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Join the ServerThis morning, while the chamberlain was helping the emperor dress, Owen spoke as if mentioning something trivial.
“He said he wanted to see my portraits, so bring him a few.”
“You mean Lord Fria?”
“He said he wanted to see paintings from my childhood.”
Requests from nobles who wished to possess the emperor’s likeness were common enough that Owen thought little of his male consort’s request. The chamberlain, however, reacted very differently.
“His Majesty’s childhood portraits?”
“Yes. He woke up in the middle of the night and was looking at one.”
“While Your Majesty was sleeping right beside him?”
The emperor had been lying only an arm’s length away, yet Fria had still wanted to gaze at his portrait. To the chamberlain, there could be only one explanation: Even when I see you, I still long to see you. It was a confession of profound affection.
Wanting to see portraits from the emperor’s childhood only made it seem even more sincere.
“Sometimes I wake because I can feel someone staring at me. Whenever that happens, he’s always sighing. I left him alone since he doesn’t seem to have the nerve to assassinate me.”
Even if Fria had tried a surprise attack in his current condition, Owen was confident he could subdue him instantly.
“A-assassination, Your Majesty? I’m certain Lord Fria had no such intention.”
“If not that, then what? Is he trying to curse me?”
Watching the emperor give a faint smirk, the chamberlain felt as though he had swallowed dry black bread without water.
“Perhaps it means, ‘Even when I can see you, I still miss you. I wish you understood how desperately I long for you.’ Would that not explain why he rises in the middle of the night to stare absentmindedly at your portrait?”
“He wasn’t absentminded.”
Though he had looked rather like someone who had just seen a ghost.
“Did Lord Fria say anything else?”
“He said he wanted to know everything about my childhood that he’d never seen.”
“Your Majesty… you truly are astonishingly dense. Forgive my insolence.”
Even as he dropped to his knees, the chamberlain thumped his chest in frustration. If only young Master Byron, unrivaled in matters of romance, had been present, he could surely have given the innocent emperor exactly the advice he needed.
Byron was under house arrest and, according to rumor, had somehow acquired even more lovers, but today the chamberlain found himself missing the incorrigible rogue more than ever.
‘A mere handful of paintings will never satisfy Lord Fria’s yearning.’
Resolving to spare no effort, the chamberlain summoned the attendants.
****
“I deeply regret that I cannot give these historical paintings to you, Lord Fria, as they are forbidden from leaving the archives. Since I hold the keys to the vault, however, you need only ask whenever you wish to see them. And from now on, whenever a new portrait is commissioned, I shall have an extra copy made especially for you.”
“No!”
Horrified, Fria waved both hands frantically.
“N-no! We mustn’t waste the imperial treasury like that! Besides, the more copies there are, the less valuable the work becomes. A masterpiece should be appreciated in its original form… yes, the original is best.”
“Ah, such profound wisdom. I had failed to consider that. Then I shall follow your recommendation. Simply let me know whenever you wish to view them.”
The chamberlain beamed, delighted that someone now wished to share in the treasured history of the emperor he had served so faithfully.
“May I ask… do you have any children?”
Unable to comprehend the old man’s boundless devotion to the emperor, Fria voiced the question that had occurred to him.
“I do not. Family would only distract me from my duties. My younger brother inherited the title, so I have dedicated the rest of my life solely to serving His Majesty.”
Though he owned a grand estate outside the capital, the chamberlain scarcely left the palace grounds. His loyalty never wavered.
It reminded Fria that no ordinary person could become Grand Chamberlain, the emperor’s closest attendant. Judith, one of Fria’s own fiercest supporters, was devoted beyond measure, but beside the chamberlain’s decades of service and unwavering commitment, she would still seem a novice.
Old enough to have grandchildren, he had deliberately remained unmarried and instead poured all his affection into the imperial princes. The death of the First Prince, Arthur, had devastated him.
Every time he looked upon the surviving Second Prince, Owen, he could barely suppress his sorrow.
After Owen ascended the throne, he accepted nine consorts yet showed interest in none of them, leading the chamberlain to secretly worry that something might be wrong with the emperor’s health.
Never had he imagined the emperor might one day favor another man, but now he was simply grateful that someone remained by Owen’s side. In time, perhaps another beloved would appear, and perhaps the long-awaited imperial heir would finally be born.
“If you have any questions about His Majesty, ask me anything. Whatever I know, I shall tell you without reservation. And if I do not know the answer, I will discover it for you.”
Having successfully finished explaining even the final painting, the chamberlain smiled with immense satisfaction.
****
‘I’ve learned more than enough about the emperor for one lifetime.’
After accidentally saying the wrong thing and enduring hours of the chamberlain’s endless enthusiasm, Fria collapsed onto a cushioned chaise lounge. His head spun, and he thought he might even be running a slight fever.
