Sophia briefly showed a puzzled expression as if she didn’t understand what her question meant, then made an “Ah” sound.

“I will guide you to the bedroom.”

This time, it was Erdene who looked around with an expression similar to Sophia’s.

“You mean this isn’t the bedroom?”

There was clearly a bed where Erdene was, and flowers and candles were decorated here and there to an unnecessary degree.

The gentle shadows of light cast over the soft carpet trembled faintly, and the cozy fragrance spreading over it evoked a pleasant drowsiness.

‘It would be nice if I could just lie down and sleep here alone.’

But just as her wish for rain had not been granted, this time too, there was no god in Betor to grant Erdene’s wish.

Erdene briefly thought that this was the disadvantage of a country without a state religion.

Although she herself didn’t believe in the existence of gods either.

Sophia said,

“There is a separate formal bedroom for the wedding night, Your Highness.”

Erdene’s brow furrowed.

She questioned whether this was really necessary, but… By her standards, not only the Betor royal family but all the laws, regulations, and formalities of Hirschsten were just cumbersome.

It was because she was too accustomed to military administration where only the important things needed to be conveyed quickly due to urgency.

Only after passing through winding and bent corridors about four times did Erdene finally reach the ‘formal bedroom’.

Sophia further brightened the flame of the largest candlestick and slightly bowed her head in a polite manner.

“Then, Your Highness. I will take my leave now. His Majesty will be here shortly, so please wait.”

Erdene sighed with a displeased sound.

Thinking that was the farewell, Sophia left through a small door back into the complex corridor without asking anything else.

“Spacious.”

Erdene’s first impression of the room was short and concise.

It was certainly larger than the room where she had just changed clothes, applied perfume, and had to go through all sorts of fuss—though the maids did the fussing—and the bed was more luxurious.

The translucent curtains flowed down, half-drawn over the canopy, and soft white new sheets that made the back of her knees itch just by looking at them were spread out.

Erdene slowly looked around the room and discovered alcohol placed on the table.

Just as she was about to put her lips to the long neck after breaking off the tightly sealed cork with one finger, Arkan suddenly entered as the door opened.

“Pft!”

A couple of drops of alcohol spilled from between Erdene’s lips and splashed onto the table.

Arkan briefly frowned as if he had seen quite a messy person, then sighed and approached.

“Can’t you stop drinking straight from the bottle? No, why are you backing away?”

Erdene stared at Arkan while tightly gripping the bottle neck as if she had encountered a robber.

Now that she looked, her eyes were wide open like someone quite startled by something.

Arkan tilted his head with a worried expression.

“Are you alright?”

Erdene, who had been moving her lips slightly, looked at Arkan as if dumbfounded.

“What on earth are you wearing?”

At the sudden question, Arkan narrowed his brow again.

He looked down at the clothes he was wearing, but… there was nothing strange anywhere. The buttons were properly fastened, and there were no wrinkles or stains.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Your skin is all visible.”

“I suppose they were meant to be seen.”

“Who on earth made you wear such a thing?”

“I don’t know. Shall I bring them here?”

Erdene let out an exasperated sigh and waved her hand.

“No, it’s fine. If I knew who it was, I’d probably beat them up someday.”

Arkan’s mouth fell open. Erdene was about to take another sip of alcohol but put the bottle back on the table, not wanting to hear his nagging.

The two paced for a moment, keeping a certain distance as if they were about to engage in a fight.

Both Erdene and Arkan found each other’s appearance unfamiliar.

It was the first time they had faced each other in such a dark place—moreover, in a place that had tried its best to fan the flames of a suggestive atmosphere—and in fact, it wasn’t just Arkan’s clothes that were see-through.

Erdene’s lips pouted slightly as if trying to be mischievous.

“I thought the Kingdom of Betor was polite and devout, so I expected the walls to be crowded with portraits of past kings and queens, but it’s not like that at all.”

Arkan opened his eyes wide as if he had heard the most terrible ghost story in the world.

It was one of the more intense reactions he had shown in front of Erdene so far.

“Don’t tell me the Imperial bridal chamber is decorated like that?”

