Chapter – 13
He even stared at Reneb intently.
“…?”
Reneb tilted her head in confusion at Icar’s reaction and sat down beside Selma.
The head seat at the table was empty, Icar sat across from Selma, and Dhan sat opposite Reneb.
“Really, you’re unrecognizable!”
In truth, she had been a little… no, quite disheveled on the way here. After washing up and sprucing herself up, her aura had brightened considerably.
Reneb quickly scanned Selma and noticed that the sparkling hair accessory was the highlight of her outfit today.
“The silver ornament suits your pale skin beautifully, my lady.”
Selma’s expression brightened, as if her comment had been exactly right.
Clatter.
At that moment, the maids wheeled in a trolley into the dining room.
Afterward, a comfortable meal with occasional conversation followed. Mostly, Selma asked questions while Icar responded tersely, as if annoyed—just like now.
“What do you do in your leisure time, Lord Dhan?”
“Leisure…? There’s hardly any time for that.”
Icar cut the veiny calf steak with a knife, giving a brief reply. Selma, sensing the conversation stalling again, let out a low groan.
“Ah… I see.”
Then, as if she had thought of a new question, she spoke again.
“Oh! I heard that Lord Dhan has a younger sister around my age.”
“That’s correct. And a very cute one at that.”
A faint smile tugged at Icar’s eyes.
Perhaps because his otherwise indifferent demeanor had softened slightly, Selma quickly asked,
“I’m planning to participate in this year’s Foundation Festival as a debutante. Could you introduce me to your sister then?”
“Gah…”
Dhan, who had been quietly eating, choked slightly. Selma, noticing, signaled a nearby maid to bring water, asking with concern:
“Are you alright, Lord Bain?”
“Yes, of course. However… my lady, it’s a bit delicate to talk about someone else’s sister.”
“….”
“I’m afraid I cannot introduce Lord Dhan’s sister to you.”
Selma looked at Icar in question.
“Why not, Lord Dhan?”
“She probably won’t attend the Foundation Festival.”
Icar answered as he glanced at Dhan.
“Exactly. My—or rather, Lord Dhan’s—sister wouldn’t be suitable to mingle with graceful young ladies like yourselves.”
“…Is that so?”
Selma pressed her cheek and looked disappointed, while Reneb cast a sympathetic glance at Dhan.
She felt a sort of camaraderie with him, being put in a difficult situation because of Icar.
Just like she had lived as Empress, walking on thin ice every day under Emperor Lucius’ watchful eyes, Dhan too looked more exhausted than when they first met.
“….”
Icar’s gaze, which had been fixed on Reneb, shifted to Dhan.
Dhan flinched slightly at the piercing intensity, asking nervously,
“Why… why are you staring at me like that, Lord Dhan?”
Icar drank wine without answering. Reneb lowered her eyes and watched Dhan.
And silently thought:
‘Stay strong, Dhan. Don’t give in.’
Dhan, unaware of Reneb’s thoughts, tilted his head in confusion, and Selma spoke again.
“Oh, I heard that dyeing hair is a trend in the Paradium Empire these days. So did you dye this silver hair, my lady?”
Reneb recalled the excuse Icar had given.
“Yes. I dyed it too. It’s very fashionable among Paradium nobles nowadays.”
She glanced at Icar to make sure her lie wouldn’t be exposed. Unexpectedly, he seemed curious.
“So, what color was it originally?”
Her brown hair—her original color—she replied, slightly annoyed but keeping up the story.
“Brown. It was brown.”
Reneb went along with it. Selma, nodding as if understanding something, said,
“Brown is pretty too, but this pearly silver suits you perfectly. Maybe I should try dyeing my hair too?”
“Thank you. But seeing your pretty brown hair makes me a little regret dyeing mine.”
“Really?”
Selma’s face flushed at Reneb’s compliment.
Meanwhile, Reneb silently hoped the meal would end soon. She wished Selma wouldn’t ask more questions, and Dhan seemed to avoid meeting Selma’s eyes, burying his face in his plate.
Still, Selma kept asking questions, and somehow Icar’s mood seemed a little off.
As soon as the meal ended, Dhan tried to escape to his room.
But a deep voice behind him made him stop dead in his tracks.
“Bain.”
Dhan forced a smile and turned around.
“Yes, Lord Dhan. How may I serve you?”
Icar exuded an intimidating aura as he stared straight at Dhan.
Dhan instinctively straightened his hands and swallowed dryly. He had done nothing but follow the emperor’s orders in this ridiculous act.
