Chapter 7
“Rahel, it’s already been five years since Nemeas became an empire.”
“…That’s true.”
“At first, we were their only allied nation. But in just five years, that number has grown to three.”
“…And?”
“The gap between the rich and the poor nations on the continent is widening. The Nemeas Empire will only continue to grow stronger. For a small kingdom like ours, it’s becoming harder to maintain power without the protection of a major force.”
As the king spoke, Rachel’s face gradually went pale. He tightened his grip on her hand, his affection for his daughter clearly showing.
“You might think of me as a terrible father for trying to marry off my daughter like this… but it will be good for you, too, with marriageable age approaching. The Emperor is a capable man.
He’s handsome as well, and I’ve heard that when his advisors suggested he take in concubines, he firmly stated that he would have only one Empress. Where else would you find such a groom?”
“……”
“He’s officially stopping by our kingdom under the pretense of searching for an Empress… This is a good opportunity. While he stays here and receives treatment for his condition, try to get along with him. I won’t force you if you don’t want to, so don’t take it too seriously.”
Even as he said he wouldn’t force her, the king placed a sheet of paper on the table. It was a document listing the Emperor’s preferences. As Rachel glanced over the list, she spotted “white dress” among them and let out a quiet groan.
“I was so excited to wear this dress, thinking it was just a gift from you this morning… So it was meant to lure the Emperor in after all…”
“No, Rahel—come now, can’t you try to think of it positively? As I just said, the Emperor is truly an excellent match. If I were a woman, I might have stolen him for myself. Once you meet him and have a conversation, I’m sure you’ll come to like him.”
The king went on and on, listing all of the Emperor’s virtues. But Rachel’s expression remained indifferent and unimpressed.
Had this conversation happened before she entered the audience chamber, she might have accepted her father’s suggestion enthusiastically.
He was handsome, competent, and intended to take only one wife. What woman wouldn’t like that? It even aligned perfectly with Rachel’s own ideals—freedom before marriage, but complete devotion to one’s partner afterward.
However, the current Rachel was resisting the urge to cover her ears. Impotent? Can’t have s*x?
No matter how attractive he was, an Emperor with that kind of “terminal illness” was a hard pass.
Couldn’t he just be treated for it? Rachel wasn’t naïve enough to stake her future on such a slim possibility. What if things went well and a political marriage was arranged—only for him to still be impotent? She’d be left with a dashing husband… and a widow’s fate.
Absolutely not!
Rachel shuddered. She was consumed by the single-minded need to avoid the Emperor at all costs. Even without blocking her ears, she could no longer hear a word her father was saying.
***
Inside a rattling carriage, Killian wore a weary expression as he flipped through documents. In the stillness of the cabin, only the sound of shuffling paper echoed…
Only the sound of flipping pages echoed through the carriage. Watching him in silence, the imperial physician sitting across from Killian finally spoke up with concern.
“Your Majesty, I fear you may collapse at this rate.”
To an outsider, it might have sounded like an overreaction, but the physician’s concern was valid.
As a child, Killian had been sickly and frail where he had seen the court physician far more often than he had seen his own father. With ambitions in politics, Killian had suffered greatly not just from being the third prince, but also from his weak body.
“It’s not just the matter of an heir. Your health itself could be in jeopardy.”
Even now, long after regaining his full health, the physician’s nagging never stopped. But knowing that it came from genuine care, Killian—stubborn as an ox—usually listened to what he had to say.
“I heard you the first time.”
Killian closed the document he’d been reading and leaned his head back. The muscles in his neck, stiff from the long hours of work, screamed in protest.
“Ugh…”
He let out a soft groan and stretched, rubbing his heavy eyelids as he did. Seeing this, the court physician hesitated briefly before speaking, his voice lowered to an almost inaudible whisper—this was not something meant to be overheard.
“How has the medicine been working lately?”
“…So-so.”
By “medicine,” they both knew he meant the d**g meant to stimulate his less-than-responsive member.
Discussion
0 CommentsReactions
No comments yet.