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In the midst of a returning calm in our daily lives, news suddenly came to light just as the snow started falling thick on all lands except for the northern region.

“Is the Emperor in critical condition?”

Upon hearing the news from someone sent to the Imperial Palace, Yulken sprang up from his seat. It was quite unexpected as I hadn’t heard anything like it when Ariel returned from the palace, making it feel particularly sudden.

“That’s right.”

“Has he caught some illness or what…? What on earth…?”

Helene, who was sitting next to him, was equally shocked by the unexpected news and peppered the messenger with questions to understand the details.

“I’m not sure about that, but it’s certain that he doesn’t look well and there have been several reports of him coughing up blood.”

“How old is the Emperor this year?”

“I believe he’s fifty-one.”

That’s not particularly old. Considering that most of the previous emperors lived into their eighties in good health, his decline is quite unprecedentedly early.

“Dear, it would be best if you went to the Imperial Palace with Ariel…”

Hearing this, Helene looked at Yulken with worried eyes and asked if they should go visit, since Ariel is currently the head of the family and should naturally accompany him.

“…For now, it seems we should wait and see. If he really is in such critical condition, the palace will surely contact us.”

However, Yulken exhibited a somewhat puzzled reaction. Before being a ruler, he was once a close friend from his childhood. While he knew that he should go, for some reason his heart raced, and his feet were reluctant to move.

‘This is strange.’

Yulken had felt this sensation a long time ago. After inheriting head of the family responsibilities, he had been engaged in battles with foreign tribes near the extreme north, and at a moment when he could have fallen for the enemy’s trick, he felt this same sensation and turned back.

In other words, his instinct, which had been dormant at the back of his mind, had recognized the danger before his rational thoughts.

Since then, Yulken had learned to trust his instincts.

“Reginard.”

“Yes!”

Calming his thumping heart, he sat back down and called out to his subordinate, who had bowed his head.

“First, head back to the Imperial Palace. Determine as accurately as possible whether this news is true, and bring back only the precise information.”

“That means…”

There is no one foolish enough to spread false news about the emperor’s condition. However, if someone wanted to, they surely wouldn’t have good intentions.

As Reginard tried to cautiously voice his thoughts, Yulken, having read his mind, shook his head with a bitter smile.

“No, it’s probably just my worries. Don’t pay too much mind to it.”

“If that’s the case… understood. I’ll take my time and return with only the most certain information.”

“Yes, I’m counting on you.”

As Reginard received his orders and quickly disappeared, Yulken gazed at the spot where he had vanished, subconsciously casting his eyes outside the window.

Noticing something from his actions, Helene gently approached him and placed her hands over his left hand, stroking it softly.

“Dear, everything will be alright. You’re such a strong person.”

“…I guess it showed too much, huh?”

“Hehe, while others might not realize, there’s no escaping my eyes.”

Having spent years together, Helene could see through him. Despite trying to act composed, his concern for the distant lord and childhood friend was evident.

“You’re right. I just hope that being strong doesn’t become a burden…”

“Do you sense something off?”

With a shake of his head from left to right, Yulken denied it just once, still holding his gaze outside and responding in a low voice.

“Nothing of the sort. That’s why it feels more unsettling.”

Nothing is more unsettling than an unpredictable future. A small clue would be welcome, but Yulken knew that wishing for that was a pipe dream.

For now, he could only hope that nothing would happen and just do what he needed to do in his position.

Nothing more than that.

* * * * * * *

Cough. Cough.

The dry cough filled the lavishly decorated room. The source of the sound was none other than Bartheus.

His bedridden form looked visibly unwell to anyone who laid eyes on him.

“Your Majesty, please! Call for the physician…”

A man beside him, watching the scene, earnestly suggested with a sorrowful expression. Just stepping foot in the emperor’s chamber indicates how much trust he had earned as a confidant.

“…No, it’s fine. I’m not in a state that a doctor could remedy, so don’t worry about it.”

“But…”

“Enough of that.”

Though his tone was somewhat cold, there was an undercurrent of consideration in it meant to keep his subordinate from worrying about him.

The man understood this, biting his lips and blaming himself for being unable to come up with any solution.

“More importantly, Abel, what about the task I assigned you?”