Yet just a glance from Icar made his throat dry.
“…Enough.”
Icar clicked his tongue and started walking ahead.
Dhan let out a quiet sigh of relief and cautiously glanced around.
Seeing no one nearby, he followed Icar and whispered:
“Your Majesty.”
“Yes?”
“Why did you impersonate me and introduce me as Bain to the young lady of Paradium?”
“Just happened that way.”
Dhan fell silent after Icar’s answer.
“Do you have any objections?”
“No, none at all.”
Dhan nodded vigorously. As Icar moved toward his assigned bedroom, he added, as if remembering something:
“Any news from Bain?”
“I was just about to report it.”
“Come in.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Once inside Icar’s bedroom, Dhan reported what he had received through a messenger bird.
“Marchioness Siren has submitted a petition to the Paradium royal family.”
Icar leaned back on the sofa, slowly running his thumb over his lower lip, and asked:
“And the royal family’s response?”
“The empress consort strongly opposed it as well.”
“And the Empress?”
“She’s locked herself in her chamber, refusing to meet anyone. The situation isn’t expected to change.”
Icar propped his chin on the armrest, and his crimson eyes gleamed sharply.
“What about the investigation regarding Marchioness Siren?”
“Bain is looking into it.”
“Hurry.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
It was almost midnight when Dhan left Icar’s room after reporting.
Icar leaned against the headboard, eyes closed.
‘So he slept until Bain came near the cave…’
Had he ever slept that soundly before? Even in the battlefield, after over seventy-two hours without proper rest, he had never slept this deeply.
After the night he slept with Reneb, he thought his old insomnia had been cured, but now he was wide awake, as usual.
In the palace, sleepless nights weren’t too burdensome due to the many tasks at hand.
‘Does His Majesty manage both work and romance?’
Icar muttered bitterly, recalling something Bain had said.
“So that really was the case.”
Crackle.
Reneb sat in front of the fireplace, staring blankly at the flames.
She recalled events from this time in the past.
The day she left for Bashker was actually the day Lucius had proposed. After that, their marriage came swiftly.
She became crown princess, then Empress when Lucius ascended the throne. And when she was expecting her first child, news came of Marchioness Siren’s demise.
Though it was now a future that would not come to pass, unease rose within her.
“Let’s think about the distant future later.”
With a faint sigh, Reneb pushed her worries aside and lay down.
“Mm…”
She seemed to have dozed off while thinking, and soon it was morning.
Though she didn’t have much to pack, she checked her room once more before leaving.
She met Icar, who had just opened his bedroom door.
Icar, brushing back slightly messy bangs, nodded lightly at Reneb.
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
“Not really. It wasn’t a comfortable night.”
Reneb tilted her head in puzzlement. Icar strode ahead, and Reneb hurried to catch up.
In the dining room, Dhan greeted them.
“Good morning, my lady.”
“Good morning, Lord Bain.”
Reneb noticed Selma’s seat was empty and asked:
“Is Miss Jules-Verne running late?”
“The young lady isn’t feeling well today. She apologized for keeping you three waiting.”
Reneb poured water into her cup, asking with concern:
“I see… is she alright?”
“She occasionally suffers from fevers. She’s been given soup and medicine, so she should show her face before you depart.”
Reneb’s expression softened.
“Hope she recovers quickly.”
“Thank you. I’ll let her know you were concerned. If you need anything, please call.”
After the butler left, the morning meal continued quietly. Both Icar and Dhan, naturally reserved, focused on their food.
“….”
Reneb, used to taking the lead as Empress, thought to break the silence, but quickly reconsidered.
She was no longer an empress.
Nor the mistress of this castle. There was no need to forcefully ease the awkward atmosphere.
With that thought came a strange sense of liberation, mixed with a slight sense of loss.
‘Stop thinking about pointless things.’
Reneb lifted her head when she felt someone’s gaze. Icar’s stare seemed unusually intense.
“…?”
She blinked, thinking she had something to say, but Icar rose from his seat without a word.
“If you’ve finished eating, let’s depart.”
Dhan’s hand froze mid-motion, reaching for bread.
‘There’s still someone eating here.’
Reneb gave him a questioning look, but Icar simply moved toward the door.
Perhaps accustomed to the emperor’s indifference, Dhan also rose without complaint.
Reneb once again cast a sympathetic glance at Dhan.
He looks so exhausted serving a cold, indifferent emperor.
Dhan, oblivious, tilted his head like a fool.
