Side Story 3

A ray of sunlight leaked through the curtains.

Filled with contentment, Cledwyn slowly opened his eyes. The refreshing, crisp air unique to early summer brushed the tip of his nose. His back, toes, and forehead—spots that had cooled slightly in his sleep—felt chilled, but not cold.

Because there was warmth from the person in his arms.

It was a scent he had longed for—for a very, very long time. Ever since returning from his past memories with Nerys, he had been by her side every moment he could. But the time before that, when all he could do was watch her, had been too long. Even now, he was sometimes afraid.

Afraid his voice wouldn’t reach her.

In truth, he was often afraid.

“Fool.”

Still, holding her like this made him feel at ease. Compared to right after he returned, he was far more stable now. As time passed, the fear would fade, until it was as good as gone.

Just like she, the person who had lived through all of it herself, now slept with such a peaceful smile.

Cledwyn gazed at his wife’s face as she breathed softly, unable to hide the smile that rose when he kissed her forehead.

“I love you today, too.”

Nerys usually opened her eyes around the time sunlight turned this shade of yellow, but today she only let out a small sigh. It was understandable. She hadn’t been asleep for long.

But he had woken up first, hadn’t he? And he was the one who had moved first, even though he had tried to be considerate…

‘I should improve my stamina a bit more.’

His wife was perfect down to every strand of hair. But if he had to name a single flaw, it was this: perhaps because she spent so many hours at her desk, she tired easily. By Cledwyn’s standards, everyone tired easily, but he ignored that.

It would be good to increase the length and frequency of their daily walks. And she needed to exercise more—until she got used to it. It would be difficult at first, but stamina was something that grew slowly as you pushed your limits, wasn’t it?

Today was the day after their wedding ceremony. By convention, the couple should have appeared early in the morning before countless people—starting with the senior members of the groom’s family—to declare the beginning of a new era. But they had already been married for a long time, and Nerys was so exhausted that Cledwyn had no intention of waking her just to observe such useless customs. She might not even be able to speak today.

From the afternoon onward, however, they couldn’t avoid the ceremonies prepared to commemorate the wedding—ordering gold coins distributed to the poorest people in Penmewick, sending letters stamped with the new Emperor’s official seal to every noble in the Bistor Empire. In the evening, there would be a banquet where all the important nobles would gather. He decided she would be fine if she woke around noon.

So Cledwyn quietly enjoyed the moment. After a while, he carefully slipped his arm out, taking great care not to wake his wife.

“Mmm…”

As the warm embrace shifted away, Nerys frowned slightly and mumbled in her sleep. Smiling, Cledwyn pulled the blanket back up over her shoulders.

He got out of bed with as little movement as possible, gathered the clothes scattered on the floor, and dressed. The servant quietly tidying the adjoining room looked at him with wide eyes. Cledwyn shut the door behind him and gave an order.

“Bring the meal. And bring my daughter, too. She’ll be looking for me in the morning.”

There were no foolish “senior members” in Maindulante waiting to receive greetings from the Emperor and Empress, but there was a princess too young to understand adult customs like weddings.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The servant bowed and left. It was around the time Cledwyn had washed and used the grooming tools in his room to make himself presentable.

“Good morning, Your Majesty.”

Duchess Truydd entered holding Arbyone, with Ellen following behind carrying a tray. Cledwyn’s expression brightened the instant he saw the baby, but he spoke politely to his mother-in-law.

“Please, Mother. ‘Son.’”

It was an unconventional request, even by Maindulante’s simple standards. Duchess Truydd hesitated for a moment, then nodded, knowing his personality—once he decided something, he didn’t take it back. A happy smile spread across her face.

“I understand, my precious son. After my husband passed, my family was only Riz for so long. But now I have a son and such a cute granddaughter… the gods have given me a blessing too heavy to hold. Here. This is your daughter, who insisted on seeing you. The moment she opened her eyes, she demanded her mom and dad.”

“She’s quiet for someone who insisted.”

“She went quiet the moment we entered the Imperial Palace. I think she knows her dad is waiting. She’s so smart.”

It was hard to say how much a baby who could barely roll over actually understood, but everyone here already believed without doubt that Princess Arbyone was a genius. They all nodded solemnly as the baby was handed over to her father.

“I love you today, too.”

Cledwyn chuckled as the baby’s tiny hand touched his cheek. Only then did it feel like the day had truly begun.

“I’ll set the meal here, Your Majesty.”

Ellen placed the tray on the table beside Cledwyn’s bed, which had not been used in a long time. Cledwyn was so absorbed in looking at the baby that he only nodded absentmindedly.

What they called the “meal” wasn’t simply food. It was a ritual offering—symbols gathered according to tradition to wish the bride and groom a happy future. Vivid, abundant flowers. A pair of white wooden doves with jewels set into their eyes. A golden sculpture of a wolf couple with several young cubs…

Among the carefully chosen beautiful objects, food that stayed delicious even when cold was arranged neatly—small sandwiches cut to be eaten comfortably in bed, chilled vegetable soup, glossy boiled duck eggs giving off a subtle, appetizing scent.

The meal was meant to be eaten together, so Cledwyn had no intention of eating it alone now. The reason he had it brought early was simple: he didn’t want anyone entering Nerys’s bedroom yet. He still wanted to monopolize their space completely.

