“Hoo.”
Standing before the Receiving Room door, Etienne drew in a deep breath and let it out. After smoothing his expression one last time, he signaled to Ben with his eyes.
“…! Your Highness!”
Rishar, who had been sitting on the sofa with an anxious face, shot to his feet when Etienne came in. Etienne lifted a hand to tell him not to approach and walked to the seat opposite him.
With every step Etienne took, Rishar’s gaze followed. Etienne pressed strength into his toes so his stride wouldn’t wobble.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Not at all.”
Sitting down as he followed Etienne, Rishar answered. With eyes full of worry, he studied Etienne’s complexion.
“I didn’t mean to disturb your rest. I only wanted to look at your face for a moment to see if you were all right…”
Seeing Etienne so clearly worse than a few days ago, Rishar couldn’t finish. His already pale skin had lost all color to the point of a bluish cast, and the weight lost in his face left the cheekbones faintly jutting.
“Are you all right? Can you be moving about like this?”
Unable to continue at the sight of how ill Etienne looked, Rishar asked in a careful tone.
He had forced the issue because he thought he would go mad if he didn’t see with his own eyes how sick Etienne was and in what way—but seeing him look as if he might collapse at any moment, regret surged at his own obstinacy.
“Well… it was rough until yesterday, but today I’m a little better. Ah—if there’s some strange smell, please overlook it.”
“Pardon?”
“I couldn’t wash properly for days because of the fever. I wiped down quickly with a wet towel and sprayed some perfume…”
“There’s no strange smell.”
Rishar cut in on Etienne’s words to answer. Etienne did smell of flowers, but he had no mind to care about that now.
“Good.”
Did that pass? Narrowing his eyes, Etienne watched Rishar’s face, then tilted his eyes in a small smile and took up the teacup prepared for him. Thankfully, there was no sign he was suspecting anything.
“So what did you come for? You didn’t really come only to look at my face, did you?”
“I did come only to look at your face. Not knowing how ill you were, I couldn’t just sit there. I meant to check that you were all right and go back, but…”
At Etienne’s question, Rishar wore an embarrassed look. His voice trailed smaller and smaller and then cut off.
“Rishar?”
When he suddenly stopped speaking, Etienne tilted his head. Rishar couldn’t meet Etienne’s eyes and lowered his gaze gloomily.
Only a moment ago, he had thought seeing Etienne’s face would let him breathe—nothing of the sort. At the shockingly pale face, a heavy guilt rose up. It was entirely his fault Etienne was this sick.
“I’m sorry for disturbing your rest… for being a nuisance.”
With a set expression, Rishar apologized. He straightened his posture and bowed his head deeply.
“I want to apologize for that day. I failed to conduct myself properly and caused you trouble. I am truly ashamed.”
For Rishar, the past five days had been filled with worry and regret. Even now, he did not know why Etienne had behaved that way. He had guesses, but nothing he felt sure was the answer.
“I also gave Lady Stella a sharp warning. I’ll have her apologize to Your Highness properly later.”
“Enough.”
When he mentioned Stella, Etienne cut him off.
“Neither you nor Lady Stella did anything wrong. There’s no need to apologize.”
“But—”
“Rather, I’m sorry. That day… even before I went to look for you, I wasn’t in a good mood. I had something on my mind.”
“Something on your mind?”
“Mm. I’d meant to return the cardigan that day and consult you, but…”
How do I say this without telling him I was jealous—without admitting I realized the conceit I’d been holding about him and ran away in shame.
Etienne wetted his lips and chose his words. Thankfully, he had a decent pretext. He decided to make scapegoats of the attendants who had gossiped about Rishar.
“As you know, there was a bit of a scene in the middle. Those attendants.”
“Ah.”
“I was already in a bad mood, and hearing them chatter made it worse. Then suddenly greeting Lady Stella in that state threw me. It also bothered me a little, the way she spoke as if she knew me well.”
“I’m sorry. It’s because of me that Lady Stella knew about Your Highness.”
“Well… she’s your retainer. It isn’t strange that she knows about me. In any case, I think I got hot for a moment because I felt rushed but kept being interrupted.”
“…”
“And the cold… it wasn’t because of the rain. I already had it before.”
“Even so, if you hadn’t been rained on, it wouldn’t have gotten this bad.”
With a dark face, Rishar muttered. Looking at his guilt-ridden face, Etienne let out a small sigh.
“I can’t say the rain had no effect at all… but even so, that doesn’t make it your fault. I’m the one who flared up and ran out; I’m the fool who stood in the rain to cool off.”
“Even so, I—”
“Stop. No more self-reproach.”
“Your Highness.”
“Let’s end this here. I’m not looking to receive an apology from you or Lady Stella. I don’t want to argue with you over nothing.”
“…Understood. If that is Your Highness’s wish, it can’t be helped.”
Rishar, whose eyes had twitched as if he wanted to object, sighed and lifted both hands. Even so, he stubbornly added:
“But please accept Lady Stella’s apology.”
“All right.”
Etienne gave a light nod and lifted his cup. Talking without pause made the back of his throat prickle.
“At any rate, since I have the chance to speak with you today, I want to say what I couldn’t then.”
“Please, go ahead.”
Leaning forward, Rishar spoke. A faint tension showed on his face.
“Rishar.”
Clink. Setting the cup down on the table, Etienne looked at him more seriously than ever. It was time to negotiate.
“Do you want to be Emperor?”
“What kind of question is that, all of a sudden?”
At the rather out-of-the-blue question, Rishar’s eyes narrowed slightly. Etienne’s expression, by contrast, was calm.
“Exactly what it sounds like. Do you have any thought of being Emperor?”
“…If it’s that matter, I believe I’ve said this before. I have no desire at all for the throne.”
