“Anastasha.”

At the sudden intrusion of a voice, the women chatting in the street turned their gazes toward its owner.

A woman, whose presence no one could recall clearly, stood with a gentle smile at her lips, repeating once more the true name of the princess the women had been gossiping about.

“It’s Princess Anastasha.”

The woman’s identity was Lisa, a former servant who had worked under Hariel for quite some time.

The members of the Brillion family had exploited Celia to accumulate wealth, yet when Celia ultimately abandoned them, they harbored resentment and led the charge in branding her a witch.

Lisa, who had witnessed all of this unfold right beside them, had quietly left long ago and taken refuge at a relative’s home in the capital.

It was Lisa who had testified that, despite the claim of a public courtship, the Brillion family had essentially auctioned Celia off to men.

While she had lived at the viscount’s estate, she had known full well that Celia was being treated unfairly, yet there was nothing she could do.

How must Celia, once a princess of an entire kingdom, have felt living in that estate?

Lisa looked up at the clear sky, feeling her heart ache.

A cloudless day.

The long, stretched sunlight sparkled more dazzlingly than usual.

“The bodies of those killed because of Ileon have been mostly recovered, but we need to recruit new royal knights. We also need to hire servants and repair the palace….”

Dietrich stared blankly at Celia, who spoke wrapped only in a single blanket.

“…Are you even listening to me?”

Celia narrowed her eyes at Dietrich, who seemed only half-attentive to her words.

“Are you really starting with work the moment you wake up?”

Celia let out a soft chuckle at Dietrich’s remark.

“What, did you think rebuilding a fallen dynasty and founding a new nation would be easy?”

“I wouldn’t mind just the two of us quietly leaving and traveling together, without founding any nation at all.”

Dietrich pulled Celia close and whispered.

His large hand slipped beneath the blanket wrapped around Celia’s body.

Dietrich knew exactly which spots would make Celia react.

As he touched a sensitive area, Celia grabbed tightly onto Dietrich’s strong forearm, her nails pressing in.

“If this keeps up, we’ll waste the entire day again.”

Celia barely suppressed her rising pleasure and glared fiercely at Dietrich.

“You—after last night, aren’t you the least bit tired?”

Dietrich answered by pressing a kiss to Celia’s cheek.

“Not at all.”

Celia glanced at Dietrich’s body—naked and unashamed—while she herself remained tightly wrapped in the blanket.

Between his perfectly sculpted muscles were the vivid marks Celia had left the night before.

Seeing his body, tense and ready as if he could pounce on her at any moment, Celia awkwardly cleared her throat and looked away.

“I told you. I won’t do anything you dislike.”

Dietrich obediently released her.

Yet the moment his hands left her, Celia found herself oddly disappointed.

“It’s not that I’m strange. It’s just that this man has healing abilities, so naturally I feel regret when we stop.”

Celia nodded firmly to herself, absurdly justifying her feelings.

Dietrich, who could read her expression perfectly, wore a knowing, mischievous smile.

Staring intently at Celia, he finally spoke.

“…Asha.”

Even though he called her real name, Celia felt as if someone else’s unfamiliar name had been spoken.

She had never imagined a day would come when she’d hear her own name—her parents’ beloved nickname for her—uttered aloud.

“Anderson is capable. Very much so.”

Celia immediately understood Dietrich’s implication.

“Are you planning to spend the whole day lounging in bed and leaving everything to Sir Anderson again?”

“It’s not lounging in bed. It’s a sacred ritual to heal your body.”

Celia couldn’t hold back and burst into loud laughter at Dietrich’s words.

Her bright, clear laughter filled the bedroom.

Anderson stood by the door, waiting for the right moment to report, bright and early in the morning.

“Capable indeed! My lord truly trusts me. I must work even harder.”

Anderson wiped away tears that flowed despite his will and quietly left.

Perched atop Anderson’s head, Popo was dozing off with little nods.