“…Well, not on all sides.”

“So they are there after all. Good heavens, not being born as an Imperial royal in this life is the best thing I’ve ever done. I don’t think I’ll feel much guilt even if I laze about for the rest of my life.”

Erdene almost burst out laughing but held it in by biting the inside of her cheek hard.

She bit so hard that she could almost hear the flesh being crushed in her head with a crunch.

She folded her arms and looked around at the walls adorned with beautiful paintings, wallpaper, embroidery, and wainscoting.

“In the Imperial Palace, you can see portraits of ancestors everywhere you go. Whether small or large.”

“No matter what, shouldn’t the bridal chamber be an exception? Portraits of ancestors, I don’t see how it’s any different from doing the deed in front of a photo of your deceased grandmother.”

This time, Erdene gave Arkan a look that said, ‘What kind of dirty person is this?’

Erdene said,

“They’re not hanging on all sides. There’s just one portrait of the empress who bore the most children in the empire.”

“That must be the climax of this story. When I participate in the next ghost story gathering, I could win first place if I reference the queen’s tale.”

“Ghost story gathering?”

“We often have reading gatherings. I encourage you to attend frequently as well. Although it’s a brief meeting held when time allows, discussing various literature broadens one’s perspective…”

Arkan’s words were cut short.

It was because Erdene had picked up the bottle of alcohol she had put down earlier.

After emptying about half the bottle in one go, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Arkan said,

“Does the alcohol turn into water if you drink it from a glass?”

His tone was clearly sarcastic. But Erdene retorted without backing down.

“Sipping from these tiny glasses doesn’t suit my temperament.”

Arkan furrowed his brow, tightening the corners of his mouth.

“First of all, your nails aren’t that big. Ah, was that perhaps a figure of speech?”

“Do you really want to get hit?”

“Reactions involving violence are not good either. You should also try to correct that quick-tempered personality. If you calm your mind and think rationally, you’ll usually get much better results.”

“I find that I calm down quickly after beating up all the people who annoy me into silence.”

Arkan continued speaking, trying to let Erdene’s fierce retort go in one ear and out the other.

“And even if it doesn’t suit your temperament, now that you’ve become the queen of Betor, shouldn’t you make at least that much effort?”

A look of disgust immediately appeared on Erdene’s face.

Arkan nodded nonchalantly as if he had anticipated even that—Erdene couldn’t understand what this gesture meant—and continued in his characteristic articulate manner.

“If you had become the emperor of Hirschsten, would you have drunk straight from the bottle in front of your subjects? I think not.”

“Ah, of course. If I had taken the imperial crown as my father wished, I would have naturally made that much effort.”

This time, Arkan wore an expression of disgust. He stared at Erdene for a moment with narrowed eyes before bursting into a wry laugh.

“So what you’re saying now is that the position of Betor’s queen is incomparable to the empire’s emperor… Is that it?”

“Do you call that speaking, Your Majesty?”

Arkan’s expression grew somewhat cold.

Until just now, it had been mere bickering, but this time it was different.

It was a statement that would be difficult to tolerate even as a king leading a country.

At that moment, Erdene took a step towards Arkan, almost throwing down the bottle.

Now that he looked, her expression too had become much sharper than before.

Erdene said,

“Whether emperor or king, Your Majesty already knows what it means to be in that position. Will you say you don’t know its value because it’s in your hands? You wouldn’t dare. Sitting in a position that rules over all people, enjoying the glorious honor given to me, and thus dedicating my body and mind to the country I was born and raised in, the country I loved. I was raised to live only for that, and it was my only future and hope. But I lost it overnight, and now I have to be content with just the title of queen.”

As she clenched her molars in anger that burned like fire, she tasted something fishy and sticky.

It seemed blood had seeped from the inside of her cheek that she had bitten earlier.

Erdene swallowed the scent that made her nostrils unpleasant, yet so familiar, past her throat, and clenched and unclenched her fist with her eyes wide open.

“You ask if the position of Betor’s queen is incomparable to the position of the empire’s emperor? Isn’t that obvious? I was born to be a ruler, Your Majesty. Not a ruler’s wife.”