Chapter 50: Moonlit Promises Beneath the Emperor’s Garden

It was a bright, moonlit night.

Standing atop the roof, Fria looked down at the scenery below. From the distant banquet hall, faint music drifted through the air.

‘Would the Emperor be dancing too?’

Imagining Owen moving stiffly like a wooden puppet in time with the music, Fria burst into laughter.

He had learned to dance because of the insistence of his childhood friend, who was now married to his older brother. Meeting her once a year when she visited the castle with her parents had been one of the greatest joys of Fria’s childhood.

“I’ve thought about it, and I think you qualify.”

“Qualify for what?”

“You look a little dumb, but I’m smart enough for the both of us. And out of all the boys I know, you’re the prettiest.”

“I’m not dumb… And I’m handsome, not pretty.”

After attending his cousin’s wedding, Edelrin had suddenly become obsessed with marriage and proposed to him entirely on her own.

At that age, she’d been more interested in dressing up in beautiful clothes, being showered with attention, and receiving gifts than in the meaning of marriage itself.

Fria had spent an entire year worrying seriously about whether he would truly have to marry Edelrin someday. When he finally confided in Gir, the man had only scoffed.

“A pointless concern. Girls that age change their minds dozens of times a day.”

“But if I really marry Edelrin, where would I live? Couldn’t you come live with us too, Gir?”

Yet by the following year, Edelrin had declared with absolute confidence that babies were noisy creatures and that she intended to remain single forever.

Back then, Fria could never have imagined that years later she would become his brother’s wife while he himself would be dragged to a foreign land and turned into an imperial consort.

As distant dance music floated through the night, Fria absentmindedly stepped in rhythm with an invisible partner in the darkness, then suddenly stopped.

Somewhere nearby, a child was crying.

Was it his imagination?

‘A child crying in the imperial palace?’

Fria listened carefully. The sound came again.

Not from far away.

Close.

Following the noise, he moved cautiously through the darkness. Then he spotted light spilling from an open window. Flattening himself against the roof, he peered inside.

A small boy sat on a bed, sniffling as he turned the pages of a book.

Perhaps four or five years old.

Far too young to be left alone like this.

There was no sign of a nanny.

As Fria stretched his neck to look further inside, the child suddenly looked up from the book—and their eyes met.

Fria tensed, expecting the boy to scream.

Instead, the child’s face lit up brilliantly as he ran toward the window.

“Welcome, angel!”

‘Angel? Who? Me?’

Pointing uncertainly at himself, Fria looked bewildered.

The boy nodded enthusiastically.

“You look exactly like the angel in the book. Even your clothes are the same!”

“I knew you’d come see me. Father sent you, right?”

‘Who exactly is your father if he can summon angels?’

Deciding to play along, Fria lowered his voice solemnly.

“Little one, what is your name? This is merely for confirmation.”

“How dare you ask a royal’s name so casually? Such insolence!”

The child straightened proudly and puffed out his chest.

“I’m an angel, so I outrank royalty. Now tell me your name.”

The boy tilted his head thoughtfully before answering with complete sincerity.

“My name is Leon. The late emperor was my great-grandfather, and my father was the First Imperial Grandson. And my uncle is His Majesty the Emperor!”

When he proudly declared, “My uncle is the Emperor!” his face shone with childlike adoration.

So this is him.

The former crown grandson’s child.

The Emperor’s beloved nephew.

“Verification complete. I found the right person. May I come inside?”

“Yes! Please come in!”

Leon immediately bowed respectfully to the “angel” supposedly higher in status than royalty.

Clinging to the windowsill, Fria carefully climbed down into the room. Leon stared at him wide-eyed.

“Where are your wings hidden?”

Circling around him excitedly, the child examined him from every angle.

“I can’t show you my wings. They’re very shy. If people see them, they fall apart and scatter away. Then I wouldn’t be able to return to heaven.”

“Ah… I see.”

Leon nodded seriously, accepting the explanation without question.

