Your Meaning - Chapter 17

TL: thursdays

PR: altacco

꘏꘏꘏

Recently, the commander of the imperial guards had one kind of worry.

The imperial guard’s formal duties were to guard the emperor and the imperial family and carry out miscellaneous background investigations, plans, and so on and so forth in the shadows.

However, recently, the imperial guard had another duty, and that was to protect Dayeon. Truthfully, they were also observing her while guarding her.

Not long ago, the commander had received an unexpected report from the knight assigned to attend Dayeon’s writing lessons with the priest.

– About that priest. No matter how I look at it, I think he’s a little strange.

– What do you mean?

The temple and the imperial family had been fighting for 300 years, since the founding of the empire. For the past 100 years, the temple had been floundering, and recently, they even lost the living sign of Herunia to the emperor.

They would not have offered to teach Dayeon her letters solely out of good will. Anybody could surmise that much. That was why the emperor’s knights were surveilling along with their guard duties.

However, the report of the assigned knight was so startling that the commander of the imperial guard doubted his ears and had to ask again.

– …What? Say it again.

– That priest… seems to keep making advances to Dayeon-nim.

That right there was the reason why the commander of the imperial guards was attending Dayeon’s lesson today despite his busy schedule.

Dayeon did not remember the commander’s face, and usually several different guards took turns protecting her. Thus, she did not think it was strange when an unfamiliar face came to guard her.

Before long, the commander perfectly understood the strange feeling that the assigned knight had felt.

Was that bastard crazy?

The commander’s eyes were about to pop out.

“Did you finish your homework?”

Dayeon silently nodded and held out a bundle of practice sheets where she had repeatedly scribbled the same characters. Anybody would say that her handwriting was bad.

“You did well.”

However, Theo curved his eyes and smiled softly.

When his pretty face smiled deliberately, flowers seemed to bloom everywhere.

The priest was constantly smiling, making the atmosphere bright. Compared to Dayeon’s muted attitude, it was a perfect contrast.

The commander of the imperial guard remembered the emperor’s annoyed response when he reported on the apprentice priest a little while ago.

– The report didn’t mention that he was that good-looking.

What did he think back then? He had thought that the emperor’s reaction was too sensitive. The commander had said that the priest’s looks would not be relevant during the lessons. But wasn’t the priest trying to seduce Dayeon with his looks right now?

No, more than that, just what was up with His Majesty’s instincts…?

And there was another thing bothering him. Theo, smiling at Dayeon as she was learning new characters, pointed out:

“The stroke order is wrong.”

“Really?”

Dayeon scratched her head.

“Yes. The outcome may be the same when it’s written down, but this too has rules. If you start to memorize the stroke order incorrectly, things will be confusing later on.”

The commander’s eyes widened.

The priest, smiling softly, covered Dayeon’s writing hand with his own. Was he trying to guide Dayeon to write in the correct order by moving his hand?

When the priest touched her hand without permission, Dayeon seemed inwardly bothered, but the commander was not certain. Her expression was subtle, and she didn’t say anything and moved past it.

Certainly, the priest’s behavior was too ambiguous, making it hard to raise an official concern. It seemed there was room for him to wiggle out by claiming it was a misunderstanding or that he was being friendly.

But there was something called gut instinct. As a fellow man, the commander was 120% sure that he was trying to flirt with and seduce Dayeon.

Thankfully, Dayeon was aloof and unsociable, so she was unintentionally deflecting the priest’s benevolence.

Dayeon’s thoughts were not that she hated the priest but that she hated the ten thousand characters, but she was an iron wall among iron walls and an expert at ignoring the signs.[1]

But was it all right for a man of the cloth to have such a wicked mind? How did this damn unscrupulous circumstance occur? Maybe this bastard wasn’t a priest at all.

The commander wanted to forget his duties and run in between them, maybe break the priest’s wrist. At the same time, he became concerned.

How was he going to give this report to His Majesty?

The commander did think he should make a report, but he could not even guess at how the emperor would respond.

So, the commander of the imperial guards decided to watch over the situation a few more times, until he could make a clear judgment. And when the time was right, he would advise Dayeon to be cautious of the priest. If he couldn’t do it himself, he would borrow the mouth of the maid that attended Dayeon.

Not long ago, Mikhail had received a report regarding the negotiations from the minister of foreign affairs.

It was the news that an additional Sarman delegation would come to the Altius empire for the negotiation of their land.

