The Empire’s Flower (1)
The gallery notebook was such an intriguing item that Seris found herself drawn to it for the rest of the day.
Every so often, her eyes searched for where Vergil would place it.
On a shelf, beside him, or under his hand, only for him to wordlessly move it somewhere else the moment she so much as leaned in its direction.
By nightfall, Vergil had grown annoyingly strict about her access to it.
So, naturally, Seris resolved to obtain it without him knowing.
The cabin fell quiet. The fireplace crackled. Vergil, exhausted from the day, lay asleep on the couch.
And the ever sneaky Seris began her operation.
Silent as snowfall, she tiptoed across the room before approaching him slowly.
She was certain the notebook would be somewhere nearby, perhaps dropped on the floor… or left on the table… or—
“.....!”
Her eyes widened.
There it was.
Clutched tightly against his chest like a cherished treasure, as if Vergil had anticipated her every intention.
Seris stared at him, stunned and offended all at once.
“…You cunning human.”
He moved slightly in his sleep, tightening his grip even further.
Seris’s fingers twitched with indignation, her eyes narrowing with burning determination.
“Fine.”
If he wished to guard it, then she would simply outwit him.
She lowered herself slowly and carefully until she inched right over the slumbering human.
The notebook was tucked against his chest and protected by his arm.
Seris reached for it. Her fingertips finally brushed against the leather cover.
Almost…
Just a little more…
Her fingers slipped under his arm. She gently pulled the notebook upward.
“......”
And in that instant, Vergil moved.
His arm went up and wrapped firmly around her.
Seris froze as he pulled her straight into his chest with surprising strength, pinning her in place, while the notebook stayed exactly where it was.
“Mm… don’t…”
Vergil muttered half-asleep as his hold on her tightened.
Seris’s eyes went wide.
For reasons she couldn’t comprehend, she couldn’t pry his arm away, even though she possessed far more strength than any human.
Her mind fell into a strange haze, muddled by the unexpected skinship.
Never in her life had she been held like this, except by her own mother.
But even so, the warmth exuding from this man was foreign and entirely too much for someone of her upbringing.
The face of an Ice Dragon burned hotter than the hot cocoa she liked so much.
The indignity alone should have made her lash out.
But instead, her thoughts scattered like snow in the wind.
She tried once more to free herself, but the moment she pushed, he pulled her even closer.
Seris shut her eyes tight, wishing the night would swallow her whole.
This was humiliating.
And yet, she couldn’t move at all.
“......”
Enough pretenses.
Whatever haze had taken hold of her, she refused to let it control her.
With great effort, Seris slipped her hands between his arms and pried them apart inch by inch.
Once she freed herself, she snatched the notebook from his chest.
Without sparing him another glance, she retreated to the bed with the stealth of a thief, pulling the blanket over her head as if hiding the scene would erase the embarrassment burning across her face.
Ridiculous. Completely ridiculous.
But at least the notebook was finally in her hands.
Seris opened the notebook. As long as she followed Vergil’s rules, he wouldn’t be too angry.
He had been very clear.
——Never, under any circumstances, are you to reveal your true name or anything remotely personal.
‘I’m not that stupid.’
She had almost done exactly that, but that was Seris from nine hours ago.
A completely different, far less enlightened dragon.
——Never mention your surroundings or locations, and above all, maintain absolute anonymity.
‘What do you think I am?’
She had also nearly blurted that out. Perhaps enlightenment came slowly.
——If possible, pretend to be someone entirely different.
This part was obvious.
It was, in fact, the only instruction Seris had genuinely followed before he even mentioned it.
Seris dipped her quill into the ink, fully prepared to begin writing, when a shadow suddenly loomed behind her.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Eeeek!”
The quill nearly slipped from her fingers as she jolted upright, clutching the notebook to her chest like a guilty child caught stealing sweets.
“N-Nothing!”
Vergil stared at her, then at the notebook, then back at her again, before letting out a sigh.
“Two hours.”
“Ah?”
“I’m limiting your usage to two hours a day. Since it’s already midnight, this counts as tomorrow’s allowance. If you use them all now, you won’t get to touch it again for the rest of the day.”
Seris’s mouth fell open.
“V-Vergil, you can’t be serious… right?”
“I am.”
“I-I won’t make any mistakes… I’ve matured since then…”
“You screamed ‘Eeeek’ when I spoke.”
“This is tyranny!”
* * *
The Human Empire was located at the very center of all the great racial territories, and because of this, it naturally became the focal point of trade.
Caravans passed through its borders in every season.
Its roads, paved during the reign of the First Emperor, linked kingdoms and tribes that otherwise would have remained isolated.
Merchants often remarked that if one waited long enough in the Human Empire’s capital, they would eventually meet every race under the sun.
