Welcome To The Imperial Palace (2)

The journey to Baden was smooth.

Though Alicia had demanded Reichardt ride in her carriage, she then ignored him entirely.

The only sound inside the carriage was that of tea being sipped.

Daisy would check in and refill the tea at every stop for inspection.

Reichardt seemed perfectly at ease as soon as he stepped into the carriage.

Hard to believe this was the same man who had resisted riding in it all night.

But as time passed and Alicia didn’t spare him a single glance, he gave up pretending to be unaffected and began observing her instead.

Alicia drank milk tea.

Her gaze stayed mostly on the passing scenery outside.

Sometimes she opened a notebook dated with specific entries and seriously calculated something.

Then she drank more tea.

Whenever the carriage paused, she would ask Daisy for warm milk and prepare for the next leg of the journey.

Alicia didn’t react at all to Reichardt’s staring.

Even when their eyes briefly met, she treated it like passing through thin air.

Despite the unusual circumstances, they couldn’t ride together all the way into the night.

“Your Grace. Why are you opposed to Lady Maude giving birth in the Imperial Palace?”

The question came suddenly.

“……”

Reichardt instinctively wanted to ask, “Did I say I was opposed to it?”

Then he realized he hadn’t expressed any opinion at all.

But Alicia already knew.

Asking how she knew would’ve been a waste of time.

She was, after all, someone who had promised to give him a prophecy each season.

Clunk.

Just then, the carriage jolted sharply.

In the rattling motion, Reichardt instinctively reached out to steady Alicia.

But she remained steady on her own, barely shifting.

Swallowing an unfamiliar sense of disappointment, Reichardt opened the carriage window.

It didn’t seem like anything was wrong.

Roderick, riding nearby to guard them, quickly approached.

“Your Grace.”

“Have the close guards pull back one step.”

“Yes, sir…”

Though confused, Roderick didn’t ask why.

The window shut again.

The sounds of hooves signaled the guard moving farther from the carriage.

“Because it’s not proper.”

Reichardt’s response was curt.

“It’s His Majesty’s first child.”

The Emperor and the Grand Duke of Tessen, Reichardt, were political allies.

Reichardt was both the Emperor’s sword and shield.

At the same time, he was the leader of the Empire’s most militarily threatening faction.

If the Emperor and Reichardt represented the current imperial power, Chancellor Marquis Maynard belonged to the late emperor’s faction.

Alicia held some suspicion about that dynamic.

To the general public, including Alicia, the Emperor and the Grand Duke were sworn brothers and the most powerful political duo.

But up close, it was clear: Reichardt showed absolute loyalty to the Emperor.

Likewise, the supposed rivalry between the new imperial faction and Chancellor Maynard’s group might only be political theater.

Currently, a delicate balance existed among the Emperor, the imperial family, and the loyalists of the late emperor.

And it was now, at this moment, that balance was beginning to tilt.

Despite claiming it to be the Emperor’s firstborn, Reichardt strongly opposed allowing the child—conceived outside the palace—to be born within it.

Having long been heirless, the Emperor was under growing pressure.

Most of the imperial family followed the Emperor’s lead without question, but this move was different.

Though the Emperor trusted Reichardt despite his potential threat, this event marked the start of others attacking the Grand Duke without consequence.

Reichardt’s status protected him from disgrace, but troublesome entanglements became more frequent and irritating.

“So in other words,”

Reichardt said with a flat face and dull tone.

Alicia frowned slightly.

“Are you worried Lady Maude’s child might not actually be the Emperor’s?”

That couldn’t be it.

“His Majesty isn’t that foolish. But even so, we have to consider even the slimmest possibility. According to imperial custom, the firstborn child of the reigning Emperor is granted the right to succession.”

Reichardt’s words implied multiple political implications.

“Doesn’t the royal family use the ‘Royal Dot’ to verify bloodlines?”

Alicia asked as if it were obvious, her tone roughening toward the end.

At the term “Royal Dot,” Reichardt’s expression changed.

Though he believed in her prophecies, he hadn’t expected her to know that.

Alicia had learned about the Royal Dot because of this very incident.

A child conceived outside the palace—the Emperor’s supposed firstborn.

Due to rampant rumors and unpredictable circumstances, the Emperor had revealed that he had confirmed the child’s legitimacy using the Royal Dot.

“Alicia.”

“Yes?”

“I also have a Royal Dot. His Majesty and all his direct siblings have it too. So did the late Emperor and his siblings. Do you understand what that means?”

With this incident, the world learned just how cold-hearted the royal family could be.

Whenever the Emperor had a child, the palace used a harmless reagent—safe only for royals—to induce the appearance of the Royal Dot.

If no dot appeared, the child was considered never to have been born, and the concubine who bore it would be eliminated.

Since no concubine had ever been publicly expelled for illegitimacy, one could guess the pattern.

The Royal Dot was, literally, a mark.

Exactly where and how it looked was unknown, but it appeared only with a specific reagent.

Only the Emperor, his direct siblings, and their legitimate children possessed the dot.

