EOSL CH 22

Chapter 22

“People need to hit rock bottom at least once…”

I stared blankly at the ceiling and muttered.

“That way, the only direction left afterward is up.”

It was something my father, Duke Wildenbiston, had told me while patting my shoulder when I locked myself in my room after being rejected.

Personally, I think it’s a great quote. It actually helped me pull myself together.

“The problem is… how deep is my rock bottom, exactly?”

And whether I can even climb back up.

I sniffed loudly.

I was in the Imperial Palace.

More precisely, in a room inside the inner palace. I think it was near the Mirror Room on the third floor.

This area was close to the Emperor’s private quarters, so no matter how much I roamed the palace over the past twelve years, I had never been able to enter here.

After being politely detained by His Majesty’s knights earlier, I had been escorted here and left in this room the whole time.

There was a soft bed. Many books I liked.

Even the limited-edition doll collection by the capital’s famous craftsman Francis—the one I used to adore until I was sixteen.

I hadn’t been able to get that set back then… I had thrown all my dolls away in an attempt to act mature, but now that I saw them again, I missed them terribly. I almost wanted to play with them.

But I wasn’t so out of my mind that I would touch those things right now. I knew my situation very well.

As of this moment, I was—

“A criminal about to be executed for insulting the Emperor.”

…Wasn’t I?

Saying it out loud made my heart ache even more.

Anyway, given my crime, this was hardly the time to be distracted by cozy hobbies.

If anything, I should be lying flat on the bare floor like a proper sinner, reflecting on my actions.

Like I am now.

Ah, I, Aira, am in crisis.

Lying spread out on the floor, I blinked and looked back up at the ceiling paintings.

The ceiling was decorated with golden vines and a beautiful mural summarizing the myths of the Zahard Empire.

That’s… the eagle… that’s… the white serpent… those are the beasts summoned by the serpent… those are the mages who defeated them… that’s magical power…

“So pretty…”

I sniffed again.

Though honestly, no matter how beautiful it was, I couldn’t truly take it in.

No… I should look carefully. I sighed.

“Burn it into my memory properly… It might be one of the last things I see before I die.”

Right. That makes sense. At nineteen, committing the grave crime of speaking rudely and casually to the Emperor of this nation—about to disappear like dew at the execution grounds—it seems appropriate to take in at least one more sight.

I tried to study the ceiling slowly.

Yes, I’ve seen everything roughly. It’s quite luxurious to sightsee the palace before dying. If I die like this, I can—

No. One thing remains.

A will.

I pushed myself up from the floor.

“Ah… I need to write a will…”

Yes. I should leave one. My family must be shocked. Though if I leave one, it might get leaked to something like the Pacific Times with a headline like
“Shocking Acquisition! The Final Letter of Aira Wildenbiston, the Girl Who Spoke Rudely to the Emperor!”

I walked over to the tea table, where cookies and cake were neatly arranged.

Ah. I noticed earlier—there really was paper and a pen placed there.

Can I use this?

Well, since they gave me paper and a pen, they must allow a will.

“They’ll let me write one.”

I nodded and sat down.

The reason I believed I would be allowed to write a will was simple.

Since being confined to this room, I have been treated rather kindly and humanely.

Let’s be honest.

I know what I did.

I burst into the morning council and hurled rude words at His Majesty.

I don’t even remember exactly what I said. But I spoke disrespectfully to the highest authority in this country.

That’s a serious crime.

Even if I’m a noble, a serious criminal should be locked in a bare cell, stripped of everything, and left waiting for judgment.

But during my escort here, the knights were nothing but polite.

After I was placed in this room, palace maids even exchanged knowing glances with me and began dressing me up.

They washed the dirt, sweat, and tears off my face and body. They dressed me in beautiful clothes. They even put what felt like valuable jewelry on me.

And the dress I was wearing now—

It was a white, low-bustle gown with delicate lace made of fine silk covering my shoulders.

