However, since they were not discussing the family’s wrongdoings and responsibilities, Ophelia quietly listened to Idren’s words. He continued speaking.

“There are usually two ways to deal with illegitimate children. Either confine them completely so they can’t go outside, or send them away to an inconspicuous place first. Usually, they’re raised by the former method and then dealt with by the latter when the time comes.”

Upon hearing those words, Ophelia unknowingly recalled the past of the man beside her.

Idren said he was sent to the border before coming of age, and eventually returned to cut off the heads of his relatives.

From a results-oriented perspective, one could say it turned out well. After all, he became the king of Aglante.

Even Mahanas, a prince of a weak country like Reden, wielded absolute power within his nation. The throne of Aglante was far above even someone like Mahanas.

However, it seemed unlikely that the choices Idren made on his way to that position were truly what he desired. She too had sharpened her blade solely for revenge, but fundamentally wished for a peaceful life.

When her thoughts reached this point, Ophelia hesitated for a moment. Should she comfort the man beside her?

Of course, she hadn’t wanted anyone’s consolation in similar situations, but Idren seemed to like warm words.

While she was gauging what to say, Idren spoke.

“I don’t know if you still consider that prince a friend, but if so, it would be better to cut ties. The emperor or crown prince will likely take action soon.”

Ophelia understood his words immediately. Apart from the revulsion she felt at the baseness of the act, she knew why he said such things.

And Netepel would surely know the facts that she knew. Although she was disappointed by his narrow-mindedness and selfishness, Ophelia didn’t think Netepel was that stupid.

So there would be nothing good about souring relations with Aglante…

After thinking that far, Ophelia suddenly realized. She and Idren were already thinking that Aglante would win the future – no, the war – but it would feel different to Netepel.

Perhaps he strongly believed that Brinwell would win. No, it was certain. Netepel must be convinced of Brinwell’s victory. After all, no fool would start a war knowing they would lose.

Of course, Ophelia knew that Netepel’s belief was wrong, but she couldn’t help feeling uneasy in a corner of her heart. After having bad dreams, everything felt unsettling.

But nothing would change by just sitting here.

She rose from her seat and left the bedroom. It was time to start the day.

“So, the refugees from Reden are currently being accommodated in areas of Rohos territory that border the canal.”

The words that came from Salode’s mouth after reviewing ledgers with Dahel were not unfamiliar. She had heard similar things from Anika before.

Ophelia asked.

“Who is managing them?”

“For now, it’s been left to the discretion of the Lord of Rohos, but if the scale grows larger, the royal family will need to take measures.”

Then Salode raised his eyes from the paper to look at her directly.

“Do you have any other preferred methods?”

The eyes meeting hers were a distinct black. Ophelia could easily guess what he was thinking. He probably thought she would step forward to aid the Reden refugees.

She could tell that much just from the tension in his expression as he looked at her.

The man, slightly older than her, generally maintained a neat expression, but he didn’t completely hide his emotions either.

Thanks to this, Ophelia could read that Salode Chesa was worried she might scrape together royal funds to lavish on Reden.

She opened her mouth.

“The country is already in turmoil with war approaching. Tell the Lord of Rohos to stop accepting more refugees.”

“…We can use a certain portion of the budget if that’s what’s concerning you,”

“No, there’s no need for that. Tell them not to accept any more refugees, and not to strain themselves accommodating those who have already settled. Weren’t they people who entered without the king’s permission in the first place?”

After their previous argument about this issue – or more accurately, her one-sided outburst – Idren never made decisions about Reden without informing her first.

He had only informed her about the Reden refugees through Anika’s mouth, without any mention of permission or prohibition, so he was clearly waiting for her decision.

Salode agreed as well.

“That is correct, but…”

“Then we should send them back. I don’t want to be cruel to those with nowhere to go, but doesn’t Reden have its own king? Tell them to knock on the doors of their own royal palace.”

