Chapter 36: The Concubine Haunting the Emperor

“That was probably because of your exceptional beauty and hair color, Gir. As you know, most people in the Empire have brown hair, and therefore brown eyes as well. Anyone here who sees a beauty with bright hair and eyes like yours would immediately think of Alphenia. They all carry the stereotype that Alphenians are blond and blue-eyed.”

“That only proves you do not know much about Alphenia. In truth, brown hair is more common there as well.”

Even those born blond usually saw their hair darken toward brown after reaching maturity.

“From an Imperial perspective, even darker shades still seem close to blond. But a pure blond like yours is rare indeed. May I touch it once?”

Ignoring the pleading look in Byron’s outstretched hand, Fria turned his attention back toward Yonnana’s portrait.

“Was there some kind of story between Yonnana and the Emperor? Someone this beautiful… well, you know. A first love, perhaps.”

At Fria’s question, Byron shook his head firmly.

“Impossible. Even if the heavens split in two, such a thing could never happen.”

“…Is that so?”

Not everything known to the public was necessarily true. Perhaps such feelings had existed only in one person’s heart, never to be confessed aloud. Seeing Fria’s expression darken, Byron rummaged through his clothes before abruptly pulling something out and presenting it to him.

A thing beloved by all men. A snack for the soul.

“What is this?”

“A pornographic illustration that’s currently popular. Care to guess who the model is?”

“Pornographic? How could you carry around something so indecent-”

It was an erotic illustration of a blond man. Whether he was dressed or undressed was difficult to say; only the most essential areas were barely concealed. His blue eyes gazed distantly into space, half-lidded, while his lips hung slightly parted.

On the next page, the blond man appeared wearing an extravagant dress and gaudy jewelry, lifting his skirt to reveal his embarrassingly spread thighs.

Another black-haired man, shown only from behind, sat between his legs while pushing a jewel-encrusted ornament into him in a highly suggestive scene. Dialogue had even been written beside the twisting blond figure.

“Please… give me something bigger, Your Majesty!”

“Something bigger.” It was obvious at a glance that they were not merely referring to the size of the jewels.

“This is outrageous! Slander! I mean, not me, but the master of the Swallow Palace does not look like some witch like this!”

Fria shouted. Byron nodded in agreement.

“Indeed, slander. His Majesty is not the sort to enjoy such cheerful games either.”

“…And how would you know that?”

Fria, who had been fuming, suddenly sharpened his attention at Byron’s words.

Surely that bastard wasn’t gossiping about his bed life all over the palace?

“If I were asked to choose the most hopeless innocent in this palace, I would answer His Majesty without hesitation.”

“He is not that innocent, is he?”

“Well, His Majesty has technically lost his virginity, but from what I can tell, he merely shed the title. He still does not seem to understand the pleasures of sensuality at all.”

“This is terribly disrespectful, so keep it secret,” Byron added with a wink, lowering his voice even though only he and Fria were present.

“That man is so rigid that his heart must move before his body does.”

“…Is that not normal?”

“It should be, but many men are not like that. I have never seen someone as devoted as His Majesty. He is astonishingly pure.”

“…Pure? Which nation’s emperor are you talking about? Surely not the Empire’s?”

That “pure” man had gone at it several times in one night, did he know that?

Watching Fria’s deeply sour expression, Byron continued with genuine pity in his eyes.

“You are terribly prejudiced. From your position, I understand why. But I believe the day will come when you see His Majesty differently.”

****

“Oi, Your Majesty. What are you thinking about?”

The tea brewed so carefully by the head attendant had long gone cold, yet Owen remained lost in thought. Byron waved a hand in front of his cousin’s face.

Only after several passes did Owen finally frown, the crease between his brows somehow still handsome enough to irritate others.

“Tsk. They say blood will tell.”

“What was that?”

Owen raised an eyebrow at Byron’s sudden muttering about bloodlines. Lately Byron had been visiting the main palace far more often than usual, and Owen had already intended to ask why.

The man had apparently arrived hours ago, so why had he yet to set foot in the office where his actual duties awaited?

“I was just thinking how much you resemble my late uncle and Aunt Marianne.”

