Chapter 101

Though he had never confessed it to anyone, what Ebroin V cherished most in his daily routine was the time after his bedtime ceremony had ended and the doors of the Balustre had closed behind him.

It was the only time he could truly be alone. Once the canopy of his bed was drawn and all the attendants dismissed from the chamber, he was at last able to face himself, not as the Emperor, but as an individual.

There was no need to issue orders, no gazes to be conscious of. There was no need to face an opponent across the board, measuring every word like a move in chess, constantly engaged in sharp, strategic confrontation. In the life of an Emperor, where even a moment’s silence could be dissected from every angle, such unburdened stillness was rare indeed.

And yet not even that is allowed tonight.

Ebroin V let out a vexed sigh as he opened his weary eyes. His mind was far too unsettled to sleep, the midnight quiet shattered by an inner clamor. He could escape others, if only for a while, but there was no fleeing from himself, not even for a moment.

Countless thoughts surged in and out of his head, disorderly and relentless. The constitutional amendment of Lex Ardica by imperial decree. The inevitable backlash from the aristocratic faction that would arise. The eastern nobles moving with more force than he had anticipated.There is something larger at work. It does not look like they are simply hoping to reclaim lost power.

What was the ultimate goal of the Duke of La Mer? And then there was his foolish cousin, almost certainly plotting treason, emboldened by enemy intelligence networks running unchecked throughout the empire.

If he wanted to bring them all down in one blow once the matter was settled, he would have to begin adjusting security along the coastline now. But the Marquis of La Baille, shaken as he was, still needed time to collect himself.

His temples throbbed from the incessant thoughts. Pressing his fingers to them, Ebroin V tried in vain to clear his mind. At last, unable to endure it any longer, he sprang from the bed.

Just as a beggar had his own burdens, so too did an Emperor. It wasn’t often, but on nights like this, Ebroin V suffered terribly. When even his sole moment of rest was consumed by insomnia and unrest, the exhaustion clung to him for days, not just in his body but in spirit.

Feeling the need to empty his head, he slipped out of bed and into his slippers. Draping a light dressing gown over his bare torso, he prepared to leave the room. On nights like this, he needed a person, desperately so. A lover who offered warmth without questions, a body to bury his thoughts in, like a lull.

I must be insane.

Ebroin V recalled, for what must have been the hundredth time, the phrase he kept muttering to himself.

This is insanity beyond help.

From experience, he knew that only a gentle, enveloping embrace could soothe a night like this. But Eugène, with his taciturn ways, had never suited that role.

It wasn’t as if he had brought the man to his side for the usual duties of an ordinary lover. That stubborn, sharp-tempered man, who would strike someone for sex that didn’t please him, who’d openly wound a man’s pride, might be someone to stand shoulder to shoulder with in adversity, but never someone to lean on in moments of weariness.

He told himself all that, and yet, when he came to his senses, his steps were already carrying him toward the man. After what had occurred several days ago, Eugène was likely still fuming, and showing up without notice would hardly be met with a warm welcome. In his current state of mind, being turned away at the door might even sting, for all that he was, though for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to turn back.

He made his way through the dark passageway with only a single lamp in hand and came to a familiar stretch of wall. When he triggered the hidden mechanism in its particular way, the wall opened smoothly. Perhaps it was because he had made frequent use of it of late, but the secret door moved without the slightest hitch.

He had already prepared himself for the possibility that it was too late, that the man might already be asleep. But as he emerged from the passageway, he saw a light. Fortunately, it seemed he wasn’t the only one unable to sleep tonight.

Eugène’s room lay quiet in stillness. Due to the hot weather, all the windows were left open, and thick, acrid incense burned on the sills to chase off the insects. A gentle summer breeze stirred the heavy air now and then, carrying with it the scent of smoldering wax.

Everything about the scene spoke of a typical summer night but oddly, Eugène’s appearance did not match the languid atmosphere.

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Eugène’s ash-gray eyelashes, usually barely noticeable due to their light pigmentation, cast a faint shadow over his patrician cheekbones. His face, set in stern stillness, was unreadable as stone, so devoid of expression that it seemed almost cold, more ascetic than composed.

Ebroin V tapped lightly on the table as if knocking. Eugène, unaware that someone had approached until the Emperor was standing right before him, lifted his head belatedly.

“Ah, Your Majesty…”

He let out a low exclamation and called out instinctively. As the dazed look in his eyes, like one just roused from sleep, regained focus, a clear expression returned to his formerly blank face. Regrettably, it was not one of welcome.

