1 p.m.
The cursed hour when post-meal drowsiness hits like a wave. Luan sat at the auxiliary table in the office, staring blankly into the air.
“……”
The domestic economic report Kirian had handed over lay open before him, but the letters were dancing. His brain had declared a strike.
There was only so long he could survive on sugar alone. What he needed right now wasn’t sweetness — it was a stimulant that would surge through his veins and slam into his central nervous system.
Caffeine…… I need caffeine.
Luan’s hands trembled. In his past life, he had been a person who maintained a blood caffeine concentration of 40%. His body had been the kind that needed to down three shots of iced Americano a day just to think, “Ah, now I can function like a human being.”
I can’t survive on this bland water.
Luan rose from his seat like a zombie.
“Where are you going?”
Kirian looked up from the approval documents he’d been reviewing at the head of the table.
“I need to take some…… medicine.”
“Medicine? Are you unwell somewhere?”
Kirian’s gaze sharpened in an instant. After the back incident that morning, he set down his pen, wondering if something else had broken down.
“No. My mind is ailing. I’ll go have some coffee.”
“Coffee? You can have it here. I’ll call the Head Chamberlain.”
“No. I have to make it myself.”
Luan said firmly.
“The imperial recipe is too…… weak for my needs.”
With that, he staggered off toward the pantry. Too weak? The coffee brewed by the Empire’s finest chef? Kirian felt a mix of curiosity and skepticism and followed after Luan.
A moment later, the imperial head chef was breaking into a cold sweat. The way the Empress was brewing the finest quality beans was simply bizarre.
“If you brew it that strong…… it’ll be too bitter to drink.”
“It’s fine. Please extract just the concentrate. Double the amount.”
“T-two shots, did you say? That could strain your heart……”
“My heart is sturdier than it looks. Quickly, please.”
Urged on by Luan, the chef extracted a thick espresso with trembling hands. A liquid so dark it looked like poison was poured into the cup. Under normal circumstances, nobles would add warm milk, rich foam, and plenty of sugar — that was the done thing at afternoon tea.
But Luan pushed away the sugar jar the chef offered him. Instead, he reached for the ice container.
Clatter. The glass was filled to the brim with ice. Over that, hot espresso and cold water were poured.
Tsssss — the ice melted, and the dark liquid swirled. It was the birth of an iced Americano — just looking at it made your tongue feel like it would freeze over.
“……Perfect.”
Luan gazed at the dark liquid with reverent eyes. Just then, Kirian, who had been leaning against the doorframe, spoke.
“What on earth is that dreadful thing?”
“……!”
Luan startled and turned around. Kirian was staring at the glass with a deeply furrowed brow.
“You said coffee. Why are you putting ice into black filthy water? And without any sugar?”
“This is real coffee. The authentic taste.”
“Authentic taste, he says. It looks more like a torture device.”
Kirian’s expression was one of utter incomprehension. With warm, fragrant tea readily available, why would anyone choose to drink something cold and bitter?
Luan casually took a long, cool sip.
“……Ahh.”
The thrill of cold, bitter caffeine flowing down his throat. His heart thudded, and his blurred vision sharpened. His dying brain cells sounded a reveille as though they’d been slapped awake.
“I feel alive.”
It was an exclamation from the depths of his soul. Vitality returned to Luan’s eyes. Kirian stared at him with an odd look. The man who had been half-dead just moments ago was now completely revived by a single glass of that cold poison.
“……Does it taste good?”
“If you’re curious, would you like to try some?”
Luan extended the glass generously. Kirian took it with a suspicious eye. The chill that touched his fingertips felt unfamiliar. He cautiously took a sip.
“……Ugh!”
Kirian’s face crumpled mercilessly. Bitter. Unbearably bitter. And cold enough to make his tongue sting.
“Pfft! What is this! It’s like drinking water charcoal was burned in!”
Kirian quickly reached for water to rinse out his mouth.
“You drink this and say ‘I feel alive’? Have you lost your sense of taste?”
“It’s an acquired taste. Your Majesty simply hasn’t experienced enough of life’s bitterness yet to appreciate this depth of flavor.”
Luan shook his head with an air of exaggerated pity. At that, Kirian’s eyebrow twitched.
“Ha. We’re only three years apart.”
“……”
“I’m twenty, you’re twenty-three. Yet you speak like some old man who’s lived thirty years more.”
“Those three years make all the difference.”