Of course, those doors would never open no matter how much they knocked.

That was exactly what she wanted. Ophelia said to the man who was silently observing her.

“Still, the refugees will feel frustrated if they’re tossed about without knowing anything, so they should have somewhere to direct their resentment. I think one rumor should suffice.”

“Is there a particular message you wish to spread?”

“It should be enough to say that the prince of Reden took the budget I had compassionately allocated for them. It fits well, since he visited Aglante for my birthday.”

In truth, she hadn’t given Mahanas a single coin, but what mattered was not the facts, but how plausible people found it.

None of Reden’s people would be unaware of the hierarchical relationship between her and Mahanas, so everyone would believe those words.

Even if Mahanas tried to correct the rumor after hearing it, not many would sincerely believe what he said, so the rumor would solidify as fact.

Ophelia asked the man who was looking at her with somewhat bewildered eyes.

“Is it difficult?”

Even after hearing those words, Salode couldn’t immediately erase the astonishment on his face. After blinking his eyes for a moment, he bowed his head.

“…No. It will be done as you said soon.”

After Salode’s report ended, an unexpected person was waiting for a private audience.

Ophelia looked at the large man kneeling before her. This man, whose name she couldn’t quite remember, worked as a handyman in the castle, but was actually someone Starlet had pushed in as her messenger. He said the man was suitable for disguise as he didn’t have the typical pirate tattoos.

“Does your captain have anything to relay?”

Then the man, whose tongue had been cut out – a punishment usually given for the crime of insulting those of higher status or for fraud – held out an envelope to her.

Opening the envelope, which was a bit heavy to contain just paper, Ophelia discovered a small jewel inside. It was a blue jewel, as blue as the raw stone she had received before.

Unfolding the letter that came with the jewel, she saw the elegant handwriting she had seen a few times before. It was Starlet’s.

The letter was full of plausible words, but the real substance was contained in the short paragraph at the end.

Excluding the nauseating praises interspersed throughout, the content of the paragraph was as follows:

-I heard you recently celebrated your birthday. As it happens, I have acquired some items befitting noble personages, but I fear giving just the items might cause them to be buried among other gifts. Therefore, I have prepared a tale of distant seas to accompany them, and it would be an honor if you would grant me another chance to kiss your hand. P.S. I send a portion so you may guess at the gift. For anticipation of a meeting is a joy in itself.

In other words, it meant he wanted to meet face to face.

Putting down the letter paper that so clearly revealed the man’s desire to be loved in every land he still lingered in, Ophelia spoke to the man kneeling before her.

“It seems your captain has come to Galisa.”

Unable to answer, the man lowered his head a little more to affirm.

After looking down at him for a moment, Ophelia said.

“Tell him it would be better to come directly, as I have no intention of leaving my husband’s castle. As for the date… yes, about two weeks from now would be suitable.”

In truth, she could have met earlier, but people like Starlet tended to misunderstand and think she had affection for them if given too much leeway. It seemed to be a habit ingrained from making lovers all over the place.

After gesturing to dismiss the man before her, Ophelia threw the received letter into the fireplace. It was then that she suddenly remembered something Idren had said.

“…You’ve only written me a letter once, haven’t you?”

At that time, she had clearly said she would write him a letter if the opportunity arose.

Looking down at the paper turning black and white as it burned, Ophelia approached the desk and took out stationery. Since she remembered now, she should write and send it right away, lest she forget.

However, when it came to actually writing the letter, she had nothing to say.

Frowning at the cream-colored paper with gold embossing, Ophelia thought about what to say to him. Writing about Reden or internal affairs seemed pointless, as such things were already being reported separately.

Moreover, no matter what, she didn’t want to write such boring things to her husband.

If only she had a pet, she could have written about that.

After looking down at the paper with blank eyes for a moment, Ophelia finally picked up the pen. With a slightly trembling hand, she wrote the first word.