickly as possible. The ceremony itself will likely be held simply, in the shrine chapel of the imperial palace. Even so, the formal wedding attire and rings still need to be properly fitted……”
Shuria let out a small sigh, as if a headache was already forming.
“Since His Majesty has insisted it must be done within a fortnight, there’s nothing I can do. I came to ask for your cooperation in several things. First, let’s take your exact measurements and decide on the wedding attire.”
Shuria rattled off her words briskly, then took a quiet sip of her tea. Erger gripped his own hands tightly together on his lap. The wedding was being arranged entirely without the involvement of the person it most concerned.
“My marriage partner is His Majesty the Emperor. Does that mean I’m to speak only with you, Princess Shuria, in his place?”
Erger asked sharply, and Shuria blinked, looking genuinely surprised.
“Do you wish to speak with His Majesty?”
“Of course I……. Even if this is a political marriage, I would rather not walk straight into the ceremony without any exchange between us whatsoever.”
“His Majesty is an extraordinarily busy person.”
“I’m aware of that. Still, it’s a once-in-a-lifetime wedding. I suppose His Majesty has no particular feelings about it…… and nothing he wishes to say, it seems.”
Erger shot back in a sharp, sardonic tone. It’s not as if I desperately wanted this marriage either……. Damn it. He was stuck alone in some corner of the inner palace, working himself up all by himself.
Shuria laughed off the rudeness without batting an eye. Are all those of the Igvaltwyn bloodline gifted with this same smooth, infuriating ability to smile through anything?
“That said, His Majesty’s input hasn’t been entirely absent. He mentioned that the gemstone for the wedding ring should be in a shade of purple — modeled after young master Crowell’s eye color.”
“My eye color?”
“Yes. It seems your eyes left quite an impression on him. Looking at them now, they really are lovely eyes.”
“……Is that true?”
Erger, who had been sitting at his usual crooked slant, gave a small jolt and subtly reached up to touch the corner of his eye. They hadn’t even spent much time together — and yet Liard had remembered his eye color and brought it up. And beyond that, a wedding ring set with a gem to match that color…… wasn’t that rather romantic? Perhaps he wasn’t entirely indifferent to him after all……
It was such a small thing, and yet it made him faintly happy. Erger found himself fidgeting absently with the ring finger of his left hand, where a ring would soon be placed. His lips moved soundlessly.
My eyes are pretty……? Well, it’s not as if only my eyes are. — No, wait, are you really getting moved by something this trivial? Are you really that easy? Just because the Emperor has a face that could stop time, are you really going to lose all your spine over his looks like some spineless——
Erger chided himself, struggling to pull his own wits back together.
“He was quite an adorable young man.”
A short while later, Liard — buried as always beneath a mountain of documents — found himself puzzled by the words Shuria flung at him as she barged into his study.
“Who?”
“The boy who’s going to be your husband, obviously. Who else?”
“Ah, young master Crowell. You met him?”
Liard gave an almost imperceptible flinch and set his quill pen down briefly. The handsome face he had glimpsed just a few days ago flashed through his mind in an instant.
“I had things to discuss with him about the wedding. Strikingly handsome, in a way that genuinely catches you off guard.”
“If Valen heard you say that, he’d be quite hurt.”
“But rumors are already spreading all through the inner palace. Everyone who’s happened to cross paths with young master Crowell in passing can talk of nothing else but how handsome he is. I’m not a woman who falls for a man’s face, you know? It’s not as if I married based on looks.”
“Ah, if he heard that part too, he’d definitely cry.”
Liard chuckled softly, but in one corner of his mind he was quietly turning Shuria’s words over. Erger was, without question, handsome enough to draw admiration from everyone around him. He was too fine a man to be kept tethered only to Liard.
Still, until a child is born, he’ll need to stay focused on their relationship rather than letting his eyes wander too much. Knowing how freely Erger had lived at the Mage Tower gave him pause.
The prophecy came to mind again. Was Erger simply a man who gave himself like that to everyone? And was that the reason he himself had had no choice but to fall in step with him……? The more he thought about it, the worse his head ached.
“By the way — do you intend not to see young master Crowell before the wedding? He seemed to want to see you, brother.”
“……Me?”
