Kitten Blue Eyes (3)

The Emperor’s private audience chamber had been brightened in preparation for the coming summer.

They had taken down the dark, solemn tapestries and hung ones embroidered with fresh leaves.

The audience room, arranged for a refreshing mood, was quiet.

Even the teacups had been switched to simpler patterns in light colors, yet the room felt heavy.

As Marquis Lennox and Count Istevna raised their cups, they kept sneaking side glances.

Today again, the Emperor was beautiful like an angel in a ceiling painting.

His sky-blue eyes looked at his two younger brothers, then flicked toward a pillar of the audience chamber.

On the marble pillar adorned with gold and veined with bluish gray, there remained a wound as if someone had struck it with a hammer.

Setting down his teacup, Marquis Lennox haltingly opened his mouth.

“There is no end to accidents in the north.”

“I see.”

The Emperor replied perfunctorily to Marquis Lennox.

The accidental death of Valdemar Rain, Marquess of Rain.

The Barony of Miller—an important vassal of House Rain—being hauled before a religious court.

On the surface, the North looked precarious, but in truth it was not so.

Yesterday, Reichardt had arrived in Rain.

According to the report that came the day before yesterday, all of the Marquess of Rain’s retainers were to receive the Grand Duke of Tessen.

It could be taken that the new Marquess Rain had seized control of the house.

The Marquess of Rain planned to escort the Grand Duke of Tessen on a light ride.

To show the marquessate’s soundness, the walking route would likely include the place where the former Marquess Rain had met with his accident.

If it were the Emperor himself, that is what he would do.

“Your Majesty, I would like to consult you about Pauline’s birthing bed.”

Count Istevna, who had only been watching the mood, set down his cup and spoke.

The Emperor nodded.

Marquis Lennox inwardly felt relieved.

It was a proposal that might redirect the attention of the Emperor, who looked in a very poor mood.

He had, at the right time, cut the flow.

“I shall take my leave first.”

To the marquis’s bow, the Emperor only nodded again.

Nothing good would come of crossing the absolute ruler’s mood.

For now, bending low and avoiding the Emperor’s gaze was the wisest course.

Marquis Lennox carefully exited the audience chamber.

Waiting for the door to close, Count Istevna smiled ingratiatingly.

“Pauline is embarrassed and says she doesn’t want to set up a birthing room in the palace, brother.”

“To care for newborns well, the palace is better, isn’t it.”

The Emperor, who had been casting a drab mood, changed to a lighter expression at the thought of the nephew to be born.

It was a time when direct imperial grandchildren were worryingly scarce.

“We will manage well at the count’s house.”

“With twins, the risk is greater. Pauline may change her mind.”

Above all, the Emperor liked children.

Not only the Emperor; the current imperial kin all liked children.

“Will she change?”

Count Istevna thought of Pauline.

Even in normal times, beginning a week before coming to the palace, Pauline would feel burdened and have nightmares.

“She might.”

The Emperor stated the unlikely with firmness.

Count Istevna gazed quietly at the Emperor, whose judgment was better than anyone’s.

“The Marquess of Rain’s power is growing too large.”

The lips that had been spreading a faint smile spoke gently.

At the count’s words, the Emperor set down his cup and replied.

“Rain is too far away.”

“I will look into it.”

“Kain, when the twins are born, I will raise your title to marquess.”

The Emperor patted the back of Count Istevna’s hand, showing closeness.

“Your Majesty, rather than favoring a nephew not yet born, please give it as a gift to commemorate your younger brother’s birthday.”

“Shall I?”

Kain Istevna nodded like a boy craving attention.

“Then let’s do so. In that case—well, this should be by imperial decree. Kain, persuade Pauline to give birth in the palace. I trust you’ll do well.”

“……I will try. I take my leave.”

The Emperor scattered a smile at the count’s sullen face.

He gently waved a hand toward that sulky face.

The smiling visage shone like the angel in the ceiling painting.

Count Istevna started to voice a complaint, then turned and left the audience chamber.

Tap.

Hearing the door of the audience chamber close, Kain changed the direction of his body, which had been heading down the corridor.

He threw his large frame onto the waiting bench set before the audience chamber door.

The Emperor’s chief chamberlain and maids bowed their faces to hide their expressions.

It seemed the Emperor had once again assigned some tiresome task to Count Istevna.

Since his days as a prince, Kain Istevna had the sort of personality to lie down anywhere and laugh heartily with anyone.

Resting his head on the bench’s armrest, Kain rolled his supine body onto his side.

The rustling noise was unbecoming of a decorous imperial.

The face covered by his arm had gone dark and dull.

“Too much.”

The servants, peeking at the count muttering and grumbling to himself, bowed their faces even deeper.

He knew the watching eyes found it entertaining, but Kain did not care.

He was serious.

Originally, Kain had planned to praise before the Emperor both Pauline’s entreaty and Alicia Rain’s help.

When the moment felt right, he had thought to broach whether Alicia should be designated godmother to the twins to be born.

But Lennox had babbled nonsense.

‘You idiot…!’

He nearly let his inner voice slip out loud.

At any rate, soothing the Emperor’s mood became Kain’s task because of that.

Pauline had fallen hard for Alicia Rain.

She said she envied how Alicia rode well, wielded a spear well, and carried herself with confidence even before the knights.

A person who had never made friends, upon meeting someone fit to be a friend, could lose their head like someone in first love.

Kain was not entirely keen on Pauline keeping Alicia as a friend.

But since Pauline liked her, he intended to cooperate.

Since it was true Alicia had saved Pauline and the twins, making her godmother was fitting as well.

But today, it seemed the Emperor had gone on alert regarding the Marquess of Rain.

