Chapter 38: The Concubine on the Tree

“I am overwhelmed by Your Majesty’s grace.”

The knight who had been praised by Owen for winning today’s tournament rose from his seat with an emotional cry. Pleased by the performance of the knight he had been observing, the local lord proudly recounted the man’s background to the Emperor.

He had long intended to make the knight the husband of his beloved youngest daughter, and now that the young man had even earned the Emperor’s favor, there seemed no reason to delay the marriage further.

Unaware of her father’s intentions, the girl stole glances toward the Emperor, her cheeks flushed pink. The noble daughters attending the banquet following the archery competition could not take their eyes off the young and beautiful ruler.

‘Keep dreaming. Lord Fria is sitting right here perfectly fine. How dare they aim for him?’

Glaring at the transparent intentions of the girls, Judith viciously drove her knife into the plump roasted partridge before her.

The bird, stuffed with vegetables and glazed in honey before being roasted in the oven, was exquisite in flavor, but to Judith it served only as an outlet for irritation. How could the daughter of some provincial lord occupy the honored seat while Lord Fria was pushed aside?

Had Fria been Empress, he naturally would have sat beside the Emperor. But as nothing more than a concubine, he had no right to the seat of honor unless Owen specifically designated it.

There was no need to stage an awkward performance before provincial nobles who lacked even the influence to enter central politics. Having judged thus, Owen shook his head when the head attendant asked where the concubine should be seated.

Listening to the clear sound of the harp echoing through the banquet hall, Fria lifted his gaze toward the Emperor seated in the distance. Considering how Owen usually treated him, Fria had assumed the man would remain arrogant and cold in every situation.

Yet tonight, as though he were an entirely different person, Owen met the eyes of the noblewomen and their daughters and responded to them with smooth courtesy.

He wasn’t nearly as excessively sociable as Byron, whose conversational skills bordered on overwhelming—but at least no one would call him a complete personality disaster. Fria found himself oddly relieved.

The experienced Emperor and the uneasy young man.

Which one was the real him?

Fria wanted to meet that young man again, the one he had seen only once. He wanted to hear the hidden stories behind the Emperor. And perhaps… Fria himself wanted to confide in him as well.

“They’re just country bumpkins anyway. Why are you so bothered, Judith?”

Isabel, proud of being born in the capital, spoke while showing off her banquet dress tailored to the latest fashion.

“Bothered? Who says I’m bothered?”

Delivering the final murderous stab into the dismantled partridge, Judith snapped defensively.

She had boasted before the new maids about how passionate and fiery the relationship between His Majesty and Lord Fria was, yet for some reason the Emperor had not visited the Swallow Palace in quite some time.

Just as she had begun worrying that Owen’s interest had shifted to another concubine, news of the summer palace retreat had arrived.

Perhaps the two had grown tired of always seeing each other only at the Swallow Palace.

This retreat was an opportunity.

Love blazing anew at a vacation estate, wasn’t that one of the most common events in the romance novels Lord Fria adored?

Judith fully intended to support the Emperor, who was always drowning in work, so he could finally enjoy peaceful and intimate moments together with Fria.

****

Though this was technically a vacation, Owen—who had never rested for even a single moment since becoming heir after his father, remained so busy handling affairs that he scarcely had time to glance outside the windows of the beautiful summer palace.

The head attendant, exhausted from trying to keep pace with the young Emperor’s work schedule, earnestly begged him to rest. At the prospect of free time, the faces of the servants and maids who had suffered beneath endless duties brightened with joy.

Once permission was granted for all but the minimum required attendants to leave the palace, the palace staff eagerly departed to enjoy the mountains and lakes famous as vacation spots.

It was a peaceful afternoon.

Determined to finally use his spare time to write long-delayed letters of greeting, Owen retrieved hidden stationery from the head attendant’s wardrobe.

Even now, after the child prince had grown into a man, the place where “items harmful to the imperial heir” were concealed had not changed at all.

The letter was meant for Princess Justina, now Queen after marrying the Crown Prince of Lassen, the kingdom famed for naval power. Lassen’s military strength was not something to underestimate.

To secure a military alliance under terms favorable to the Empire, Owen would need to invite the royal couple to the capital.

The pen had only just begun moving again when…

“Ahhh! Lord Fria!”

A sharp scream rang from outside the window.

“It’s dangerous, Lord Fria!”

“Please come down, Lord Fria!”

Fria.

The concubine’s name had now become strangely familiar.

Contrary to the vice minister’s expectations, bringing Fria here had been almost pointless, as Owen had scarcely crossed paths with him since arriving.

Fria had attended the banquet on the second night, but Owen had been occupied escorting the local lord’s wife and daughter, leaving him no room to spare attention elsewhere.