Wait, he’s practically still wet behind the ears. Of course he’d known the age, but the original work’s descriptions had been so intense. Hearing it stated plainly was still a shock. Still, he had his own argument to make. Luan put the straw to his lips with a perfectly serious face.
“In the working world, three years may not change the landscape, but it changes a person. It’s more than enough time for innocence to be corrupted.”
“……How amusing.”
Kirian clicked his tongue. Only three years apart. And yet Luan’s eyes seemed to hold far more years than that — or perhaps, something closer to weariness.
That expression of someone who’s lived it all at twenty-three. What on earth did he go through in the Requies household?
Luan took the glass back and cradled it protectively against his chest. Kirian clicked his tongue and gestured to the chef.
“From now on, prepare the Empress’s coffee like that. Make sure the ice never runs out.”
“Pardon? But Your Majesty, that lacks a certain dignity……”
“The Empress says it’s medicine. Respect his preferences.”
Kirian said it with deliberate curtness and turned away.
“Once you’re done, come back. The afternoon workload is a mountain. We need to finish reviewing the domestic economic report by end of day.”
The Emperor striding ahead as though it were the most natural thing in the world. But Luan didn’t follow immediately — he stopped where he stood.
“Your Majesty.”
“What. Do you need more coffee?”
“No. I need to adjust the schedule.”
Luan gripped the iced coffee in his hand like it was a lifeline and spoke with firm resolve.
“I’ll finish today’s work even if I have to stay late. But tomorrow, I won’t be coming in.”
Kirian’s footsteps stopped dead. He slowly turned around.
“……What did you just say?”
“I need to go to the temple tomorrow. Please designate one day per week from here on as temple visitation day.”
Kirian’s eyebrow twitched. One day off per week during the busiest period. The caffeine had clearly given him more nerve than sense.
“Look, Empress. We’re drowning in work and you want temple outings? Does it absolutely have to be now?”
“It’s not an outing — it’s an obligation. And it’s also necessary for the divorce.”
At the word “divorce,” Kirian’s expression hardened.
“What does going to the temple have to do with a divorce?”
“Because I need to undergo a purification rite.”
Luan dropped the bombshell as casually as if he were commenting on the weather.
“Until the divorce papers are stamped, I must cleanse my body and soul. That way the divorce proceedings can go through without any blemishes.”
“……Ha.”
Kirian let out a hollow laugh as though the absurdity of it had knocked the breath out of him.
“Purification? Look here, Luanisiel.”
Kirian strode over and stood right in front of Luan’s face.
“What exactly have we done that requires purification? We haven’t done a single thing befitting a married couple. Not so much as the tip of a finger.”
Kirian’s words weren’t wrong. They had been living separately for five years, and it had only been a few days since they’d reunited. All they’d done was eat together, work together, and at most, have some knotted muscles pressed out.
“We haven’t shared a bed. We haven’t spent a night together. So what exactly are you purifying? You’d need something to wash off in the first place.”
Kirian pressed the point as though he had every right to feel aggrieved. But Luan simply sniffed.
“Hmph. As if anyone out there would actually believe that.”
“What?”
“You said you’d handle it yourself, and yet rumors are already rampant throughout the palace that we spent the night in passionate heat together. You said you’d take care of it, but nothing has been resolved at all.”
Luan delivered the facts drily.
“In the eyes of the world, we are already a pair who have seen everything there is to see. So for form’s sake at least, we need a certificate proving our bodies were purified through a sacred rite — otherwise there’ll be complications down the line.”
“……”
“Think of it simply as administrative procedure. Things need to be clean on paper for a clean break.”
Kirian was left speechless. To think the rumor he himself had spread would come back as a boomerang like this. Did this man genuinely have a divorce manual installed in his head? Using the temple itself just to negate his relationship with the Emperor.
“……What a ruthless man.”
Kirian shook his head with an expression of utter exasperation.
“Fine. Go and wash yourself thoroughly. Until you’re scrubbed raw.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll come back bleached by divine power.”
“In return.”
Kirian lifted his index finger and flicked it against Luan’s forehead.
“If you don’t finish today’s quota, there’s no outing tomorrow. Stay up all night if you have to.”
“Understood.”
Luan turned away without a shred of hesitation. The sight of his back, iced coffee in hand, was more resolute than ever. His determination toward divorce — and toward securing even one day off per week — was something not even the Emperor could break.
