There was nothing better than transcribing to clear a complicated mind and calm one’s heart.

But today, Ilarid wanted to forget with something else. She ordered her maids to bring two guns stored in the imperial armory.

Soon, a heavy gun was placed in Ilarid’s hand. The cold feeling of metal, unfamiliar at first after so long, quickly became familiar again.

Of course, there wasn’t a single bullet loaded. To remove ammunition from the armory required the Emperor’s final approval. He would never give Ilarid bullets.

A handgun and a long rifle. They had been mixed in with her dowry when she entered the palace. What kind of mother would send guns as part of her daughter’s dowry? But Keira Rowen Melpiram was more than capable of doing just that.

How nice it would have been if she could practice shooting when feeling stifled. But Ilarid had never been able to attend the hunting parties hosted by the imperial family.

This was due to the Empress Dowager’s insistence that the sight of the Empress holding a gun would shock everyone and damage the imperial family’s dignity.

In the end, she just sat idly under a spread awning during hunting parties.

After the tragedy, she stopped attending altogether. Though Cledius consistently sent invitations, she made excuses about poor health and stayed in the Empress’s palace.

When Cledius took the pro-emperor nobles on a hunting trip for several days, only then would Ilarid take out her guns and go to the shooting range to pull the trigger.

Come to think of it, shooting was easier for calming the mind than transcribing. You just had to shoot at the designated target. What a simple yet difficult task.

But if she was seen practicing shooting too often, it could raise unnecessary suspicion. Until things began, she had to act the part of the docile Empress. It was the worst of ordeals.

The targets were sometimes thrown objects, sometimes fixed bullseyes. And sometimes, they became an imaginary Cledius.

“Your Majesty the Empress, shall I prepare the shooting range?”

“No. Today I’ll just clean them and save the shooting for next time.”

Cleaning two guns and putting them away was as easy as eating cold porridge.

Ilarid closed the wooden box containing the guns with a slightly disappointed look. The crisp sound of it closing was clear, but her heart felt as stifled as the tightly shut box.

By now, Lebel should have arrived in Rosen. Even if he came up with a separate plan while carrying out Cledius’s orders, it would still take about a week.

Would he really carry out Cledius’s orders exactly as given?

Behead the ringleader. This was tantamount to saying cut off the head of the Duke of Le Rosen and hang it on the front gate of the Duke’s mansion.

And the merchant guild that provided funds and weapons to the resistance. Tamiel to interrogate them. How could she stop Tamiel? Given the chance, she wanted to assassinate him without a trace right away.

But Tamiel had even hired personal bodyguards. He was the type of person who knew to value his own life while carelessly handling others’ bodies and lives.

It was one difficulty after another. Though the situation felt suffocating, if Lebel returned safely, she might be able to catch her breath for a moment.

Ilarid planned to propose the “Shadow” to him when he returned.

She needed to prepare an excuse to bring him in as a “Shadow” before he returned. How should she phrase it so he would accept her proposal naturally without being flustered?

As if to cut off her swirling thoughts, there was a sound at the door.

“Your Majesty the Empress, His Majesty the Emperor has arrived.”

Ilarid’s fingers on the wooden box containing the guns crumpled suddenly. What fault would he find this time? He would surely sneer, asking where the virtuous Empress had gone after seeing her with Lebel.

Ilarid steeled herself and ordered the maid to open the door.

“Good morning, Empress.”

Cledius was dressed more casually than usual, as if ready to go hunting in the forest near the palace. Had he taken a personal day off? Ilarid spoke in a deliberately calm voice.

“I saw in this morning’s newspaper that resistance forces have appeared in Rosen.”

“Not resistance forces, but rebels.”

Cledius immediately corrected Ilarid’s words. A revolution if successful, a rebellion if failed. Since their resistance was sure to fail, Cledius’s tone was full of confidence.

“So I dispatched mercenaries urgently. That’s what they exist for, after all.”