“When did Your Majesty arrive?”

Blinking slowly, he seemed to only now register the Emperor’s presence. He shot to his feet and offered a proper greeting. Ebroin V hadn’t expected him to greet him with the bashful delight of a typical concubine, but he had never imagined that he would react like a soldier who had encountered his superior while on duty either. Eugène’s ever-unpredictable demeanor left the Emperor chuckling in disbelief once again.

“What had you so absorbed that you did not even notice someone entering?”

“I was in the midst of reviewing some materials for an investigation.”

“‘General Breuter’s Treatise on Advanced Tactical Operations in Artillery Units: A Strategic Review of the Defeat in the Second Landrienne Campaign,’ ‘The Letters of Renatus,’and‘The Imperial Geography Compendium Compiled by the Imperial Geographical Society of the La Royale University (7th Revised Edition),’… A rather fascinating selection.”

The books piled on the table all bore the seal of the Imperial Library. This meant that they were not books he personally owned. The selection was so all over the place, it was impossible to tell what standard he had used to borrow them.

The Emperor absentmindedly leafed through the books, trying to deduce what it was that Eugène had been investigating. But when Eugène simply remained standing there in silence, he turned to him with a puzzled look. Though they shared the same bed, there had always been a certain psychological distance between them, but tonight, that distance felt even more pronounced than usual.What is it?He asked silently with a glance. In response, Eugène gave him a faint, bitter smile.

“To be honest, I am not quite yet certain that I am on the right track. I still know far too little, and considering the nature of the matter, it is not something that can be handled through mere conjecture.”

“I told you to rest for a while since you were feeling unwell, and yet it seems you have gone and brought more worries upon yourself again.”

Though the Emperor scolded him, he nonetheless seemed concerned, lightly touching Eugène’s forehead with the back of his hand to check for a fever. Eugène looked somewhat startled by the unexpected contact, but he did not pull away and remained where he was.

“Fortunately, it does not seem like the fever is still lingering. Are you feeling unwell anywhere?”

“I am not that weak.”

“Even so, is it not my rightful duty as your lover to look after you? Once was more than enough to be blamed for not treating you with proper care.”

“Did I do that?”

Eugène asked back, with a trace of distaste, as if he had been falsely accused. The Emperor smiled and gestured toward his own shoulder.

“You struck me, claiming I was too harsh. There is still a bruise here, you know.”

The altercation had taken place only three or four days prior, so it was hardly a case of ‘still’ being bruised. But at the Emperor’s remark, Eugène recalled the incident he had entirely forgotten, and his expression grew visibly more troubled.

“Now that Your Majesty mentions it… the bruise… Did you receive treatment from the court physician? May I examine it myself?”

“Now? We have barely exchanged a few words, and already you would have me undress?”

“Your Majesty.”

“This is rather disappointing. I had expected, at the very least, a tender kiss and a sweet whisper. Even a fish already caught ought to be fed, no?”

Though he spoke as if seizing upon an opportunity to tease, the one truly yearning was not Eugène but the Emperor. Even dressed to the last detail with not a single seam out of place, he did not seem to feel the heat. As Eugène drew closer, the scent of his body, noticeably heavier than usual, lingered in the air. It was unmasked by any cosmetic fragrance, the natural scent of bare skin. There was a faint tang of salt, lending it a raw vividness, as though the physical presence of flesh had been made more palpable.

“That was not the intent behind my words…… Your Majesty.”

“Hush. Read the mood. This is hardly the moment for such remarks.”

The hair brushing against the nape of his neck was dark, like deep ash. Uncommon among noblemen, his skin was bronzed with a healthy tan, now dampened by the heat. The Emperor grasped the lapels of his vest with both hands and unfastened the buttons, one by one, at a leisurely pace. As the golden hue in his eyes deepened with heat, Eugène stiffened visibly.

“Had another said so, I would have scoffed at the sentiment as overly romantic. But you truly do smell like the sea.”

Murmuring as though in awe, the Emperor tilted his head and pressed his lips to Eugène’s damp skin, drawing in a deep kiss. When his lips, soft as silk, touched bare flesh, Eugène instinctively flinched, his shoulders giving a small jolt. From his unconscious movements, a faint trace of resistance, one he had thought entirely vanished, still lingered.

However, the Emperor feigned ignorance. It will not be easy to assume a role so utterly opposed to the position he had enjoyed all his life. Ebroin V was no unscrupulous libertine who would blame his partner for being unaccustomed to a man’s embrace.