“Yes. As ordered, I investigated, and it seems there are rumors of people disappearing in some shabby villages to the southeast.”

Bang!

At hearing his trusted confidant’s words, Bartheus slammed his fist onto the bed, grinding his teeth.

When rumors spread, it was already suspected. There could only be one person notorious enough to be associated with such deeds.

However, the most regretful part was that even if he knew, there was nothing he could do about it.

“Your Majesty, are you alright?”

“…Yes. I’m not feeling well, so it seems my emotions are surfacing. Don’t mind it.”

Even though he was Bartheus’s confidant, the emperor couldn’t share the reasons for his anger with him.

He thought this chamber to be safe from prying eyes, but in the world, there exists that ‘one in a million.’

As long as that one exists, he couldn’t even twitch his lips regarding the current situation.

At most, he could slightly disrupt the gravity of a tragedy shortly before it might happen.

Just like when his long-time friend’s daughter and her lover visited the palace recently.

The title of emperor was so pathetic compared to the harsh reality, but what could be done?

The tragedies left by his predecessors always continued onto the next generation.

And he too would fulfill his term, eventually being remembered in the annals of history as a foolish ruler.

“Were there any contacts from the Robeheim Family?”

“No, there were none.”

“That’s a relief. Do your best to ensure that news of our situation doesn’t reach their ears.”

Bartheus vividly remembered the conversation he had shared with that person previously.

For whatever reason, it seemed that the current head of the Robeheim Family and her spouse were sorely seen as thorns in his side.

Given his personality, he rarely ever said things like “I just wanted to see your face once.”

Especially not in any positive way at all. Those who heard it upfront could consider themselves lucky if they didn’t end up missing a head by the next day by the riverside.

Thus, Bartheus had wanted to send them away as soon as possible when they visited the palace, but he couldn’t do it because he was wary of Albrecht’s gaze.

Fortunately, she resembled her father and didn’t settle in the palace, heading elsewhere instead, which allowed him to breathe a little easier.

However, he couldn’t guarantee that no one would reach out with malicious intent the next time.

Moreover, if that person were to consider Ariel, the current head of the family, as a true thorn, who could tell how far his hand might reach?

Should he hear the news of Bartheus’s critical condition this time, Yulken or Ariel would surely come to the palace again.

That had to be prevented at all costs.

‘He’s been unusually pro-active lately. I wonder if there’s a reason behind it.’

Originally, he was a figure who rarely revealed himself in front of others and, even if he did, had no emotions to read at all.

Recently, however, his movements had become so bizarre, it was impossible not to take notice even if one wished to remain oblivious.

To Bartheus, it was like watching a child bursting with joy over a long-sought-after toy, unable to control his emotions.

‘Complicated.’

While he knew everything there was to know about himself, not knowing anything about that person was perhaps the most unfortunate thing for Bartheus.

Just like a bird trapped in a cage, sitting here without knowing anything about those others’ intentions, having to spend time in such helplessness.

‘Is there really no way to change things?’

A curse inherited from ancestors who didn’t want to lose wealth and power, and a product created by the hand of a malicious sorcerer, was the miserable reality he faced.

From the moment he inherited this curse, Bartheus had vowed to change the future, but now the darkness was so overbearing he couldn’t even realize if he was opening his eyes.

Perhaps, the past emperors rolled about in their helplessness and ultimately gave up everything just like this.

Sometimes, a miserable reality could shake even one’s values.

‘Still, I have to struggle.’

For now, without letting go of the thread of hope, he wanted to resist fate just a little longer.

Even if the world were to collapse tomorrow, it is human nature to devise plans and resist destiny.

He wasn’t too different in that regard.

“…That’s enough for now. You should head back, Abel.”

“Planning to sleep early, I see.”

“Yeah. I’m not feeling well, so sleep is the best remedy.”

“Yes. I sincerely wish for your recovery.”

To the devoted confidant, whose sincerity was uncertain, Bartheus could only offer a bitter smile.

Soon after, the door closed, and his eyelids followed suit.

Amidst the flood of exhaustion, Bartheus felt as if he heard someone’s voice.

If it was the voice of a savior, that would be wonderful, he thought, as he drifted into sleep.