SBTMK Chapter 10

Flora got to the point.

"So—could I go out for a walk? Being in this room all day is stifling."

"Hmm... your shoulder would still hurt with even a little walking."

"If I don't push myself..."

"What if you held on just a few more days, Lady? If your condition worsens, I think I'd be quite sad."

"Oh..."

She knew very well the care Eden had been putting in, morning and evening.

A few more days wasn't beyond her—but she felt unreasonably put out, and when she dropped her gaze, Eden said:

"Someone you care for being ill is a sad thing. I want to see you healthy now."

Flora held her breath.

He'd said such a lovely thing to mean it wasn't too late to go out after she'd fully healed.

The sulkiness vanished all at once. His warmth was innate, that was certain.

"...Yes. I'll get better quickly!"

Eden smiled that clear, pleased smile again.

Ah. She thought about it every day, but she was glad she'd stayed. Haenkan's benefits truly were the best.

After lunch, Flora stood at the window and looked down at the palace garden. Pink flowers bloomed in such abundance that she could look at them for a long time and never grow tired.

She had once believed that this kind of comfort had no place in her life.

It still felt like a luxury, even now.

"Flora."

She was just being pulled under by dark memory. Someone called her name—not Lugaria's voice.

She had been so lost in thought she hadn't even noticed anyone enter the room. She spun around in surprise.

"What were you thinking about? You didn't notice someone come in at all."

"Oh..."

How long had it been. Ten days? The moment she saw him, she felt as if the world had paused.

Her mind knew she should greet him. The words wouldn't come. Her lips didn't move.

Simen Izenerus. Emperor of Haenkan. His amber pupils, sparkling like gems, still held that same bewitching quality—the kind that made it difficult to look away.

"...Your Majesty. When did you arrive?"

"Just now."

He had come within a hand's span of her before she registered the distance. Surprised, she stepped back—and Simen grinned.

"You looked half-dead before. Now you're at least presentable. Have you been resting well?"

"Yes. Thanks to Your Majesty's grace."

Flora composed herself and lowered her gaze. She'd stepped back, but the distance between them was still close. Even breathing felt like something to be conscious of.

Simen studied her in silence for a long moment.

"Your manner has suddenly become very formal. Have you forgotten my name, after all this time?"

"I am now Your Majesty's subject. I cannot call Your Majesty's name so casually."

"That's rather a disappointing thing to say. It makes me wonder if I was wrong to ask you to stay."

Simen bent slightly at the waist to meet her eyes. The window frame was already pressing against her back—Flora had nowhere left to retreat.

Looking into those eyes, all of her senses seemed to burn. She couldn't have explained it. But she was, somehow, in a difficult position.

"Since I've permitted it, there's no issue. When we're alone, just call me by name. We need to get to know each other better, don't we."

"But—!"

"Otherwise I'll go around calling you Pretty One from now on. I'll chase you through the entire palace every day so everyone can hear, and make your life very difficult."

'What kind of unreasonable—'

Flora looked up and met his eyes. The cocky grin made him look exactly like a child. Which made her all the more uneasy. Somehow she was certain that Simen would actually do it.

"Simen."

"Yes. Flora."

Flora decided to yield, before a complete catastrophe.

Once she'd recovered and been assigned to a knighthood, there would be no occasion to meet Simen alone. He was the sun of the empire. She would be nothing more than a knight.

'...Just a little while is fine.'

She could keep a small memory of having once called the emperor by his name, familiarly. It wasn't a bad trade.

Since it had come to this—she should make a point of using his name as often as possible.

Simen, having gotten what he wanted, was in good spirits. He reached his hand toward her. His fingers grazed her long silver hair lightly before pulling away.

"But why are you still in your nightclothes? Did you just wake up?"

"No. I only have this to wear."

"..."

"It seems the maid may have thrown away the clothes I came in—I can't find them anywhere."

"So you've been in this state during the healings? Every day?"

"Yes."

Simen's face went disagreeable in a way that was hard to miss.

"...Absolutely maddening."

He was thinking of that creepy thing Eden had said.

'Ah—she's so adorable. Like a rabbit.'

"I did ask the maid if she could find some training clothes, but there's been no word yet. When something suitable arrives I'll dress properly."

"That's not the issue."

Simen started to speak and stopped. Flora looked up at him with curious eyes.

"Is it possible you thought the healer was a woman because of his face?"

"Pardon?"

"He's a man."