Arbyone patted her father’s cheeks, eyelashes, and hair, grabbing at whatever she pleased. Then, satisfied, she smiled. To Cledwyn, her clear eyes and small mouth were radiant as the sun.

After a while, Arbyone returned to her maternal grandmother’s arms and went to see her nanny. Ellen followed with an unusually excited expression. Cledwyn picked up the tray and went back to his wife’s bedroom.

Perhaps sensing someone in the quiet room, Nerys stirred once. Cledwyn set the tray on the table beside her bed and drew the curtains closed.

He slipped back into bed and wrapped her into his arms again, returning them to how they had been. Nerys seemed to wake for a moment and opened her eyes faintly. Cledwyn hugged her close and kissed her forehead several times.

“Is it time to wake up…?”

“It’s dark. There’s still time before you need to get up. Sleep more.”

If she’d been fully awake, Nerys would have questioned those words at least once. Instead, she drifted right back to sleep. Thinking about what to feed her when she woke, Cledwyn soon followed her into dreamland.

❖ ❖ ❖

“It was foolish of me to believe you.”

In the end, Nerys woke around noon with the suspicion, ‘Why do I feel so refreshed?’ and was mildly annoyed to discover her husband had lied.

Still, they ate the meal together in bed. She didn’t fall for his excuse that “this is Maindulante tradition,” but she let him feed her anyway. Thanks to that, Cledwyn enjoyed an unhurried morning with his wife until the moment their official awakening could no longer be delayed.

As soon as the couple officially rose, bathwater, clothes, and jewelry were carried into the Emperor’s and Empress’s bedrooms, respectively. Arbyone, who had been playing and sleeping with her nanny all morning, wanted to see her mom, so the baby came in with the nanny. Nerys was so busy cooing at the baby and holding her while getting ready for the afternoon schedule that she was completely dazed.

Cledwyn finished preparing first and took the baby away so his wife could have a proper massage before putting on the Empress’s ceremonial robes. Carrying Arbyone in his arms, he stepped out toward the office, where the officials waiting outside greeted him with bright faces.

“Congratulations, Your Majesty.”

“Princess Arbyone is like an angel today, too.”

Cledwyn only nodded at their congratulations, but he was clearly pleased when they praised Arbyone. Those with sharp eyes noticed immediately and showered the baby with a hundred more compliments.

Rex Bronson, the Prime Minister, stood at the very front holding documents himself. With a deeply moved expression, he opened the office door.

Cledwyn entered and sat at his desk. It was the new Emperor’s first official duty.

The nanny, who had naturally followed, began to reach for Arbyone. It wouldn’t do for the baby to remain in the Emperor’s arms while he worked. But Cledwyn gestured for her to stop and signaled Rex to begin the report.

For a brief moment, intense gazes crossed in the office. But the conclusion had been decided from the start. Who could refuse an order from Cledwyn Maindulante?

In the end, Rex personally turned each page of the documents and explained them one by one for the Emperor, whose arms were occupied.

“The list of those in need of relief has been reconfirmed, and there are no issues. Lower-ranking officials will depart to deliver the gold coins at the same time the two of you step onto the balcony this afternoon to show yourselves to the people. Preparations for the banquet are also proceeding smoothly. It has been confirmed that all nobles who received invitations are scheduled to attend without issue.”

“I see. You also reviewed the wording of the letters that will be sent out today?”

“Yes. I marked them correctly with the new national name that will be applied from today.”

A country’s name and the ruling family’s surname often matched, but not always. For example, the descendants of Bistor used Bistor as their surname, and the name of the empire had been the Bistor Empire. It meant “of Bistor,” and it was likely chosen as something more majestic than a family name that would inevitably lose its mystique the more it was used. It was also a boast that the empire would remain in their bloodline forever.

In the smaller countries surrounding the Bistor Empire, national names were even more varied. Some nations that had changed dynasties still used the name of the founding royal family. Some republics used values their people held dear as the country’s name.

Since the name Bistor could no longer remain, several meetings were convened to decide a new national name. Most assumed Maindulante would become the national name, but that proposal was rejected. The reason was that Maindulante had a clear origin, so it was more appropriate to leave it as the place name for this region—the northern part of the Illopium Mountains.

So after people searched dictionaries, tore at their hair, and shouted themselves hoarse, the new national name that would take effect from today was finally created.

‘Amiteria.’

A name formed by combining the Verlaine Language word for friendship and the Verlaine Language word for land. It meant the friendship between the two of the Three Heroes who had died unjustly and the dragon. And it also meant the friendship between the newly established Imperial Family and the people.

It had been Nerys who first suggested that the new national name should include the word friendship. It was an idea that suited her. Friendship was affection shared beyond bloodlines—recognition offered even to someone standing at the edge of a cliff with nothing left.

Cledwyn nodded in satisfaction.

“The wording is well written. All that’s left is to stamp the seal properly and send them. Every noble in the Bistor Empire is a recipient, so there will be many difficulties—especially in delivering to the lower-ranking nobles. I trust you will handle it meticulously.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Ah, this page here concerns the special surveillance targets designated by Your Majesty.”

The “special surveillance targets” Rex mentioned covered a wide range—survivors among the collateral lines of the Bistor Imperial family, those who had remained ambiguous throughout this war, and… those connected to Nerys’s previous life.

Cledwyn scanned the items in the report with indifferent eyes. Most were minor developments, nothing surprising. But one line caught his attention.

“Eustace Grünehals is dead.”