At the mention of his parents, Owen’s gaze sharpened instantly. It was true enough that he resembled his blood relatives, but why bring it up now?

“That look right there. The sort of cold glare that could freeze spring blossoms. Whenever Aunt Marianne looked at me like that, I felt compelled to kneel and confess sins I hadn’t even committed.”

Ah. Talking about spring blossoms in the wrong season again.

He had fallen in love once more.

Without even needing to hear the rest, Owen lowered his eyes back to the documents in front of him.

Unable to get through even a tenth of what he wanted to say before being dismissed outright, Byron dramatically slumped against the edge of the desk.

“Your Majestyyy, will you not listen to the voice of your people?”

Burying his face against the table, he continued grumbling under his breath.

“There was someone who wanted to see the imperial portraits, you see. I only meant to guide him, but I ended up browsing them too. The later generations became more and more attractive. Naturally so, considering all those handsome rulers kept choosing peerless beauties for consorts. Which means Your Majesty did not become this handsome through your own merits alone. I even saw a portrait of Aunt Marianne in her youth. She was truly lovely.”

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

Cutting off Byron’s rambling, Owen demanded the point.

“I recently met someone. Unlike those adorable young ladies who know perfectly well how pretty they are and flaunt their charms, this person has absolutely no awareness of his own value. And that is precisely what makes him so captivating. Even when praised, he becomes angry instead. His speech is prickly, yet his expressions are innocent. He possesses both naïveté and dangerous little thorns. Just when I think I have him in my arms, he slips away in an instant. Even now, when I close my eyes, I remember the moment we first met, and my heart pounds. I truly thought he was a spirit born from moonlight itself. I wondered if I had been enchanted and would end up in the land of fairies, only to return a hundred years later. But he was human. What a relief that was. Then he vanished after leaving behind only his name, and I could find no trace of him anywhere. My feelings for him are like a poem, so I went to the archive to read sonnets in remembrance of him. And then, as if by miracle, an angel fell from the heavens. He had been searching for me too. We continue to meet under the guise of friendship, but I do not know what to do anymore. I have never felt this way before. Such overwhelming excitement!”

“Ah… I have fallen completely!”

Only after a very long speech did Byron finally collapse dramatically onto the sofa.

Watching him complain of thirst with utter disdain, the head attendant brought over a silver pitcher filled with sweet dew water.

It was said that every stage of Byron’s romantic adventures left behind famous lines later passed down by wandering bards, but how he managed to speak such embarrassingly flowery nonsense without stopping for breath remained a mystery.

“A bit long-winded.”

“I’m serious, Your Majesty.”

Byron lifted his head miserably.

****

Again.

Owen realized with dismay that his thoughts had once more drifted toward that person.

This was bad.

Ink dripped from the pen in his hand, staining the empty signature line black.

It was an important document proposing that Imperial apprentices be sent to the Duchy of Trubania, famed for its craftsmanship, to undergo training in exchange for labor and technological transfer.

Allowing idle thoughts to distract him during work was unlike him.

Had he been possessed by a ghost?

Or perhaps that cunning male concubine had cast some wicked spell upon him.

Ever since the day he awoke in the male concubine’s chambers, Fria had repeatedly invaded Owen’s thoughts.

The warmth of Fria’s breath against his forehead.

The marks his own lips had left upon the concubine’s skin.

The deep bruises along the insides of his thighs.

The slow, sleepy voice Fria used while clinging tightly to him.

The memory of that warm embrace surfaced so vividly that it left Owen shaken.

“…”

The vice minister of commerce, waiting below the dais for final approval, looked at the Emperor with concern as Owen rubbed tiredly at his eyes.

Though still young for the burden of ruling an empire, the Emperor had never once shown weakness since ascending the throne. The mornings and evenings had grown chilly lately, yet daytime remained sweltering enough to drench one in sweat.

Even in such weather, the young ruler remained trapped endlessly inside his office.

The vice minister could not help but pity him.

“Could you prepare it again? My apologies for the inconvenience.”

At the Emperor’s request to rewrite the ruined document, the vice minister immediately agreed. At the same time, he conceived a brilliant idea for the next state council meeting.

A retreat with his beloved concubine at a royal villa.

What better vacation gift could there possibly be for the Emperor?

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