He had exceeded his daily limit for emperor-related information. Though he was not seriously ill, he took some medicine he had hidden in a drawer as a precaution.
Tea time approached, but Fria drifted into sleep on the soft couch.
“What’s wrong with him?”
Looking down at the sleeping man, who tossed and turned as if trapped in a nightmare, Owen questioned the chamberlain. He had arrived at the appointed hour to find his male consort fast asleep in the sitting room.
There was no need to wake him, so Owen quietly observed him, just as Fria had secretly watched him the previous night.
“He must be exhausted.”
“From merely looking at a few paintings?”
“Great joy or excitement can bring on a fever. Your Majesty experienced the same thing often when you were a prince.”
“That doesn’t make my consort a child.”
Fria’s slender frame made him look younger than his age, but he was nevertheless a fully grown man of twenty-four.
“It is likely because he has such an innocent heart. Shall I summon the royal physician?”
Owen gave no reply, but the perceptive chamberlain sent for one anyway. The physician, finally seeing the emperor’s rumored male favorite in person, carefully examined the sleeping Fria.
“Your Majesty, it appears the consort has always possessed a frail constitution. His body temperature is unusually low, and he is perspiring despite the chill. He may have overexerted himself recently or be suffering from deep emotional distress.”
The chamberlain suddenly cried out.
“Lovesickness! Could Lord Fria be suffering from lovesickness?”
The physician tilted his head.
“Has he had trouble sleeping at night? Has his appetite diminished?”
“He sleeps well.”
Whenever Owen saw him, Fria seemed to be asleep more often than not.
“He does eat very little. Ah! And didn’t Your Majesty mention that he often wakes during the night and sighs?”
Recalling Owen’s words, the chamberlain’s concern deepened.
“I cannot be certain, but if his illness stems from the heart, then the source itself must be addressed.”
The physician glanced cautiously at Owen before continuing. Rumor had it this male consort enjoyed the emperor’s exclusive favor, yet now he supposedly suffered from lovesickness. He truly was as greedy as the gossip claimed.
“For now, he should rest as much as possible. Encourage him to eat more and exercise enough to raise his body temperature. Since he runs cold, he must be kept warm. Before sleeping, it would also help if he soaked in water infused with hollyhock, fennel, wild parsley, licorice, and mint.”
He spent nearly all day reading and doing nothing else, Owen thought. How could anyone prescribe more rest? Frowning slightly, he removed his own outer robe and draped it over the sleeping Fria.
****
It was unbearably hot.
Though summer had already passed, Fria awoke from a light sleep drenched in sweat. He threw off the heavy fur blanket smothering him, relieved for only a moment before someone promptly covered him with it again.
Thinking he should at least loosen his clothes, Fria reached for the buttons of his tunic, only for another hand to seize his wrist.
“You’re troublesome. Throw the blanket off one more time, and I’ll tie you down.”
Threatened the instant he opened his eyes.
His cheeks flushed with fever, Fria blinked at the man issuing the warning. He had already spent the entire night dreaming about the emperor, and now the first face he saw upon waking was Owen’s.
“…Water.”
“What?”
“I’d like some water.”
His throat was painfully dry. He had sweated so much in his sleep that he felt utterly dehydrated. Hearing his hoarse request, Owen handed him the glass waiting on the bedside table.
The water tasted wonderfully sweet.
One glass wasn’t enough.
Watching Fria drain it immediately, Owen picked up the ceramic pitcher and poured him another.
Only after finishing both did Fria begin to feel clearheaded again. He remembered dozing off on the chaise in the sitting room, yet he had awakened in the bed tucked inside the attic chamber instead.
No wonder it felt so unbearably hot.
The fireplace had been stoked until the room resembled midsummer. Flames roared behind the grate, radiating enough heat to make the chamber feel like it was under a blazing summer sun.
“Aren’t you hot, Your Majesty?”
Owen answered without emotion.
“I am.”
“Then why is the fire…”
Something dropped suddenly into Fria’s palm, cutting off his words.
It was an oval locket of gilded bronze, its rim alternating between red and blue coral decorations. The imperial crest was inlaid with agate, jade, emerald, and lapis lazuli, making it obvious at a glance that it was extravagantly valuable.
A golden chain attached to the ring at its top allowed it to be worn around the neck.
Twisting the clasp open, Fria found a mirror inside the lid.
Beneath it was an enamel miniature portrait of the emperor.
“What is this?”
He wasn’t asking what the object was. He knew perfectly well it was a locket.
He was asking why.
Owen replied in the same indifferent tone as always.
“You said you wanted my portrait. Have you already decided you don’t need it anymore?”
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