At the center of that was Alicia Rain.

“Damn that Reichardt.”

Alicia Rain had not only Pauline but also Reichardt’s soul wrapped around her finger.

He could not know by what means, but the state was serious.

When Alicia left for Rain because of Marquess Valdemar Rain’s accident, as soon as the Emperor heard the news, he ordered the Grand Duke of Tessen to keep to himself.

It was a precaution to prevent a royal from going north—where a succession issue might explode—and falling into danger.

Reichardt was confined only within Baden; there were no other restrictions.

The day after Alicia Rain returned to the marquessate.

Reichardt stormed into the Emperor’s private audience chamber, where the brothers were having morning tea.

‘Your Majesty, no! Your Highness the Grand Duke!’

Kain could not forget the desperate cry the chief chamberlain had let out that day.

Reichardt, storming into the audience chamber alone and barehanded, hurled the large, weighty tea table and flipped it over.

“Madman.”

Without even a breath out of place, Reichardt tossed the Emperor’s tea table aside and said he would depart tomorrow.

‘I do not permit it.’

Though the Emperor looked taken aback, he only snorted at the show of force.

‘I’ll come again tomorrow.’

Reichardt warned with audacity.

As if it were a childish fight the brothers might have growing up, he threatened the Emperor.

A complete lunatic.

It was a situation where immediate arrest for treason would not have been strange, yet he showed no sense of danger.

As in his warning, the next day—and the day after that—Reichardt upended the audience chamber.

In the Emperor and Grand Duke’s quarrel, the only one dying every morning was the powerless Kain himself.

‘Fight your crazy fight without me.’

Kain grew sick of the fight between his youngest brother—who seemed to have lost his mind upon late-blooming romance—and his eldest brother, a personality oddity who never yielded a single move in political strife.

For several mornings, Marquis Lennox and Kain cursed at Reichardt’s back as he left.

-See, I told you—fall in love earlier in life.

-Tsk, tsk, tsk.

-All brawn and no sense.

-Immune to romance, so he falls head over heels and loses his head.

-First love at that age?

In those few days, Kain tasted hell.

Every morning, Reichardt turned the Emperor’s audience chamber upside down.

Every evening, Pauline strangled him with perfect logic as to why Alicia must be the twins’ godmother.

Though shy by nature, when Pauline set her mind to persuade, she choked her counterpart’s windpipe with perfect reasoning.

Her words left no room for rebuttal.

“…Ah, I’m ruined…….”

Since the Emperor had become wary of the Marquess of Rain, he could not even voice Pauline’s request.

He could already see Pauline shutting her mouth and staring at him in dismay.

Had no one been around, Kain would have flailed and cried.

“Haa.”

He sat up and let out a long sigh.

Footsteps were approaching from that side.

Kain raised a finger to his lips toward the chief chamberlain and maids looking up, asking them not to spread rumors, and stood.

“Oh—Your Highness? You were here.”

Kain Istevna spread a dazzling smile at the person who approached and greeted him as if they were acquaintances.

“Sir Berea. I’m glad to run into you. Let’s go together.”

In the back of the noble walking with him down the corridor, there was no trace of the grumbling man from moments before.

Stepping into the great corridor, Kain again motioned to the attendants before the audience chamber not to gossip and spread a cheerful smile.

“Goodness, people here are too much. The northern folk are hard-hearted, Your Highness.”

Roderick held a short quill with simple ornament.

He complained while quickly jotting in the notebook he held in his other hand.

“Are they?”

Reichardt sat on a plush sofa, his feet up on a stool.

“They say this building was newly refitted, but it’s far from the main house, and a long way from the South Annex as well. They say northern people are lacking in warmth and tact—this is beyond the rumors.”

What the Marquess of Rain had provided as the Grand Duke’s lodging was a standalone building at the farthest north of the western wing of the marquess’s residence.

“Is that so? I can’t really tell.”

Reichardt answered halfheartedly.

He was simply astonished.

Roderick poured out complaints while never stopping his notes.

The skill of writing something while speaking on an unrelated topic struck Reichardt as a mysterious ability.

It was precisely that ability for which Reichardt had appointed Roderick his aide.

“The Marquess of Rain says the season isn’t good for a hunt—how about a light ride to stroll the vicinity. The marquess, Sir Harry, and the house retainers are to accompany. From the imperial delegation’s side: Your Highness with about ten escort knights; as for other participants, they say any number is fine, so long as Your Highness vouches for them.”

“We’ll take the entire guard.”

“Excellent. I’ll limit the other participants to about two. Frankly, the condition the marquessate put up is offensive. ‘If Your Highness vouches for them, any number is fine’—isn’t that telling us to screen our own people properly? The event is to show the house’s unity, so it likely isn’t a trap, but I consider it an impertinent demand.”

Roderick wrinkled his nose, full of complaints.

“In Rain, the Marquess of Rain is king.”

Reichardt spoke lightly.

Roderick stopped writing and quickly glanced about.

“Your Highness…!”

To come as an imperial envoy and call a lord a king—if someone heard, it would be serious.

“The new Marquess Rain’s temperament seems unusual. For having seized all the retainers in so short a time, the impression is gentle. Rather like the former marquess’s good-natured face. Not easy to handle from afar.”

“The new marquess? I found the temperament agreeable. If anything, Sir Harry is……”

At Roderick’s words, Reichardt knit his brows.

“A temperament like the Viscount of Gaeller’s isn’t uncommon among nobles. Such a person instantly grasps hierarchies. Step on them a few times, and they either bend and enter—or else they bend of their own accord from the outset. Any houses among the retainers here that warrant a look?”

“I’ll find out. But, Your Highness……”

“No need to rush. In any case, that much is not my concern.”