Chapter 60

“Hmm…”

 

Freyer stroked his chin as he surveyed the office.

 

“It may not be to Your Highness’s full liking, but it was prepared in a short time. If you need anything, we will gradually add it to the office.”

 

Riulfo watched Freyer’s movements closely. Years as a diplomat had made his eye sharp; he could read the other’s thoughts well enough.

 

“I do like it—but I have a concern.”

 

“And what concerns you, Your Highness?”

 

“I’m worried the Foreign Ministry staff will be exhausted every time they come to meet me.”

 

“We will be fine, Your Highness.”

 

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

 

Freyer opened a side door connected to the office.

 

“What is this room for?”

 

“Simply an empty room.”

 

Freyer smiled broadly and pointed a finger at it.

 

“In that case, may I use this room?”

 

“Of course. May I ask what you intend to use it for?”

 

“There will be times I grow tired while working. I’d like to furnish it as a bedroom.”

 

Riulfo tilted his head, but upon hearing the answer, one corner of his mouth rose. Freyer caught the subtle shift instantly.

 

So you think diplomacy is a joke, do you?—the thought was written all over his face.

 

“Of course, Your Highness. Use it as you please. I’ll have a bed brought in right away.”

 

“No need. I’m quite particular about beds—I’ll bring one myself.”

 

Freyer ran his fingers across the desk and took a seat.

 

“The placement, the interior—everything pleases me.”

 

“I’m relieved it suits Your Highness.”

 

He had executed his plan: ensuring the Foreign Ministry would leave him alone. Then word would reach the Crown Prince that Freyer wasn’t taking any action—and it would put him at ease.

 

“Since this is Your Highness’s first day in the Foreign Ministry, I’ll give you a brief explanation of our current situa—”

 

“Unfortunately, I won’t be able to hear that report today.”

 

Freyer glanced at the clock on his desk and stood.

 

“It’s already lunchtime. I’m heading out to eat.”

 

“…Pardon?”

 

Riulfo, who had maintained perfect composure until now, looked between Freyer and the clock in confusion. It wasn’t even close to noon.

 

“Right now, Your Highness?”

 

“My favorite restaurant is quite far from the palace. I need to leave now.”

 

“Second Prince, for future work you really should listen to—”

 

“Must I?”

 

Freyer made it obvious he wasn’t listening.

 

“You need to understand the overall diplomatic situation if you’re going to handle international relations—”

 

“Then summarize it and place it all in a report. I’ll check it tomorrow. Or the day after.”

 

“…Why tomorrow or the day after, Your Highness?”

 

“After lunch, I’m going out to buy a comfortable bed.”

 

Riulfo’s pupils trembled. Freyer straightened his clothes and smiled brightly.

 

“Carry on as you always have. I doubt my absence will change anything.”

 

“…Your Highness, may I ask something?”

 

“Go on.”

 

“I heard you claimed to have a method to resolve relations with the Kingdom of Oneren. May I hear what that method is now?”

 

“So that’s what you wanted to know.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Freyer smiled, eyes bending.

 

“It was a lie.”

 

“L–Lie?”

 

“I’ve never even visited Oneren. How could I possibly have a way to communicate with them?”

 

Riulfo’s eyes widened.

 

“Why would you lie about that…?”

 

“I simply wanted to sit in this chair. Just once.”

 

Riulfo’s expression froze with disbelief.

 

Freyer stepped beside him.

 

“I’m going to lunch. Care to join me?”

 

“…No, Your Highness.”

 

Freyer clapped a hand lightly on Riulfo’s shoulder, smiling like sunlight.

 

“Then I look forward to working with you! Special Envoy Riulfo.”

 

His method had worked beautifully. Now he needed the imperial faction to hear this and let their guard down.

 

 

***

 

 

“Crown Prince!”

 

“What brings Your Majesty here without warning?”

 

Ivailo glanced at the Empress, then returned to the documents in his hand.

 

Bang—

 

The Empress slammed the desk, voice rising.

 

“The Crown Prince should be coming to me to explain this situation! What on earth happened?”