He glanced askance at the two wooden boxes in front of Ilarid. As expected. A short laugh escaped Cledius’s lips.

He had come after hearing that the Empress had taken out two guns from the imperial armory. Empty guns without bullets. He had been curious what she would do with them, but it seemed she had just cleaned and put them away.

Cledius sensed an unquenched thirst in Ilarid’s eyes.

Palace life where she couldn’t even ride horses properly, let alone hold guns or any metal objects without drawing suspicious glances. Her parched state, which he had failed to notice before, suddenly struck him anew.

“After going to the trouble of cleaning them, it seems a shame for the Empress to just put them back in the armory…”

Two hands rested on top of the wooden boxes. Ilarid immediately withdrew her hand. The unexpectedly gentle tone in his voice made her shudder.

He slowly leaned his waist towards where Ilarid was standing. Cledius whispered quietly into her ear.

“Let’s go shooting together.”

She thought her body would be stiff from lack of practice, but that was a misconception.

Nine out of ten shots hit the mark. When she missed one of the flying targets, Ilarid bit her lip in genuine disappointment.

It was partly due to a lapse in concentration, but also because of the uncomfortable clothes. Why did she have to wear clothes with a corset even for shooting practice?

Ilarid put her hand on her waist, taking deep breaths she had been holding back. The recoil of the gun, felt after so long, was both welcome and difficult to endure. She might even have bruises on her shoulder tomorrow.

Cledius watched the Empress with an intrigued gaze. The notion of shooting together had long since disappeared. He stared at Ilarid as if entranced, having entrusted his rifle to an attendant.

When had she regained such vitality? That sparkle was not something that could be obtained overnight. It must have filled up slowly without her realizing, until it overflowed.

‘Is it because of that man?’

His crossed arms tensed. The creases in his crumpled clothes cast even deeper shadows.

Lebel had gradually changed Ilarid without Cledius noticing. That fact irritated Cledius.

He had thought she would become a doll that could do nothing, slowly crumbling with only hatred and resentment remaining.

He had assumed she would simply shine as his Empress alone, his trophy.

But she was mocking Cledius’s expectations, standing firmly and pulling the trigger.

The last target streaked by rapidly. Ilarid didn’t miss the opportunity. Her clear green gaze moved with the target, and immediately the heavy report of the gun was felt.

The target shattered and fell onto the grass. Even the attendants helping with the shooting practice clicked their tongues in admiration. If there were a shooting competition in the palace, the Empress would surely sweep the top ranks.

“Empress.”

Cledius, who had been quietly observing Ilarid, slowly opened his mouth. Still caught up in the lingering impression of the last shot, Ilarid kept her gaze fixed on the grass where the target had fallen.

“Shall we go hunting together?”

At first she thought it was just him talking to himself, so she didn’t even answer. But when Ilarid turned to look at Cledius, he was still staring at her.

“Until now, whenever there was a hunting party, the Empress always stayed to guard the palace.”

“My health is not what it used to be.”

“Health improves if you take care of it. What do you think about going hunting together in the outskirts?”

Ilarid’s eyes sharpened as they had in the past. The fire that she thought had been temporarily quelled flared up again in her heart. As if. She was silently shouting that.

“Why? Do you want to show off the Empress’s skills to the world?”

Without even looking at Cledius, Ilarid handed the gun she was holding to an attendant, wielding clear mockery.

“…That would be fine too.”

Her movements stopped for a moment. Ilarid doubted her own ears. The relationship that had been filled only with contempt and derision was showing a tiny crack, if only for an instant.

“I’m afraid that won’t happen.”

Ilarid bowed politely in front of Cledius before leaving the shooting range. It took considerable effort to pretend to be composed. She had to force strength into her trembling legs the entire way back to the Empress’s palace.

It was different from usual. Even just seeing her clean a gun openly, let alone practice shooting, he would have mocked Ilarid with a cynical tone, bringing up the qualities of an Empress. He surely would have brought Selina to the shooting range to provoke her.

