Erdene Baatar frowned deeply, her lips parting in astonishment.

She tensed her entire body so much that the thin fabric of her robe felt taut against her skin.

However, Arkan Cyprosmine, either unaware of this fact—or perhaps pretending not to notice—spoke with a manner that seemed both earnest and somewhat sly.

“Your inability to answer suggests I’ve hit the mark. To think you were worried about such things, you do have an adorable side.”

I can’t take it anymore! Erdene struck the armrest of the chair with her tightly clenched fist.

Following the dull thud, there came a creaking sound, as if suddenly remembering, and then the crack of solid wood grain splitting.

Now it was Arkan’s turn to gape.

He stared in disbelief at the armrest that could no longer serve its purpose after being struck by Erdene’s fist.

“What… what are you doing? Did you just break the chair?”

“Take it back.”

Arkan, having forgotten what they were discussing earlier while staring at the broken armrest, blinked in confusion.

With each blink, his long eyelashes cast thin, dense shadows before fading away.

Erdene spoke.

“Did you not hear me? I said take it back!”

“Take what back?”

“That nonsense about me being adorable or whatever. Take it back.”

Arkan finally managed to piece together the chaotic situation in his mind—though he still couldn’t believe it.

How on earth did she do that with just her fist?—and immediately burst into laughter.

He knew laughing wouldn’t improve matters, but he couldn’t help himself.

“What if I refuse? It’s not like I said anything wrong. Can’t I even call you adorable if I want to?”

Erdene furrowed her brow and bared her teeth.

However, while such an expression might have suited a battlefield, adorned with armor, sword, and burning fervor, it was difficult for her warrior-like demeanor to fully manifest in a bridal chamber softly lit by candles and decorated with flowers and wine.

Arkan looked down at Erdene’s face with an incredulous expression.

What’s the problem here? Does the word ‘adorable’ cause blisters under her tongue or something?

Erdene said,

“There’s no one in this world who dares to speak to me in such a sickeningly sweet manner.”

It was almost a threat. But Arkan, already—quite—accustomed to Erdene’s fiery temperament, countered with a wry smile.

“Well, here I am. Your husband.”

“Do you really want to try me?”

At this point, even Arkan lost his composure, but he still maintained a calm demeanor as he spoke.

“I don’t understand why you need to be so sharp over a few words. Calling you adorable was merely a friendly expression.”

The moment he finished speaking, Erdene frowned with a different expression than before and said,

“Why are you suddenly talking about setting fires?”

“What do you mean?”

“You just mentioned ignition, didn’t you?”

“What’s wrong with that…?”

As Arkan questioned with a puzzled tone, a look of realization dawned on his face.

“Did you just confuse ‘expression’ with ‘ignition’?”

Erdene’s shoulders flinched.

She wore a dazed expression as if she didn’t understand Arkan’s words, then abruptly turned her head away from him.

“Damn this common tongue. Everything sounds so similar, it’s confusing!”

Her fist struck the poor armrest once more. The cracked wooden pieces could no longer hold and fell to the floor with a clatter.

Erdene was muttering something under her breath, seemingly curses in the Empire’s language, mixed with dialect.

At that moment, Arkan noticed that the edges of Erdene’s ears, which were stubbornly turned away from him, had turned slightly red.

Seeing her small ears with faint scars flushed red, Arkan was once again seized by that peculiar feeling from before.

A strange excitement and impulse that started from behind his knees, through the inside of his thighs, and up his spine in reverse, made his fingertips twitch involuntarily.

But before Arkan’s hand could reach her hair, Erdene stood up abruptly without warning.

“What are you doing?”

Erdene turned to look at Arkan as if to say, ‘You call that a question?’

“I’m going to sleep.”

“You do realize this is our wedding night, don’t you?”

Erdene’s lips closed silently.

She glanced sideways at Arkan’s hair, which was curling more softly than usual, his slightly flushed face—from their argument—and his body clad in sheer clothing.

‘I thought he’d be scrawny from always being hunched over a desk, but unexpectedly, that’s not the case at all.’

She could see his well-balanced chest, toned abdomen, and shoulders set in a neat, square shape.