“Is anyone there? Help! Lord Fria is-!”

‘Noisy.’

Whatever the issue was, Owen first decided he needed to silence the commotion. Setting down his pen, he rose from his seat.

****

“Ahhh! Lord Fria!”

Looking down at the maids shrieking beneath the tree, Fria mischievously pretended to wobble as though about to fall.

“I’m fine. Even a ten-year-old child could climb this high.”

The oak tree was barely taller than a small house. Hearing the maids’ frantic cries, Fria had gone to investigate only to discover a fledgling, still covered in downy fluff, chirping desperately on the ground.

Looking upward, he spotted a small nest near the crown of the tree. After checking the chick over, he found no visible injuries. It had likely survived the fall because it landed in thick grass.

“What should we do, Lord Fria?”

“I can’t see the mother bird. Maybe she hasn’t noticed yet.”

“Couldn’t we take it and raise it ourselves? It’s too pitiful to leave here.”

“What if it dies?”

‘What else was there to do? Return it home.’

Sliding the trembling chick into his sleeve, Fria leapt upward in a single motion, grabbing the lower branches and swinging himself up. Using the momentum from kicking off the air beneath him, he climbed swiftly and gracefully higher through the tree.

“Lord Fria! What are you doing?!”

“It’s dangerous! Please come down!”

“No, don’t move! That’s even more dangerous! Ahhh!”

The maids stomped their feet anxiously as they stared up at Fria in the tree. He climbed like a squirrel, or perhaps a monkey. What kind of concubine climbed trees?

If he fell and injured himself, they would be the ones punished. And of all times, the useful attendants had gone off to swim in the lake.

“I’ll bring a chair.”

Among them, Olga calmly proposed a solution.

“Lord Fria! We’ll bring a chair, so please stay exactly where you are!”

Stay still? Impossible. The destination was right there.

“We’re almost there. Just hold on a little longer.”

Fria spoke softly to the trembling chick hidden in his sleeve.

How old had he been back then? Eight, perhaps.

There had once been another fledgling, fallen from its nest just like this one. Fria had hidden it away and secretly fed it worms he dug up himself.

After spending an entire day searching the dirt for larvae, he had returned home filthy and suspicious-looking, only for Gir to discover the hidden bird in the attic and scold him fiercely.

“I’m going to raise it! I hate you, Gir!”

“A child who cannot even care for himself thinks he can raise another life? Did it never occur to you that its mother might be searching for it? Return it to the nest immediately.”

At the mention of the mother bird, Fria burst into tears.

He had never considered that possibility.

Weren’t mothers creatures who gave birth and then left, like his own mother had?

He wasn’t lonely, not with his nursemaid and Gir, but sometimes, when he saw kitchen maids secretly saving snacks for their children or women scolding mischievous sons while gently wiping sleep from their eyes, something deep inside him ached strangely, enough to make him feel like crying for no reason.

“But… I forgot… which tree it was…”

Ignoring Fria’s tearful pleading, Gir continued sternly.

“You are old enough now to understand how precious life is, and how heavy the responsibility of caring for another living being can be. I will not help you. Raise it yourself until it grows strong enough to return to the forest.”

Several days later, Fria wept while burying the cold body of the dead chick. Gir approached then and gently wiped away his tears.

“You understand now, don’t you? One must not carelessly take away a young creature that still has a mother simply out of momentary pity. Before its wings have fully grown, even returning it would not allow it the strength to make it home. Remember this lesson well.”

At last.

Bracing himself against the trunk with one arm and wedging his feet between the branches, Fria stretched upward toward the nest above him. The hatchlings inside opened their beaks wide and shrieked at the sudden appearance of a stranger.

Returning the chick from his sleeve into the nest, Fria whispered softly:

“Live well.”

Since he was already up here, perhaps he should enjoy the scenery a little.

Far away, the lake shimmered into view.

Lake Kali, named after the goddess from legend who supposedly became the bride of a dragon dwelling beneath its waters. Boats carrying palace attendants drifted atop the surface like fallen leaves. The late summer sunlight reflected off the water like flashing scales.

When the wind blew, the leaves overhead rustled together with a sweeping hiss.

A tune escaped Fria unconsciously.

Had the tops of trees always been this cool?

He had forgotten.

Closing his eyes, his heart drifted homeward.

Unlike the northern Empire, Alphernia enjoyed a warm climate year-round. By now, flowers and trees would be covering the land in abundance. Wild fruits grew everywhere across the hillsides, bursting with sweet and tart flavors the moment they touched the tongue.

Even the salt-tinged air felt unbearably dear to him now.

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