But Cledius had simply watched Ilarid quietly. Ilarid found such a settled gaze terribly unsettling.

Cledius’s gaze followed Ilarid’s fading shadow.

An Empress who always only grew distant, never coming into his grasp.

Yet she was still Cledius’s possession. As long as she bore the title of Empress, she could never escape.

‘No, even if she were to be deposed as Empress…’

Ilarid always had to remain within the Emperor’s sight. Even if she were to leave the empire, she must forever exist within Cledius’s grasp.

And yet he felt strangely uneasy. It seemed as if Ilarid might leave at any moment. Was it because of that Lebel? He was going to die soon anyway with poison spreading through his body, so why did he keep bothering Cledius?

Honestly, she wanted to turn the gun on Cledius right there at the shooting range.

But Ilarid was accustomed to putting reason before emotion. The act of suppressing the anger filling her chest, calmly aiming at the target and pulling the trigger. She had to make that act familiar.

So that when the time came, she could point the gun at Cledius.

As soon as she entered the Empress’s palace, Ilarid took off her gloves. Lynette and the other maids hurriedly followed her.

“Lynette, what’s the afternoon schedule?”

“You need to send out invitations for the imperial ball. And you need to review the guest list for the charity party and the budget allocated for the banquet for the Eastern Continent envoys who will arrive soon.”

It was a tight schedule. After the envoys’ banquet and ball, the charity party would be held soon after. Writing the invitations was urgent.

Although they were written over several days, it was a time-consuming task that required preparing separate cards along with invitation phrases appropriate to each situation.

“Your Majesty, how about using a ghostwriter?”

“I prefer writing them myself.”

It was quite a headache to use different greetings, weather-related phrases, and wording for each person. Writing transcriptions and letters could leave her wrists aching, but Ilarid always insisted on the laborious approach.

The guest list had been narrowed down. And Ilarid held the authority over imperial balls and parties. She decided to make the most of her remaining power.

After sending everyone out of her office, Ilarid took out the letters she had hidden inside the transcription papers in her drawer and checked them. With what feelings had they sent letters willingly offering to help?

There was only one connection between them: Keira Rowen Melpiram.

The night before entering the imperial palace, Keira had stroked Ilarid’s hair as she lay in bed, holding her hand tightly. Saying it was important, she emphasized that Ilarid must remember.

‘Someday. If I no longer exist in this world… When I, your brother, your father, and our family can no longer help you.’

Keira’s eyes were trembling. But it was certainly not trembling from fear or sorrow. She lowered her voice even more and whispered in Ilarid’s ear. Like an affectionate mother and daughter sharing a secret.

‘In a public speech, be sure to include ‘these words’. You must include them three times. Understand?’

That day was Ilarid’s first public appearance after the Melpiram tragedy. Reporters were scattered everywhere, and illustrators were busily taking their places to sketch her portrait.

It was the perfect day for words to spread.

Ilarid slowly ascended the ornate platform. Those waiting for the Empress’s speech silently waited for her to speak. What words would flow from the lips of an Empress marked by all manner of tragedy?

‘…It is a warm and beautiful, “Day of May”.’

The ‘these words’ that her mother had spoken so emphatically were ‘Day of May’.

A riddle, or wordplay? At the time she had dismissed the words without a thought, but not now. Whether it was her mother’s code or a call for help, it was fine. What would happen if she said ‘Day of May’ three times?

The speech ended, and nothing happened.

The reporters and others present at the time published various articles about the Empress who showed such composure despite experiencing such a terrible ordeal. The full text of the speech was published in all the empire’s newspapers.

And a few weeks later, various letters disguised as greetings promising cooperation began to arrive for Ilarid. Along with content willingly offering to help the Empress, they all said the same thing in their letters.

It was time for Keira Rowen Melpiram’s legacy to move.