He was tiny, barely reaching Fria’s waist. Thick black hair and dark grape-like eyes made it obvious he was related to Owen.

“Prince Leon, why were you crying?”

At the question, Leon lowered his head guiltily.

A thick hardcover book lay abandoned on the floor where he had thrown it earlier. Fria didn’t recognize the title, but it looked far too difficult for a child.

“Where’s your nanny? Why are you alone?”

“She’s next door. I told her to leave.”

Leon puffed his cheeks in annoyance.

“Why?”

“She’s a tattletale.”

“A tattletale? Who does she tell on you to?”

Leon avoided his gaze again.

“It’s okay. Angels are good at keeping secrets.”

The child blinked up at him uncertainly, clearly debating whether to trust him.

“…My mother.”

His mother, the former Imperial Grandson’s widow.

Naturally the nanny would report on him.

“The nanny says reading lots of books will make me a great person.”

“Did she tell you to read this book?”

“No. But I wanted to. I saw Uncle reading it before.”

“I see. Your uncle is an adult, so he reads adult books. Wouldn’t storybooks fit you better, Prince Leon?”

“Storybooks are boring. I want to grow up quickly.”

“Then why were you crying? Was it scary?”

Kneeling to meet the child’s eyes, Fria spoke gently.

“No… It’s just…”

Leon’s face crumpled.

“I don’t understand a single word in it!”

Fria understood that feeling perfectly.

It was exactly how he had felt opening Krohipatos and Lejenon’s philosophy books.

“Maybe you’ll understand them once you’re older. Or perhaps your uncle will explain them to you someday.”

That man practically treated lectures as a hobby.

“Really?”

Leon brightened instantly.

“Your nanny only tells your mother those things because she worries about you.”

“But when the nanny talks like that, Mother always looks sad.”

Fria gently stroked the child’s round cheek.

“Your mother just wants you to be happy and enjoy your childhood. Angels know these things. We can see people’s hearts.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Leon stared at him with shining eyes.

“Your father asked me to tell you something. He wants you to run around, play happily, eat well, sleep well, and grow into a strong boy. He said difficult books can wait until you’re older.”

“Ah! I see!”

Leon clenched his fists excitedly.

Even while struggling to tears, he’d wanted to imitate Owen.

The sincerity of that affection was both admirable and heartbreaking.

“Do you like your uncle that much?”

“Yes! He’s my favorite person in the whole world! As much as Mother! As much as Father!”

“I see. Then your uncle probably loves you more than anyone in the world too.”

“Really?”

Twisting shyly with happiness, Leon suddenly looked up again.

“But, Angel…”

“Yes?”

“You said angels can see hearts, right? There’s something I want to know.”

Holding both hands together seriously, he continued:

“Could you look into my uncle’s heart for me?”

That was an impossible request.

Fria himself wanted more than anyone to see inside the heart hidden behind the Emperor’s cold expression.

“What do you want to know most?”

Leon thought very hard before answering.

“Well… even if Uncle has children someday, will he still play with me? Because if a prince is born, I want to play with him too. Would that be okay?”

What an unbearably adorable concern.

Unable to withstand the child’s sweetness, Fria pulled him into a hug.

“Of course. That’s exactly what your uncle would want too.”

“I’m so glad! I hope the imperial prince is born soon.”

At those innocent words, Fria smiled awkwardly and stroked his hair.

Wasn’t he himself the very reason that wish remained unfulfilled?

Not by his own choice, but to outsiders, it surely looked as though he had bewitched the Emperor and kept him from anyone else.

“He’ll be born someday.”

Someday.

Certainly.

“But, Angel…”

Leon wriggled beneath Fria’s hand and looked up curiously again.

“What’s your name? I told you mine, so I want to know yours too.”

At least this child should remain innocent.

Fria wanted to protect this pure affection for as long as possible.

So he whispered the name of the only angel he had ever known, the name of his beloved nephew, softly into Leon’s ear.

“Matthias. My name is Matthias.”

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