In a firm voice, Rishar drew a line. He didn’t want to talk with Etienne on this topic.
“What does it matter if you don’t—people don’t think that way.”
“Those people are trash who want to use me to fill their own greed. I have no intention of being a puppet who feeds such men.”
At how strongly he came out, Etienne looked faintly surprised. He asked with simple curiosity:
“Truly not even a little thought?”
“No.”
Without a hair’s breadth of hesitation, Rishar answered. Then, with a look of frustration, he added:
“I’ve told you over and over. No matter what anyone says, I have no interest in the throne.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
With a face that said Isn’t that obvious, Rishar looked at Etienne. He was sick of this sort of talk. Half-sure, he asked:
“Did His Majesty say something to Your Highness?”
“Well…”
At his question, Etienne let his words trail. That alone was an answer.
That damned man—of course he did.
Annoyance shot up in an instant; Rishar ground his teeth. After all he’d said, it seemed his words had gone in one imperial ear and out the other.
“Whatever His Majesty said, ignore it.”
Holding back the urge to go and confront the Emperor this instant, Rishar spoke.
“Not long ago, I made my intention clear to him. You don’t have to worry. No—let me state it openly while we’re at it.”
“What?”
“Tomorrow I’ll declare that I have no designs on the throne and that I support Your Highness. If necessary, I’ll even renounce my right of succession.”
“You can’t!”
“Why not? If I renounce, His Majesty and everyone else will stop coveting nonsense.”
At Etienne trying to stop him, Rishar looked puzzled. Pressed by both the Emperor and the Empress, he had thought Etienne would welcome his decision.
“If you renounce, you’ll be in danger.”
With a light chide toward the uncomprehending Rishar, Etienne spoke. At the unexpected words, Rishar looked as if he’d been smacked on the back of the head. In his hoarse, low voice, worry could not be hidden.
“Do you still not see how dangerous this is? If I become Emperor, you die.”
“…So, if I don’t want to die, you’re telling me to be Emperor?”
“You know it—why ask?”
“Then what about you? If I become Emperor…”
“At least you won’t die.”
Etienne spoke with firm conviction. Strange as it was, he had long held that belief where Rishar was concerned—that no matter what, he would not betray him.
Even if he was wrong, it was fine. He had something he’d gotten from the Emperor last time. Thinking of the blank imperial pardon, Etienne continued:
“If I ascend the throne, Mother will become the Empress Dowager. Then I’ll likely be an Emperor in name only.”
“It might not be so.”
“How not. You know what she’s like. She isn’t someone who shares what’s hers.”
“…”
At the irrefutable words, Rishar closed his mouth. Like Etienne, he knew well the Empress’s obsession and desire—because he had seen things, growing up alongside Etienne.
Back when he lived in the palace as a poor relation, Rishar had watched Etienne suffer under the Empress’s tyranny and had wished for power to protect him. That wish was unchanged now.
“If Mother takes the Empress Dowager’s seat, House Herace’s power will grow even greater. Then no one will be able to check them.”
Etienne’s face darkened as if a storm cloud passed, imagining the worst future.
“Mother is exceedingly cautious. Someone like her would never leave any element that could threaten her position. She will surely move to eliminate you.”
At Etienne’s certainty, Rishar’s expression turned subtle. Parting his lips, he asked carefully:
“Your Highness… do you dislike the thought of me dying?”
“Yes.”
Without hesitation, Etienne answered. Perhaps because it was unexpected, Rishar’s eyes widened. Etienne tilted his head at the look.
“What? Why are you so surprised?”
“No, it’s just, uh…”
Rarely, Rishar stammered. Uncharacteristically, he scratched his nape, hemming and hawing.
“Hearing you say that—it sounds as if… you’re worried about me.”
“Why? Am I not allowed to worry about you?”
“That’s not it, but…”
You’ve kept pushing me away.
Rishar forced down the words that rose to his throat. He had never desired the throne—but the greatest reason he didn’t want to be Emperor was, without question, Etienne.
“I must have been mistaken.”
Muttering with an abashed face, Rishar spoke. Until now, he had thought Etienne kept his distance because of the matter of the succession—because the situation pointed that way.
But hearing him now, it didn’t seem to be only that.
If Etienne had avoided him and one-sidedly distanced himself not because he was a rival for the throne, but out of worry for his safety—
The thought sent a shiver through him. To keep his expression from crumbling, Rishar pressed strength into the corners of his mouth and took a sip of tea. On the strength of that one fact—that Etienne worried for him—the mood that had scraped bottom soared at once.
“I thought Your Highness disliked me.”
At his frank confession, Etienne gripped his cup tight. Dislike him—nonsense. If anything, he was precious to him.
“I don’t dislike you.”
If anything…
Biting down on his lower lip, Etienne swallowed the rest. To hide the blur in his expression, he lifted the cup to his lips. As if he couldn’t believe it, Rishar asked again:
“You don’t dislike me?”
“…I don’t.”
Rishar’s eyes rounded at Etienne’s answer, then softly crinkled at the corners. It was a bright smile that looked truly happy.
“Ahem.”
For an instant, Etienne forgot himself and stared. He turned his gaze aside and cleared his throat. The chest that had ached only moments ago now tickled as if nothing had happened.
“In any case, I think it best that you become the next Emperor. For your sake, and for mine.”
“Your Highness.”
“To head off a misunderstanding—this isn’t because of His Majesty. It’s a decision I came to alone after thinking on it for a long time.”
Finished, Etienne looked at Rishar with a resolute face. His sky-blue eyes, tinged with a dull light, were clearer than ever.
“I’m sorry it feels like I’m handing you a heavy burden… but I think this is the best direction for everyone. So I want you to consider it seriously, too.”
“Mm.”