Even the children of his direct siblings might have it.

But the existence of the Royal Dot among collateral royal lines was not widely known.

“So, Your Grace could have a child and confirm it with the Royal Dot too?”

“Yes.”

“Do children of collateral royals use the Royal Dot to confirm paternity?”

“No.”

“If a child of Your Grace didn’t confirm the dot and then had a child of their own, would it appear then with the reagent?”

“Yes.”

The Royal Dot was an impressive tool, but not without flaws.

If a concubine conceived a child with the late Emperor’s brothers or with the Emperor’s siblings, it would be indistinguishable.

“Do you suspect your brothers, then?”

“If there’s even the slightest possibility, I have to consider it.”

Reichardt’s face as he spoke was cold, almost frosty.

Not only the Emperor, but the entire royal family monitored the movements of its members thoroughly.

Lady Maude was officially due to give birth in April.

But the actual delivery was expected to occur at the end of February.

At the time of conception, Reichardt had been stationed in Tessen continuously.

Though Lady Maude’s movements were harder to track, she had remained mostly in the capital.

The Emperor and the royal family would surely scrutinize the timeline.

“Your Grace. It’s His Majesty’s first child.”

Alicia repeated the words she had spoken earlier.

It was her way of saying that upsetting the Emperor would do no one any good.

“That child…”

Just as Reichardt was about to respond, Alicia cut in.

“The imperial succession law states that the throne is passed to the Emperor’s first child. But has there ever been an empress regnant since the founding of the Empire? Those who follow the succession law always adhere to the unspoken clause as well—passing the throne to the first male child born of the Empress. If the Empress fails to bear a prince, it is given to the first son of a concubine.”

Reichardt’s expression turned complex as he listened to Alicia’s words.

She closed her mouth and gave a bitter smile.

The imagined downfall of Marquis Maynard stirred both satisfaction and sadness in her.

“Alicia.”

At his call, Alicia rose slightly in the gently swaying carriage.

Her face leaned in close to Reichardt’s cheek.

By his stiffened ear, her lips curved in a subtle smile.

“A new season is coming, Your Grace. It’s time for the next prophecy. And here it is: His Majesty will be blessed with a daughter.”

Reichardt’s face hardened in a peculiar way.

Clunk.

The carriage suddenly jolted again.

“Ah!”

Bending forward as she stood, Alicia fell squarely onto Reichardt’s lap.

Her calm purple eyes widened in surprise.

Reichardt, who reflexively caught her as she stumbled, also froze.

Their gazes locked for a moment.

A very brief moment that seemed to stretch out slowly.

Like time stood still, they stared at each other without moving.

Alicia finally regained her senses and quickly stood up.

For some reason, Reichardt—who had been holding her just a second ago—was now seated on the opposite bench.

An awkward silence filled the air.

The hoofbeats of horses broke the stillness.

Roderick, who had been keeping a distance, rode up and called through the window.

“Your Grace, are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Fall back.”

Reichardt responded in a low voice, speaking toward the window.

Roderick, confused that the Grand Duke’s voice came from the opposite side than expected, obeyed without question.

He assumed it was just an echo or misjudgment due to not seeing inside.

Alicia felt her face warm slightly.

“My apologies.”

She managed to say in a composed tone, pretending nothing had happened.

“It’s fine.”

Reichardt replied, his gaze fixed on the sealed window.

Alicia wanted to give her restless hands and awkward gaze something to do.

The teacup, now sitting beside Reichardt, felt like a lost treasure.

Because of the accidental seat swap, it was out of reach.

It felt oddly difficult to say something as simple as “Can we switch seats?”

“……”

The air between them grew increasingly stilted.

“Alicia.”

“Yes, Your Grace?”

Reichardt, still staring out the window, finally turned to look at her.

“I trust everything you’ve said. But don’t you think speaking about royal births carries too much risk?”

His words made Alicia’s expression change.

The earlier awkwardness was quickly swept away.

“It is His Majesty’s first child.”

Alicia said this for the third time.

“Even if it’s a girl, the succession law can’t be ignored.”

“Then if it’s a son conceived outside the palace, discuss succession later. If it’s a daughter, declare she has no succession rights. But in either case, offer sincere congratulations—since it is His Majesty’s first child.”

Alicia winced at the stubborn response.

“And what if my brother has no more heirs? That child would then be the only successor.”

Reichardt calmly pointed out the source of his unease.

For someone of royal blood, and the Emperor’s brother, succession impacted not only him but the entire realm.

It wasn’t just a family issue—it was a matter of national stability.

“That can’t… be…”

Alicia began to reply, then abruptly stopped.

She caught herself quickly—but her tone had already revealed too much.

“……”

Reichardt’s gaze locked onto her.

His golden eyes blinked, then widened in realization as they focused on her flustered face.

There was a stunned pause in his stare, but gradually, emotion stirred behind it.

Alicia’s face twisted with regret.

And Reichardt could not tear his eyes away from her expression as she tried to compose herself.