"I know."

"You knew?"

"Yes. Is there some problem—"

Simen furrowed his brow and raised his hand. His long white fingers flicked her forehead with a light tap.

"You're careless."

She blinked, bewildered, mouth open.

Careless? Where, exactly?

"Did I... do something wrong?"

"I won't tell you."

He wasn't going to tell her. She felt, somehow, aggrieved.

And to the end, Simen never did explain where or how she'd been careless.

"Come here."

He seemed to want to change the subject—he took Flora's hand and led her toward the wardrobe.

"I think you've been misunderstanding something."

"...Pardon?"

He opened the wardrobe door without much explanation. Inside hung about ten high-quality dresses of the kind that young noblewomen might wear. She'd admired them with wide eyes just a few days ago.

"You said you had no clothes. What are all of these? I had them prepared because I thought they'd suit you."

"These are... all mine?"

"Yes."

She hadn't known they were hers.

She'd practically drooled over them when she first saw them—but out of worry that the expensive fabric might get damaged, she'd put them back carefully without trying a single one on.

When the maid had asked if she'd like to change into a dress, she'd naturally refused in alarm.

"Didn't the maid tell you?"

"...I said I wouldn't change."

"Why?"

"I didn't know they were mine."

She had assumed they were spare dresses laid out for guests, or for princesses, or royalty staying at the palace. Of course—each young lady had different measurements, and they weren't the sort of people who shared clothing. Why she hadn't thought it through that far, she couldn't say.

"But..."

"Yes?"

"These dresses are uncomfortable to move in. And they don't seem appropriate for someone in my position."

She had worn dresses before, working as a spy. She knew very well how difficult it was to move in clothes this beautiful.

And...

'Thinks she's nobility just because she's wearing a dress, does she? Insufferable.'

'Well, she gives herself to both Ayden and the lord—what can you expect. I hate to admit it, but she can't help being favored.'

'Then she should stay cooped up in the back rooms acting high and mighty, not play at being a knight—it's revolting.'

'She wants to show off how different she is from the rest of us. And she doesn't even know how shameless she looks.'

These clothes weren't suited to someone like her. Even if she'd known from the start that Simen had prepared them for her, she wouldn't have worn them.

Dresses, for her, were only ever a fantasy. A luxury without a home.

Flora's expression had darkened visibly. Simen, registering it, let his own gaze go briefly deep.

"Well. It can't be helped. Then there's nothing to do but stay in this room until training clothes arrive."

He shrugged as he said it. His expression had already settled back to its usual state.

"I need to go to training now. I thought I'd let you watch the training ground in case you were feeling cooped up—but it can't be helped now."

"The training ground?"

Flora came back to herself. He had landed on the exact thing she wanted most. And looking again, he was dressed in training clothes—practical, easy to move in.

"Yes. But you said you didn't want to wear a dress. Nothing to be done."

Flora wouldn't have minded going out in nightclothes, but she had to keep up appearances for Simen's sake, since he'd been the one to bring her here. And to keep idle rumors from circulating...

"I said it was uncomfortable to move in. I never said I didn't want to wear one."

"Didn't you say it wasn't suited to your position?"

"...W-well, but—since Simen gave them as a gift. Shall I try one on?"

Ugh. Something felt groveling about that. To think her resolve could shift so easily for the sake of one outing. A woman as fickle as a reed.

Flora was too embarrassed to meet Simen's eyes.

"Then want to try one? Shall we go?"

"Yes."

'I threw the bait out, and you swallowed it.'

"Let's go with this one. It'll suit you."

Simen smiled lightly and held out the dress he'd already chosen—a blue one that shimmered as if scattered with stars.

"That white dress over there looks more comfortable to move in. That one..."

"Just go with this one."

Simen shut the wardrobe door firmly.

Seeing that wicked smile, she had the distinct feeling she'd been had—but the anticipation of going outside was stronger, and she decided not to think about it too hard.

Whatever she put on would be fine, wouldn't it.

"Ah, by the way. Simen."

"Yes?"

"Eden said to hold out just a few more days before going out..."

The excitement was brief.

The image of Eden's grief-stricken face surfaced suddenly, and her heart wavered.

If she came back with a cold, those soft eyes of his might actually shed tears...

"So you're not going?"

Simen asked, his expression flat.

Flora considered.

'...But she did want to see that.'

"I'm going!"

Flora's eyes lit up as she untied the knot of her nightclothes.