 

“…”

 

“Answer me! Didn’t you say you had a good idea? Then explain how this disaster happened!”

 

She was referring to Freyer winning the Hunting Festival and gaining authority over the Foreign Ministry. When no answer came, she called him again.

 

“Crown Prince! Your mother is calling you!”

 

“The Crown Prince you insist on calling is standing right here, Mother. Please stop.”

 

Her brows shot up at his curt tone.

 

“What did you just say to me?”

 

“That you should stop.”

 

“And what have you done right, to look at your mother with eyes like that?”

 

“Then tell me clearly, Your Majesty. What exactly have I done wrong?”

 

Ivailo locked eyes with her, unblinking.

 

“You want to question me about my actions? I should be the one questioning you.”

 

“Ivailo…”

 

“You finally said my name. I thought you’d forgotten it.”

 

He scoffed.

 

“Tell me, precisely. What did I do wrong? You said you disliked that bastard Freyer, so I used every means to eliminate him.”

 

He scattered the papers he’d been holding.

 

“And what did you do in the meantime? You didn’t even try to prevent the territorial war. Did you know the turmoil I’ve been going through?”

 

“I’ve always thought of you.”

 

Ivailo didn’t even blink.

 

“If you thought of me, you should have killed Freyer long ago.”

 

“…”

 

“Does it make you happy, seeing your son like this?”

 

“…Happy? Did you just say happy, Ivailo?”

 

“Yes. I’m asking if you’re happy while your son is on the verge of losing his place.”

 

“My son truly doesn’t understand a mother’s heart.”

 

Her expression sank like lead.

 

“I did all of this for you. To make you emperor.”

 

“And for what purpose must I become emperor?”

 

“For you, of course.”

 

“Don’t pretend it’s for me. Everyone knows. You’re afraid you’ll lose your position if Freyer becomes Crown Prince.”

 

“…”

 

“You want the Emperor’s attention. Isn’t it time you stopped?”

 

The Empress pressed her lips together.

 

“And why bring up the Emperor?”

 

“I know you were jealous of Felicia. I know you killed her because you envied her and hated how pitiful you felt, never being fully loved by His Majesty.”

 

“…”

 

“I know you want to make me emperor so your existence will be validated.”

 

Her face collapsed into despair.

 

“If you truly want to make me emperor, then stay quiet.”

 

Ivailo rose and approached her.

 

“I want the throne, Mother. But not as a puppet to fill your deficiencies. I want to rule my people—have them obey me.”

 

“…”

 

“Even if Freyer gains control of the Foreign Ministry, it won’t matter. I ran that department. Those loyal to me are still there. Freyer won’t be able to move.”

 

“But—”

 

“Are you worried he’ll succeed at negotiations with the Oneren Kingdom?”

 

Ivailo smirked.

 

“That’s absurd. Those people live in their own world. If words worked on them, our diplomats wouldn’t have failed all these years.”

 

“Is that so… Ivailo.”

 

The Empress, wilted until now, slowly lifted her eyes.

 

“…I’ll trust your judgment. But I ask one thing.”

 

He didn’t feel good about pushing her so hard. He nodded.

 

“Say it.”

 

“Take Nazlee Idarand as your crown princess.”

 

“Mother!”

 

“The arrangements are already made. A mother also needs insurance. It’s my final request.”

 

Final request.

 

Ivailo froze. If he accepted, she might finally stop interfering. But there was a reason he could not take Nazlee Idarand.

 

“I already have someone in mind.”

 

“Someone?”

 

“Lilithia Baimery will be the crown princess.”

 

“Lilithia Baimery…?”

 

The Empress frowned, unfamiliar with the name.

 

“She has a very interesting ability. If I take her, ruling the empire becomes much easier.”

 

He still had to confirm whether her power worked on others—but if it did, mages, priests, knights… all could fall under his control.

 

“I understand, Ivailo. But since I’ve already arranged a place for you and Nazlee Idarand to meet, simply show your face.”

 

“…Since you put it that way, I’ll appear briefly.”

 

He couldn’t reject her anymore.

 

“Thank you, Ivailo.”