Wednesday morning, exactly seven days before the Empire’s social season was to begin.
Not only the imperial palace, but the entire capital had been bustling since morning with preparations to receive the nobles who would come flooding in next week.
New, splendid red carpets had been laid in every corridor, and the attendants were rushing about without pause, polishing silverware and replacing the magic stones in the banquet hall chandeliers.
I walked through the gallery with Amber, taking in the busy scene.
“Sir White, if people are coming from all over the Empire, won’t there be no room in the palace? Are there any special qualifications for attending the social gathering?”
“The Empire’s social season is, fundamentally, quite open. Anyone with a noble title and their families, as well as commoners who have received permission to attend, may participate. Usually, they are people who have rendered some service.”
Amber answered casually as she deftly avoided the attendants carrying large flowerpots.
“On the day of the gathering, the entire imperial palace is opened, and banquets are held in the courtyard and outdoor gardens as well.”
“Oh…”
“However, the people Your Highness is asking about—the ones who are strictly screened and filtered—will all gather in the main hall inside the imperial palace building.”
“So there’s some kind of list, I suppose?”
“There is. First, the Imperial Household Bureau draws up the list very meticulously. Those who have fallen out of favor, or those with poor conduct and unsavory reputations, are mercilessly excluded. Once the list is drawn up, His Majesty the Emperor and His Highness the Crown Prince review it, and it is finalized after their final approval.”
“Then even a fairly powerful noble might fail to enter the main hall and end up lingering outside?”
“Every so often, someone like that appears. It’s a very strong warning.”
Amber grinned and made a gesture of slitting her throat.
“It means one of two things. Either their loyalty to the imperial family is under suspicion, or they have seriously fallen out of favor because of grave issues with their behavior, conduct, or past actions.”
“…As expected, the imperial palace’s social circles are no easy place.”
“What was it like in the Kingdom of Sterling?”
“For us, if you were a noble, you were accepted. As you know, we’re a small kingdom.”
Come to think of it, this would be my first proper social gathering too.
The thought of having my debutante(?) made my head throb a little.
But for today, I decided to set aside thoughts of that troublesome social world.
Because every Wednesday, without fail, was the day I met the ruler of this vast Empire—the Emperor.
#
‘I think I could find my way here alone by now.’
The imperial palace conservatory, which I had entered today as always under the guidance of a palace attendant.
Ordinarily, the Emperor would have greeted me while sitting at the round tea table in the center of the conservatory, drinking tea. Today, however, instead of sitting and preparing tea, he was standing before the plants.
Behind the Emperor, who was even humming lightly as he held a large pair of gardening shears and personally tended to the shrubs throughout the conservatory, I bowed politely.
“Your Majesty, Ian Sterling is here.”
“Oh, Ian. Come in.”
When I approached and bowed respectfully, the Emperor stopped clipping and, with practiced ease, brushed away the withered leaves as a smile appeared on his face.
“For a while, I raised mostly roses because I wanted to enjoy their scent, but even a pleasant fragrance grows tiresome if you smell it for too long. So I was taking this opportunity to bring in some new plants and change the overall aesthetic and atmosphere of the conservatory.”
“Perhaps because Your Majesty’s touch has reached them, the flowers look even more lively.”
“Haha, how pleasant to hear. By the way, as I was trimming them, a bit of space opened up over here. There’s room to plant one small flowering tree… Do you, by any chance, like flowers?”
At the Emperor’s sudden question, I rubbed my chin for a moment in thought, then answered with a slight smile on my lips.
“Yes, Your Majesty. There are exactly two flowers I like.”
“Oh, two. What is the first?”
“Golden osmanthus.”
“Golden osmanthus.”
The Emperor raised one eyebrow as though intrigued.
“A tree that blooms with orange flowers in autumn. It grows only in the south, your homeland.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“Hmm. And why do you like it?”
“Do you know another name for golden osmanthus?”
“I wonder. Did it have another name?”
“It is also called Ten-Thousand-Li Fragrance. It earned that name because its sweet scent is said to travel ten thousand li.”
“Oh. Wait, li? What is a li?”
“Er… It is an old unit of measurement. Converted, it is about four hundred meters. It is not used much these days.”
“That is a relief. If the southern region were using yet another unit, would Maximilien not be clutching his head?”