Elves seeking rare metals. Dwarves transporting enchanted forges. Beastkin carrying medicinal herbs. Even Dragonoids walked the Imperial markets in broad daylight.
The Empire prospered because of this constant exchange.
But prosperity also bred danger.
Every race had a stake in the Empire’s stability, and every race eyed its wealth.
Because it was at the world’s center, the Human Empire was both the most protected and the most threatened nation.
Princess Anneliese Sibylle von Friedeberg, the Empire’s beloved treasure, woke to the gentle sound of birds outside her window.
A soft warmth seemed to radiate around her the moment her eyes opened, as if the morning itself acknowledged she was finally awake.
She rose from her pillows without a single strand of hair out of place, without drool on her lips, without so much as a trace of sleep on her face.
Even in her most unguarded moments, she appeared utterly immaculate.
“Good morning, Princess.”
Anneliese turned her head to see her maid standing primly beside the bed.
“Good morning, Ivette. How many times must I tell you there’s no need to stand there and wait for me to wake up?”
Ivette dipped her head, unbothered by the reprimand she had heard countless times before.
“It is my duty, Princess.”
Anneliese walked out of bed as sunlight spilled across the floorboards.
The morning breeze blew through the curtains, bringing with it the scent of flowers from the imperial gardens.
She stretched her arms, then glanced back at her attendant.
“Ivette, truly, you could rest a little longer. I always wake up on my own.”
“That may be so. But it brings me peace of mind to be here when you do.”
Anneliese could only sigh again, though the corners of her lips pulled up.
“Very well. What’s on my schedule today?”
“About that, Princess… your soon-to-be fiancé, Lord Noah Johannes von Liebert of the Liebert Duchy, has arrived to have breakfast with you.”
“…Already?”
“Yes, Princess. He came earlier than expected. He’s waiting in the eastern dining hall.”
A sigh escaped her lips as she moved toward the vanity where Ivette was already arranging the brushes and ribbons.
The sunlight caught her reflection, illuminating her features with a serene glow.
She reached for a comb, though Ivette took it from her hands, guiding her to sit instead before combing her golden blonde hair.
Anneliese allowed her.
“I had hoped for a quieter morning. A simple breakfast. Maybe a walk through the gardens.”
“You may still have those, Princess. After breakfast.”
“That depends entirely on him, doesn’t it? Is he in good spirits?”
“He seemed… enthusiastic.”
Anneliese closed her eyes for a moment as Ivette pinned her hair into place.
“Enthusiastic. That usually means I will need extra patience today.”
“I believe you have more than enough patience for the entire Empire, Princess.”
“I wish I didn’t. Well then… let’s not keep Lord Noah waiting.”
* * *
Under the shade of the gazebo, Noah Johannes von Liebert enjoyed a quiet morning breakfast with his soon-to-be fiancée, Princess Anneliese.
Anneliese smiled kindly.
“I am glad you could make time, Lord Noah. I hear your family has been rather occupied these days.”
“Nothing could possibly be more important than this, Princess.”
Anneliese merely folded her hands neatly on her lap.
She already understood why he spoke with such certainty.
These days, the Imperial Family was on increasingly unstable ground due to political turmoil within and beyond their borders.
It was only natural that they turned their attention to the Liebert Duchy, the noble house with the strongest and most enduring ties to the Dragon Empire.
Strengthening that bond through marriage would secure the Empire’s standing among the other races.
To Anneliese, it was less a romantic proposal and more an expected duty.
For what it was worth, Noah was objectively handsome. Any other young lady might have found him charming.
But even the most breathtaking flower field lost its brilliance after enough seasons.
Her eyes, accustomed to endless suitors offering poetry, did not move in the slightest.
No matter how flawless the man before her appeared, she had long grown immune to such surface-level beauty.
“How is the meal, Lord Noah? I’m unsure if it suits your palate.”
“It is excellent, Princess. Anything shared with you naturally tastes better.”
“Then I’m relieved. The palace kitchens worry endlessly about guests of your standing. They believe every dish must match the dignity of the Liebert name.”
“I assure you, the honor lies in simply being invited. Sharing a table with the Empire’s flower is more than enough.”
“Oh, my. You flatter me.”
Anneliese lowered her gaze, letting her eyes turn toward the bouquet resting beside her plate.
A cluster of moonlilies and soft silver asters, arranged with care.
Their soft glow under the morning sun looked almost ethereal.
“......”
These were the flowers she actually liked.
Which was strange, considering the entire Empire believed her favorite was the crimson serenata, a misconception from one careless remark she made as a child.
Ever since then, nobles showered her with nothing but red serenatas.
But this bouquet… moonlilies and silver asters.
The combination she truly preferred that only her maid, Ivette, was aware of.
However, Ivette wasn’t the type to divulge such information.
It had to be a coincidence.
