“It’s hard to describe feelings with words.”

If everything could be explained with just a few words, how monotonous human emotions would be.

“It’s just that they don’t show it on the outside.”

Charlotte took out more poison. Thanks to Benjamin watching where she took it from, she easily extracted the poison.

Rather than confusing her mind with a long story, this small consolation was enough.

“Do you drink well?”

“Are you asking me?”

“You must not complain of a stomachache the next day.”

The two held the bottles side by side.

“I heard that Windsor doesn’t confront people with alcohol.”

“Who raised such a falsehood to His Majesty?”

Charlotte smiled faintly, and Benjamin also nodded.

“Drinking by the bottle may be against royal etiquette.”

Charlotte cast a cold, frozen gaze out the window.

“Your Majesty will soon be above the law of the court, will you not?”

We must get through tomorrow as if nothing has happened.

Even if it’s a bit dull, it’s okay to wash it down with alcohol.

The poison scorched her throat. By now, all of this was familiar.

Things that should not be hastily accustomed to gradually became familiar.

“I am getting sleepy now.”

Charlotte spoke haltingly, interspersing her words.

It was late. The moonlit bedroom was tranquil. As if time had stopped, everything was slow.

If everything could just stop like this.

Ah, is this evasion?

With such thoughts, she gazed blankly out the window, and the night was unusually long.

(This is a time separator.)

The palace at dawn was unusually quiet.

Charlotte woke up lazily in bed. As her eyes blinked slowly, her blurry vision gradually cleared.

The bed beside her was empty. When she brushed it with her hand, a faint warmth remained.

Charlotte slowly clenched her fist. She felt like the warmth that clung to the bedsheet caught in her hand.

“Has Her Majesty the Empress awakened?”

The chamberlain gave a sign outside.

“I will enter.”

The chamberlain’s eyes widened at the scene shimmering beyond the canopy.

A woman with her red hair spread out was sitting up lazily in bed, sweeping her hair behind her ears, blinking in a mysterious way.

When the chamberlain stood still, Charlotte turned her head.

“Do you intend to keep standing like that?”

“My, my apologies.”

“Prepare warm bathwater. I need to soak my body.”

Charlotte relaxed her tired muscles in the bathwater, and her hangoverinduced headache cleared up.

“The Emperor, His Majesty?”

“He got up early in the morning and headed to the training ground. It should be time for him to have finished morning training and gone to the office.”

Benjamin was a renowned knight in the palace before he became emperor.

The position of crown prince made him so. His nature of pushing himself for survival since his days as crown prince was still the same.

He devoted himself to training in the training ground from early dawn, and overseeing morning duties was Benjamin’s daily routine.

“He is strict with others, but also with himself. That’s why the aides groan, yet respect His Majesty.”

Charlotte responded, sweeping her hair aside.

“Stop the bath now and help me dress.”

“Yes. I’ll bring your bathrobe.”

The maids followed, wiping her body’s moisture, and quickly began dressing.

The chamberlain clapped his hands, focusing the maids’ attention.

“Bring the hair ribbon. Tying it with ribbon would be nice.”

So the day slowly passed.

At that time.

An informant came to the palace. The informant knocked on the office door.

“Your Majesty. I will enter.”

Benjamin leaned back at his office desk, his legs crossed. As he raised his head, his snakelike eyes narrowed. Benjamin put down his quill and massaged his neck. The aides swallowed dryly at his leisurely gesture.

“What is it?”

“You remember the old man who regularly visits you at the gate of the castle?”

“Ah, that farmer……. What about him?”

“He’s at the gate again. At first, he looked old and shabby, as if he had been scorned, but there seems to be something going on.”
“So didn’t I tell you to put a mark if I come again?”

If it was someone who had come only once, it might be different, but if someone had come several times, there must be a reason.

“I will report and put it in. The old man took the scribe to his home.”

Benjamin Visennov narrowed his eyes with a face as if to say, what is this?

“Understood. Stand by for now.”

Benjamin looked out of his office. The palace was busy from early morning.

.

.

Soon, the messenger knocked on the office window.

“It’s an urgent report.”

It was a red string. It was an urgent report sent from the intelligence agency. The aide opened the report.

The note was sealed with sealing wax and stamped with a red phoenix, marked ‘First Class.’ It meant that no one should open it except the Emperor. Benjamin, who opened the note, was silent for a while.

He briefly mentioned that he would come and explain in detail later. The aides were summoned. A subtle silence fell over the palace.

(This is a time separator.)

The old man wailed as he looked at the corpse abandoned in the field.