Watching the Emperor chuckle at his own remark as if he found it funny, I continued.
“…The reason I like this flower is partly because it smells nice and because the small tree has a comforting look to it, but also because I wish to become a fragrant person to those around me, like the scent of that Ten-Thousand-Li Fragrance. And more than anything, I often think I would like to live according to that flower’s meaning.”
The language of the golden osmanthus was humility.
Though I was receiving affection and attention from the imperial family far beyond my station, this was my own attempt at flattery, saying that I would never forget my place and would live humbly.
“Hmm.”
The Emperor set down the shears and gazed steadily at me.
A deep, unusual gleam settled in his violet eyes.
At length, the Emperor nodded deeply, looking pleased.
“…Yes, indeed. Your intention comes across very well.”
‘It worked.’
I let out a sigh of relief. The Emperor smiled again and asked,
“Then what is the second flower you like?”
“Salvia, Your Majesty.”
“Salvia. A vivid red flower. And why do you like that one? Do you wish to have a love that burns like the meaning of the salvia?”
“Th-that, hmm… It is a somewhat embarrassing reason.”
“What sort of reason makes you say that?”
“Well, if you pluck a salvia flower and lightly suck on the end, it tastes like honey. That is why I like it.”
“…?”
The Emperor stared at me as though dumbfounded, then burst into hearty laughter a moment later.
It was the most refreshing laugh I had heard from him since we had met.
“Ahahahaha!! Not for any other reason, but because honey comes out when you suck on it! Are you serious?”
“How could I speak falsehood to Your Majesty?”
“Ahahaha, yes, yes… Well, that can happen.”
The Emperor, now in an excellent mood, cheerfully finished trimming the remaining flowers and returned to the table in the center.
We sat facing each other and shared fragrant tea in an atmosphere far softer than usual.
After some light small talk about the approaching social season, I left the conservatory with very satisfied steps.
A little while after Ian had left the conservatory first.
“Let us go, Sir.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
As the Emperor put on his outer garment and came out of the conservatory, the Emperor’s aide, who had been waiting outside the door, approached like a shadow and fell in behind him.
After walking leisurely down the corridor for a few steps, the Emperor, still unable to wipe the faint smile from his lips, tossed a question to his aide.
“Sir. Shall I tell you a very funny story about that Ian fellow who just left?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Please command me.”
“He named golden osmanthus as his favorite plant.”
“Golden osmanthus, you say?”
“Yes. But tell me, Sir, do you happen to know the meaning of the golden osmanthus in the language of flowers?”
“Forgive me, but my knowledge of plants is shallow, so I do not know.”
At the aide’s answer, the Emperor laughed again as though he could not hold it in and said,
“To captivate your heart.”
“…Pardon?”
“That is the meaning of golden osmanthus. He said he wanted to live like the golden osmanthus, fragrant and captivating everyone he met. How could it not be amusing? It is not as if he merely says so—he actually lives that way.”
The Emperor, looking extremely amused, patted the aide’s shoulder as he walked down the corridor.
“My children all have quite the temper, don’t they?”
“A temper, Your Majesty? It is the quality of the imperial bloodline. Since the flames of Argenheim flow through their veins, is it not only natural?”
“Yes, whatever it is, they are foul-tempered and difficult fellows. And yet that one appeared and is captivating them all. Two sons and even two daughters—man or woman, he gets along with them all. How could I not find it curious?”
“…At that point, should Prince Ian not be considered a flatterer?”
“If he crosses the line here and begins demanding something, then yes. But from what I see, that fellow is clever. He knows that line well. He merely receives goodwill and shows an attitude befitting it; he never crosses the line first. That is why I approved it when Max said he wanted to bring him in and put him to work.”
“It seems Your Majesty is very fond of him.”
“Fond does not even begin to cover it. I feel I will be seeing him for quite some time. I do not want to send him back.”
The Emperor headed to his office, happily talking about Ian for a while.
After escorting him to the front of the office, the aide gently placed a hand on his gold-rimmed monocle the moment the Emperor disappeared from view.
“…Ian Sterling.”
A fox-like fellow who had captivated the hearts of the imperial family.
Thinking that he ought to look into that man a little more deeply, Count Grey, the imperial chief aide, smiled coldly.