Verita looked up at Lunox with tear-filled, pitiful eyes, pleading for a solution.
Lunox was known as a problem solver among people. Whenever someone asked about a troublesome issue, he would answer without hesitation, and as long as they followed his advice, the problem would disappear completely.
Verita always sought Lunox’s counsel whenever she had trouble. In truth, it was just a matter of recklessly blurting out bold answers, which happened to be surprisingly effective.
“Hmm.”
Lunox, lost in thought as he slowly stroked his chin, raised an eyebrow and looked down at her.
“Send a letter to Devon and ask for his help. Tell him you’re returning soon.”
“Y-yeah, I suppose that’s the best option, right?”
“Until then, why not stay with your mother, Viscountess Antra Dien? She turned a blind eye to Devon’s affair, and she’s also grown close to you, his mistress.”
“But my sister will be even angrier…”
“Then make her forgive you. Problem solved.”
Verita’s eyes widened like lanterns. She stared at Lunox in awe, as if she had just received divine wisdom. Her gaze shimmered like moonlight reflected on a lake.
“Lunox, how are you so wise? You’re right. My sister is just upset now, but eventually, she’ll forgive me like she always does.”
Haha. Of course.
Lunox patted Verita’s back as she embraced him with a bright smile.
Unlike his gentle smile, his crimson-tinted eyes were cold and calculating.
Ah, how foolish she is.
Verita was always this foolish. That’s why watching her was never boring.
Despite being old enough to take responsibility for herself, she was drowning in self-pity and still believed she needed protection.
Everyone indulged and adored her, treating it as a given. When she made mistakes, they were endlessly forgiving.
Look at her now—crying shamelessly, even though she repaid a lifetime of kindness with betrayal.
Lunox sneered inwardly, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“Everything will be fine, Verita.”
“Thank you, Lunox. I just hope Etricia forgives Devon and me soon. It’s not just for me; this is the best way for everyone to be happy.”
Etricia?
Lunox’s black eyebrows twitched.
Now that he thought about it, the name sounded familiar.
After pondering for a moment, Lunox let out a small chuckle and brushed the thought aside. Unless it provided him entertainment, he had no interest in it.
Thinking that he might become just as foolish as Verita if he stayed any longer, Lunox left the mansion, using a meeting with his lover as an excuse.
Edmund walked swiftly past the towering columns and stopped at the foot of the platform, placing his hand on his chest as he bowed deeply.
When the attendant lifted the thin curtain, the sunlight streamed in, revealing a man seated on the throne.
His appearance suggested he was in his middle years, yet his piercing gaze, as cold and brilliant as ice, still carried the spirit of a man who had once emerged victorious in the empire’s power struggles.
Edmund opened his mouth to speak, his expression unreadable, but the Emperor raised a hand to stop him.
“The first words I want to hear from a hero returning after nine years are not mere formalities.”
Edmund lazily lifted his gaze, glancing at the Emperor’s feet before lowering his eyes to the carpet.
“I have come to claim the reward I was promised.”
“Ha!”
The Emperor let out a hearty laugh, stroking his chin. Indeed, it was an answer that pleased him greatly.
The Emperor narrowed one eye and observed Edmund under the chandelier’s light.
The place where the monsters had appeared was below the northernmost plateau, deep within the verdant Zeder Forest.
Nine years ago, these monsters had devoured an entire village nearby.
A subjugation force was assembled to deal with the threat, but no one was willing to step forward as its leader.
Once the Magic Tower classified the monsters and revealed the difficulty of exterminating them, even the most renowned knights hesitated.
But then, a young knight who had recently received his title volunteered to lead the mission.
That knight was none other than Edmund Mipedian, the rightful heir of House Mipedian, scornfully called a “wingless fledgling.”
“I will eradicate the monsters in the forest. In return, restore my title as Duke of Mipedian.”
“Oh? And what else?”
“Until I return, protect my sister from my uncle.”
With burning determination in his icy golden eyes, the young knight bowed before the Emperor.
The Emperor, deeply moved by the boy’s desperate plea, had no choice but to accept the request.