Erdene felt her mouth go dry without realizing it, then bit her tongue hard and turned away.

“Let’s just skip it. I’ll sleep in the other room, Your Majesty can do as you please here.”

As she began to walk away with large strides, a flustered Arkan followed after her.

“Wait, hold on. What are you doing?”

“I said we’re sleeping separately!”

“Are you sending me away on our wedding night? From the very first night?”

“Good heavens, did I say I was kicking you out? I’m just saying we should sleep separately!”

Their voices grew louder and louder.

If anyone had been passing by outside, they might have thought the newly wedded royal couple was waging war from their very first night… but neither of them cared about that.

“What I mean is, why are we sleeping separately!”

Erdene looked at Arkan’s face once more.

Suddenly, she recalled the day she first saw him.

That feeling of wanting to punch that smooth, clean face rarely seen in the Empire…

Right now, she was experiencing the same feeling.

For some unknown reason, her entire body felt itchy, her forehead alternated between burning hot and freezing cold, and she couldn’t breathe naturally, making her want to beat the person before her…

“What do you mean why! I just don’t want to sleep with Your Majesty!”

Finally, Arkan Cyprosmine, seemingly thoroughly angered, pressed his lips tightly and abruptly turned his body.

His back, turned without hesitation, rose slightly, then slowly settled as if trying to calm down.

Arkan spoke.

“If you dislike it so much, fine. We won’t share a room in the future either. Go and sleep alone, comfortably.”

After saying that, he walked steadily to the large bed and lay down without even covering himself with the sheet.

Was it because the fragrant flowers, wine, and candles that chased away the darkness with their cozy flicker had all become useless? Arkan’s back, turned away from Erdene Baatar, somehow looked lonely.

Seeing this, Erdene unconsciously felt a bit sorry, then startled at her own thoughts, she irritably turned her head away.

‘Blast it, this isn’t my job! Sorry? Me, sorry? Who on earth am I supposed to be sorry to!’

The sound of a door closing was heard.

Arkan, who had been stubbornly keeping his eyes closed, suddenly sat up.

“She really left when I told her to go.”

[This is the timeline separator]

After their fiery wedding night—not in the conventional sense, of course—Erdene was so overwhelmed by the myriad of tasks that descended upon her like a winter north wind that she could barely think straight.

Although born and raised in the imperial palace, she had spent most of her childhood on the training grounds rather than by her mother’s side, and thus had little idea what an empress or queen did all day.

Occasionally, when she would burst in to see her mother, covered in dust, she would find her mother quietly sitting and sewing, reading a book, or if not, sharing tea and conversation with ladies from various noble families.

[Mother must have it good.] [What do you mean, Erdene?] [You get to play all day. I’m going to be the emperor like Father, but Father is always busy.]

She had said such things without a second thought in her ignorant childhood.

The empress, who was generally lenient with her children and others, merely pretended to give her clueless daughter a light tap on the head for her words, but Erdene herself couldn’t possibly do the same now.

‘If my younger self were here now, I’d hang her upside down and shake her thoroughly, then tie her to a tree branch and spank her.’

As she wrote yet another reply letter, she ground her teeth at her past self.

When told that she had to personally write replies to all the congratulatory letters from various regions, Erdene felt like she wanted to just faint.

“His Majesty is probably writing replies himself as well. Although he’s excellent at writing, it will likely take him half a day to consider appropriate phrases and sentences.”

Sophia Bischegelo Fiddlers said this, but it was no consolation to Erdene.

Besides her dislike for writing, Erdene had one more crucial problem.

“I’ve told you, I’m not familiar with the writing used in the mainland! Blast it, I’ve never even written a military report from the battlefield with my own hands!”

“Then who…”

“The adjutants write them!”

Erdene pounded on the desk.

Sophia, with a nonchalant yet swift manner, moved the open inkwell and the most expensive ornament to another place.

“I can teach you the letters, Your Highness. If you tell me how you want to reply, I can also write it down and show it to you.”

“Don’t just show me, why don’t you just send that, Sophia? You write it. I’m not cut out for fiddling with a pen.”

“That won’t do.”

When Sophia responded firmly, Erdene immediately made a displeased expression.