“Your Majesty…”

The Emperor let the vest fall to the floor, hastily pulling up the hem of Eugène’s shirt from where it was tucked neatly into trousers tailored to sit close around a firm waist, and left a harsh bite mark on his neck. Beneath his tightly pressed fingertips, the smooth movement of muscle could be felt vividly. Perhaps thanks to that, it was not difficult for him to perceive that, as time passed, rather than relaxing, his partner’s tension was only growing sharper.

It was not even this bad the first time I held him…

That faint suspicion grew heavier in the Emperor’s mind until Eugène let out a quiet sigh and caught him by the wrist, halting his movements. For a gesture that came after such prolonged hesitation, it was surprisingly firm. Ebroin V had no choice but to stop, though his body had been fully stirred, and looked at him.

“There is something I must say to Your Majesty.”

“I do not know if I have said this before, but I truly dislike conversations that begin in such a fashion. A costly lesson I have earned through long experience.”

The Emperor grumbled, yet withdrew from him without protest. Crossing his arms with a displeased expression and leaning against the table, he looked every bit the sulking boy. Eugène bit the inside of his cheek, uncertain how to begin, then dropped his gaze to the pile of books between them.

“Must it truly be now? I wonder if this matter you wish to raise is related to whatever it is you have been investigating.”

Ebroin V, quick to read the meaning in that wandering gaze, posed the question with a measuring tone. Eugène, meeting that sharp insight, gave a bitter smile and nodded gravely.

“It is, Your Majesty.”

At that reply, the Emperor once again swept his eyes across the table.

“‘The Letters of Renatus’… Surely this Renatus is not the one I am thinking of?”

“If Your Majesty refers to the late Abbess Renatus, formerly of Renan Convent, then your guess is not mistaken.”

“So the miser was in possession of an ill-suited pastime, it seems. A collection of letters, of all things… Were there truly those close enough to her to exchange personal correspondence?”

“She passed quite some time ago, yet Your Majesty remembers her clearly.”

“I never met her in person, but I heard no shortage of tales. She hailed from the same region as the Empress Mother and had studied alongside her in the convent. Using that connection as a pretext, she clung rather shamelessly to the Empress during her lifetime. After the Second Landrienne Campaign, she was to be reassigned elsewhere but lost her post, and it was only with some difficulty that another convent was secured for her. And yet, once appointed, she treated the nuns under her charge as though they were mere serfs at the loom. Because of that, the Empress Mother received no end of resentment.”

The Emperor recounted all this with composure until he happened upon theImperial Geography Compendium, buried among the other books, and abruptly fell silent. He furrowed his brow slowly, recalling a detail he had first skimmed over, then turned to Eugène.

“The Seventh Revised Edition?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Are you aware that the Imperial Geographical Society has issued a new edition every ten years since they first compiled the Imperial Geography Compendium? I believe that it has been revised ten times so far.”

“I am fully aware, Your Majesty.”

Once again, the Emperor’s keen intuition proved itself.

“…I must confess, I do not understand. What reason could there be to investigate the Second Landriene Campaign now?”

For one as astute as Ebroin V, there was little difference between being shown a question and being shown the answer. To him, there was only a difference in process. However, he responded with caution when it came to drawing conclusions beyond the information at hand.

He governed not without cause, nor judged without proof. As the Empress Mother had often emphasized, a sovereign must be prepared to make the correct decision at every possible moment, and thus, ‘is not entitled to prejudice.’

“There is something I wish to understand about that time.”

Eugène paused a moment, then corrected himself.

“There is something I want to know about the events of that time.”

Eugène thought for a moment and then corrected his own words.

“No, more precisely, I find myself confronted with a task that must be resolved.”

He was not the sort to speak frivolously. The Emperor, sensing this by instinct, understood that the matter Eugène brought forth was not trivial.

“Then I am ready to listen. Tell me in greater detail.”

As soon as he grasped the weight of the matter, the Emperor’s demeanor shifted. It was as though he had donned a new mask, transforming in an instant from a lover to the monarch of a nation. The eyes that had until moments ago been alight with heady heat, like spiced wine warmed over a flame, now cooled into sharp lucidity. Straightening from his formerly languid posture, he assumed the stillness of frost, his reason now honed like a blade as he gave Eugène his full attention.

A day that had begun tangled was unlikely to end smoothly. Though midnight had long passed, what had already been a day full to the brim was clearly far from over.