It was truly beautiful. I’ve never considered myself from a family that skimps on clothing expenses, but I had never seen lace this light and elegant—like butterfly wings.

How much extra would something like this cost?

“…Is this a burial gown?”

I’ve heard that prisoners are allowed one last meal before execution. Is this the equivalent of that? Do they normally treat someone awaiting immediate execution this well?

Just as I held the pen and thought—

A soft laugh came from the doorway.

“As if.”

“—!”

I turned my head instantly.

It was the Emperor.

He was leaning against the doorway with his coat draped over his shoulders, arms crossed.

His face was as handsome as ever. Honestly, I think if His Majesty just showed his face, the peace of this country would be guaranteed.

But when had he been standing there? He appeared out of nowhere again. Just like when we met in the Great Forest.

“Earlier you were swearing at me, and now you don’t even greet me properly.”

“…When did I swear? The daughter of House Wildenbiston greets Your Majesty.”

Though indignant, I rose from my seat and performed a proper curtsy, bending one leg behind me.

It was a very natural greeting. As if I had intended to do it all along.

Whether he believed that was another matter.

“For someone who only just remembered to greet me, that was quite natural. That’s enough. Sit comfortably again.”

…So it didn’t work.

I sat back down awkwardly.

He walked over and sat in the chair opposite me.

“You didn’t touch these. They were things you liked.”

“The Francis collection? Yes… Did I ever mention that?”

“Mm.”

Instead of answering, Rubellus took the writing board from my hands with a displeased look.

“‘Will’?”

He must have seen the two characters I wrote.

A crease formed between his brows.

“Why are you writing a will?”

“I committed a crime worthy of death… I called you ‘you’ and spoke casually. I was protesting with my life on the line. I just hope my family doesn’t suffer because of me.”

He stared at me.

The amusement faded from his eyes. They became serious.

Then suddenly, he tore the will from the board and ripped it to shreds.

“If you committed a capital crime, you should ask for forgiveness. Why are you writing a will?”

“I was planning to seek forgiveness through death.”

“…”

His expression darkened.

…Wait. Does that mean I won’t be forgiven even if I die?

“Your Majesty… I can’t even write a will? Am I going straight to the underground prison?”

Silence.

My anxiety grew.

With my hands folded neatly in front of me, I began asking rapidly.

“Will my entire family be punished? Usually in stories, isn’t the culprit expelled from the family? Just strip me of my noble status and spare my family. I’m the only one who committed the crime. What did they do wrong? Then I’d just be Aira, right?”

His eyebrow twitched.

Ignoring my rambling, he asked slowly,

“Where did you learn that? You seem very interested in our judicial system.”

“Not really. I read it in a book. It was a famous romance novel called How to Become the Radiant Empress. In it, the heroine is bullied terribly by a vicious emperor.”

At that moment, his eyes flashed.

He inhaled slowly, as if steadying himself, and asked carefully,

“…Isn’t the Emperor the male lead?”

“No. The heroine ends up with the emperor’s half-brother. The Emperor is awful. He mistreats them both and rules tyrannically, then suddenly dies of high blood pressure. After that, the half-brother inherits the throne. That’s how she becomes Empress. Actually, I think I saw the book among these earlier…”

I rummaged through the stack of books and handed it to him.

It was one of the romance novels I used to adore.

Back then, I read it thinking it was essential preparation to become Empress—but like most romance novels, it didn’t help my relationship with His Majesty at all.

Honestly, the part where the emperor dies of illness felt unrealistic. It seemed more like it should have led to a rebellion. They probably changed it to avoid offending the Imperial Family.

“…Give it here.”

“You’re going to read it?”

“No. I’m going to ban its publication.”

“What?”

I must have misheard.

He didn’t answer, just stared at the book and muttered under his breath.

Something like, “She said she liked it, so I brought it,” and “I thought she’d end up with the Emperor.”

I couldn’t catch it clearly.

And then…

Silence fell between us.