MHC 12

Chapter 12

Kuhn’s letter was concise.

It began with his recollection of his first meeting with Chloe and then moved on to how he had been living after the war. It detailed aspects of his background that he hadn’t had a chance to explain during their initial conversation.

However, the letter contained no personal information about him. Chloe, secretly hoping for some insight into his identity, felt disappointed. Since her own identity had long been revealed, why was he so intent on keeping his a secret? Usually, someone who conceals themselves like that falls into one of three categories: a villain, someone arrogantly self-important, or both.

Judging by the expense of sending the letter, he was probably a very self-important person. The name “Kuhn” made Chloe think of only one individual: the current emperor of the empire.

But she dismissed the thought that her friend could be the emperor. After all, the emperor wouldn’t wander around town in ragged clothes, nor would he retrieve a lost wallet for someone. Moreover, Kuhn was very different from the emperor—whether from what she had witnessed or heard through rumors, the emperor was cold and cruel.

“He’ll probably reveal his identity once we become closer.”

Putting her disappointment aside, Chloe continued reading the letter, reaching the last page.

“You must be wondering when we’ll meet. I wonder too. It probably won’t take long. I can say with confidence that we will meet soon, Chloe. Until then, I wish you well.”

Even though it was just printed words on paper, short as it was, it was more captivating than any book she had ever read.

“I would be truly honored if you wrote me a reply, Chloe.”

At the very bottom of the page, a postscript was written. The handwriting, though not completely elegant, carried a playful touch. Chloe decided that the opening of her reply would definitely be: “Beginning this reply with honor.”

The letter also included instructions on how to send her response.

“Simply leave your reply where you found this letter. There’s no set time to send it, so please write when convenient.”

Rather than sending it herself, Chloe’s letter would be collected directly by Kuhn. He was willing to go through such a cumbersome process just to keep his address hidden. At this point, Chloe even found herself curious about his identity, which she hadn’t been very concerned with before.

“…A wanted criminal?”

He had plenty of money but couldn’t reveal his identity—someone came to mind. Chloe decided to cautiously ask about his identity in her reply.

The next morning, Chloe sat at her desk as soon as she woke up. If there was no set time to send the reply, she could do it immediately. She wanted to send it as soon as possible to receive his next reply.

Having only ever written businesslike letters before, this playful correspondence with a friend felt unusual to Chloe. She shared bits of her own story and her impressions of Kuhn’s story. Before she knew it, her letter had grown rather long. Embarrassed by her own excitement, she secretly removed a few sheets to save for the next letter.

After finishing the letter, she went downstairs for breakfast. The meal was far inferior to yesterday’s, yet she felt more satisfied than ever. Curious about whether her letter had been collected, she returned to her room immediately after eating.

“It’s gone!”

Following Kuhn’s instructions, she had left the letter on the side table—and now it had completely disappeared. Could Jane have been involved in this letter game? Who had taken the letter? Chloe’s curiosity flared but she decided to leave it be. Like magic, part of the thrill was not uncovering all the secrets.

“Why, I see you reading a letter addressed to me?”

Dylan entered the ruler’s office, astonished. The man seated calmly in the chair, holding a letter, seemed a stark contrast to the ruler who usually dismissed Dylan’s stack of correspondence without reading.

“I took an interest,” Kuhn replied.

Dylan’s heart raced. He was overjoyed and proud—finally, the ruler was paying attention to diplomatic matters! He had refrained from the scolding he had planned along the way, feeling this was the third-best decision of his life. Interrupting Kuhn, who was absorbed in reading, could have been dangerous.

“To my beloved friend…”

Kuhn began reading the letter from the top, which addressed him as “beloved friend.” The strokes of the letters were broken in places, evidence of Chloe’s hesitation while writing—a detail only Kuhn could notice. Below, Chloe shared her reply and began a new story of her own. At the end, she subtly asked for Kuhn’s information. Did she really expect him to answer? She was both innocent and reckless.

“Then shall I expect a reply? No, I’ll wait.”

The letter began playfully but ended with a hint of nervousness. The woman who had once resisted him now welcomed their relationship. The sudden reversal of dynamics pleased Kuhn, but only briefly. His emotions flared.

‘I mustn’t let her grow attached so easily.’

Having experienced many relationships, she was unexpectedly sensitive to attachment. Would she speak so cutely to others as well? This trivial worry sparked Kuhn’s irritation.

“Dylan.”

The negative feeling, which he thought would vanish quickly, lingered. He called his devoted aide.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Dylan responded, slightly nervous at the solemn tone.

“Why does someone who once kept me at a distance now show affection?”

“Pardon?”

“Once she didn’t welcome me, and now she seeks me.”

Dylan was confused. Was this a question about the letter? It didn’t seem so.

“…I suppose she’s learned to trust people.”

He had to answer, so he gave a standard response. Kuhn’s expression twisted slightly—Dylan’s answer wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear. Quickly, Dylan corrected himself.

“…To be precise, perhaps not at first, but now she has no choice but to trust Your Majesty. Knowing your true merit, it would be a loss for her not to keep you—not just materially, but emotionally as well.”

Even in a short time, Dylan gave a composed answer. Kuhn nodded, satisfied. He clearly enjoyed hearing that someone was drawn to him for his competence.

“Why worry about such things? No matter the truth or her thoughts, events will unfold as you wish.” Dylan added, partly to appease him, partly sincerely.

No matter the obstacles, Kuhn always achieved what he desired. Anything difficult only required more strategy. He had everything: capability, position, influence. What could he not accomplish?

‘Ah, right. The war ended in failure.’

Dylan suddenly remembered the war against the Kingdom of Valorant, which had ended so inconsequentially that even Kuhn’s mistake seemed trivial.

“…But Your Majesty, may I ask you just one thing? Why did you give up on the Kingdom of Valorant?”

At that moment, Kuhn’s fingers paused mid-table, eyes fixed on Dylan. Cold red eyes met his, and Dylan broke into a cold sweat. Even Dylan, who had been by his side for years, wouldn’t survive such a question lightly.

“I never gave up,” Kuhn said calmly. The unexpected gentleness frightened Dylan even more.

“However, the target has simply changed.”

“…What do you mean?”

“I’ve never failed to grasp what I desire. No matter how long it takes, the object of my aim will eventually be mine. This time is no different, Dylan.”

His voice was gentle, yet the presence it carried was coercive. Dylan, at a loss, did not dare ask further.

Finally, Kuhn spoke:

“Dylan.”

Dylan, standing frozen, obeyed immediately.

“…Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Parchment.”

Kuhn’s command to fetch parchment puzzled Dylan. Why parchment, when Kuhn usually scribbled replies on any paper? Who had sent a letter so significant that it required such care?