When Edmund was thirteen, a horrific massacre took place at the Mipedian estate. Monsters had appeared and devoured the Duke and Duchess, along with their servants.
The only survivors were Edmund and his sister. Edmund, who had witnessed the tragedy firsthand, testified that the monsters had transformed into humans.
While people murmured in doubt, his uncle submitted a psychological evaluation to the court, claiming Edmund had suffered a mental breakdown from the shock.
As a result, the case was declared unresolved, and Edmund was stripped of his inheritance through a family vote.
The Emperor had no authority over noble succession matters and could only watch in silence.
One year later, Edmund took charge of the subjugation force, and nine years later, the fledgling who had been cast from his nest learned to fly, returning as a formidable warrior.
Looking at the resolute man before him, the Emperor saw traces of the passionate boy he once was and smiled in satisfaction.
“Yes, I must grant you your due reward. I will make the announcement at the upcoming banquet.”
“Before that, I request an official letter of recognition. My forces will soon arrive at my territory.”
“Ah, yes. I heard your soldiers will be stationed there.”
Edmund lowered his gaze slightly in silent affirmation. The moment he received the letter, he planned to expel his uncle and relatives who had labeled him insane.
If his vassals opposed him, the letter would serve as proof of his legitimacy.
The Emperor, understanding his intent, nodded.
“I will instruct my officials to ensure there is no confusion among the knights regarding their rightful lord.”
“I am deeply grateful.”
As Edmund bowed and spoke in a hoarse voice, the Emperor observed him in silence.
Some called Edmund a loyal subject, but that was not the truth.
No matter how much the Emperor bestowed upon him—titles, wealth, power—he would never possess this man’s heart.
And that realization only deepened his desire to claim him.
If only his son had been like this.
The Emperor sighed, thinking of his foolish heir, before suddenly coughing.
An attendant rushed forward, but he waved them away.
Edmund watched him keenly with narrowed eyes. The Emperor’s condition seemed worse than before.
Not that it mattered to him.
As Edmund awaited permission to leave, the Emperor suddenly spoke.
“How is… that child?”
Edmund, aware of the Emperor’s connection to Etricia through her letters, calmly replied.
“Do you mean Countess Buell?”
“Yes, her. I hear she’s staying at your estate due to your sister.”
“That is correct.”
“Tsk tsk, she said she’d stay away from the royal family because she was getting married, and now she says she’s divorcing that damn Count Buell.”
Though the scolding tone was clear in his voice, the smile on his lips showed a mix of relief and happiness.
When the emperor let out a small sigh and raised his hand, the attendant brought over an imperial letter.
Edmund took the letter, which was placed on a golden tray.
“Please deliver this letter to her. I can feel at ease knowing she’s with you. Take good care of that delicate child.”
Delicate child? Edmund’s thick eyebrows twitched slightly.
He thought of Etricia, who used to smile coldly while dreaming of revenge against her in-laws, and was too stunned to turn around even after being ordered to leave.
Later, when he arrived at the mansion, Edmund was given an unexpected report as soon as he returned.
It was about Etricia causing a scene with her sworn sister, who had barged into the mansion.
And when he got to the office, he was met with the sight of Lilien crying.
“…Ha, Sister.”
“Are you listening, Edmund? Isn’t she just awful? How could she go after the husband of the sworn sister she’s known for more than ten years…?”
Taking his eyes off the documents he was reviewing, Edmund rubbed his forehead and replied in a half-dazed voice,
“That’s the sixth time you’ve said that.”
“Mm, sorry. I just feel so heartbroken thinking about Lady Etricia, who must have been so kind and innocent all this time without knowing…”
Lilien gave an awkward laugh, her cheeks slightly red.
Edmund let out a dry laugh and looked at Lilien with narrowed eyes.
‘I wonder who the innocent one really is.’
Because his sister hadn’t changed at all over the past nine years, he didn’t feel the passage of time.
It felt like they had just met yesterday—it was that familiar.
That’s why he had brought Etricia into the mansion.
Without knowing what that woman was planning to do to him.