Popo, treating Anderson’s head as its nest, opened its eyes comfortably for a moment before drifting back to sleep.

It was, at last, spring.

The strongest opposition to founding the new nation came from the established elite.

High-ranking nobles, unable to relinquish their power easily, eventually incited Balt.

“Your Grace, Duke Portman. Wouldn’t it be better if you yourself took the throne?”

An elderly elder, speaking on behalf of the nobles, addressed Balt.

Balt let out a disbelieving chuckle.

Who was Dietrich?

He was the man who had killed Arthur.

Balt well understood how powerful Arthur, the so-called genius mage, had been.

The moment Dietrich killed Arthur, Balt realized something.

He had come to understand that Dietrich was stronger than himself, the man hailed as the greatest swordsman.

It was better to preserve one’s life through diplomacy than to recklessly charge in and meet a dog’s death.

Pride? What was mere pride worth?

Pride could only be maintained if one still had their life.

Just look at the deceased Arthur and Ileon.

“What are you talking about? I don’t have even a speck of desire to sit on the throne.”

Balt’s firm words deepened the elder’s already numerous wrinkles even further.

Balt tapped the desk with one finger, resting his chin on his other hand.

Then, as if remembering something, he abruptly stood up.

“Wait. I should go to the palace and ask first.”

The elder’s face, which had been tense, suddenly brightened.

But his expression froze rigid at Balt’s next words.

“Whether the princess should be emperor, or that man should. In my opinion, the princess is better suited for the role.”

“G-Great Lord…!”

“What do you old folks think?”

Balt’s steely gray eyes turned toward the elder.

The elder, shocked, could not utter a word and clutched the back of his neck.

Balt scoffed and slammed the desk with a loud bang.

The expensive mahogany desk cracked under the brute force.

“I’m going to die from frustration. Stop your nonsense and just accept it! The ability to adapt when times change is a skill too, you know!”

Balt shook his hands dismissively and left the room.

The elder, still clutching his neck, collapsed unconscious from shock.

When he finally regained consciousness several days later, the name of Abelon had already been changed to Anastasha.

Just as Dietrich said, Anderson truly was capable.

Anderson, who publicly declared the fall of the Great Empire Abelon and announced the new nation’s name as Anastasha, stated his intention to minimize disruption to the people’s daily lives.

He did not rashly strip the nobles of their privileges.

The nobles, who had been frantic at the thought of losing their holdings, breathed a sigh of relief.

Of course, this was merely deception.

Instead of taking away noble titles, Anderson made them watch each other.

Rewards were given to those who reported misconduct, while punishment awaited the accused. Dozens of reports poured in each day.

Nobles who had previously colluded with Ileon or abused their power to commit vile acts had their titles and assets completely confiscated.

“Because that bastard Ileon killed nearly all the royal household members, the palace is practically empty. The nation has stabilized to some extent, but the palace is hollow…”

Anderson frowned, his expression serious.

Popo pecked at Anderson’s head, demanding attention.

Celia, watching how well Popo obeyed Anderson, asked him:

“We’ll need to recruit new royal knights, palace maids, and servants, right?”

“Yes, my lady. Since over half of the deceased were nobles, it may take some time to fill all positions.”

“Must they all be nobles?”

Anderson’s eyes widened at Celia’s question.

Dietrich, standing beside Celia, shot a sharp glare at Anderson, who couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.

Anderson cleared his throat and asked for Celia’s opinion.

“My lady, what do you suggest…?”

“Recruit without regard to background. As long as they’re capable, that’s all that matters.”

Celia smiled sweetly.

“Once we’ve chosen the royal staff, we’ll hold a grand coronation ceremony.”

Celia looked up at Dietrich and said:

“You will be emperor.”

Dietrich made a displeased face.

“The emperor role suits you far better than me.”

“I hate anything troublesome. You’ll be emperor.”

Celia stated firmly.

What could he do when his beloved partner said such a thing?

“…Fine.”

He had no choice but to comply.