The nature of the negotiations had shifted from simple post-war reparations. If it went as the emperor intended, there would be no more conflict with the Sarmans at the empire’s borders. Mikhail thought that there were no advantages for the empire to fight with the Sarmans. The empire’s territory was already vast, and the Sarmans’ barren land was not worth subjugating and managing.

Historically, there had always been large and small conflicts and looting from the Sarmans at the borderlands. For the Sarmans, whose ability to produce food was falling, it was a fight for survival where they had nothing to lose. From the Altius empire’s perspective, it was an uneconomical war that would not gain them anything even if they won. Each time the Sarmans rampaged, the popularity of the imperial family was shaken, and the emperors of the past had to lead their armies and head to battle every time.

Emperor Mikhail felt the need to change this paradigm. He had laid down plans to draw them out to the negotiation table, and now, the result was happening before his eyes.

“Your Majesty. The delegation has arrived and is waiting to greet you. And word has it that the delegation includes the second son of the Sarman king.”

“Oh?” exclaimed the emperor in interest.

Asanka, the second son of the Sarman king, was a member of the rare peaceful faction among the inflexible Sarman royalty. Nevertheless, his skill in battle and wit were exceptional, so he was sent out to lead the army whenever there was conflict. In many ways, he was different from Dosuya, the first son who had little experience in war despite being part of the pro-war faction.

“Then shall I go meet them?”

As soon as the emperor acknowledged it, the attendants nodded and opened the door. Because they had already sent people in advance, the additions to the delegation were not many in number.

Other than the minister of war, the ministers had not yet seen Asanka, the second prince. Still, the sitting ministers could see at once who the second prince was.

He had a muscular physique. Said to be a renowned warrior, even the air he radiated was different from ordinary people.

Asanka, striding forward a step, stared straight at the emperor. His greeting was very short.

“You look well.”

More than being simple, the greeting was rude.

The emperor, who had already conquered several nations, had a different status to the Sarmans who were held in contempt as barbarians. Even worse, Asanka was not a king. He wasn’t even the heir—he was just the second son of the king from the king’s second wife. His way of speaking was wrong on several levels.

“How impertinent. Speak to His Majesty with courtesy.”

A furious minister criticized Asanka’s speech, but the emperor waved his hands like it was troublesome.

“Let it go. He’s someone who doesn’t know how to be polite in the first place.”

The emperor, who stopped the minister, then looked at Asanka and reciprocated the greeting. Of course, the emperor was not a person who spoke nicely, either.

“Of course I’ll look much better at home than on a dusty battlefield. By the way, the arm I broke seems to have healed already.”

Asanka’s composure, which had remained even at the minister’s sharp remarks, broke for the first time. The crease in Asanka’s brow[1] and the emperor’s words made the ministers finally realize that the two were acquainted.

“I didn’t know you would come yourself,” the emperor said, amused.

“Isn’t that why you did it?” Asanka asked with a bitter smile.

The emperor readily acknowledged it.

“That’s true. In any case, you came a long way. You must be tired, so take a break for today and do the negotiations in detail later. If anything inconveniences you during your stay, speak to me any time. You can leave now.”

The emperor one-sidedly ended their short meeting. However, Asanka did not head back at the emperor’s command.

Asanka, looking at the emperor weirdly, opened his mouth.

“I have a request.”

“What is it?”

“Something happened with the horse I rode here. It’s a strong warhorse, but maybe the trip was too much, or it ate something bad. It hasn’t been able to eat properly for a while. If you have a doctor for animals, can you summon him?”

At those words, the emperor turned his head and looked at the grand chamberlain.

“Do as he wants.”

“Thank you.”

When the emperor waved his hand in the air dismissively, Asanka smirked and sauntered out of the reception room. Even when he was leaving, he did not show his courtesy and acted impertinently.

“Your Majesty, do you know the Sarman prince?”

When the Sarman envoys all left, the minister of literary and martial arts asked the emperor about this curious point.

“I saw him a few times during the war. We’ve crossed swords, too. A great warrior is bound to stand out anywhere.”

The ministers nodded their heads at the emperor’s words.

Asanka, with his short hair and stocky body, certainly seemed powerful. He was just standing, but they nearly felt overwhelmed by his warrior’s energy.

“Minister of Foreign Affairs.”

This time, the emperor called out to the minister of foreign affairs.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Sarman’s second prince is an outstanding warrior, but he will not be a pushover in negotiations, either.”

“Truly?”

“Honestly, it isn’t in our favor to have him at the negotiation table, but I do not believe there is anybody else in that country to whom we will be able to get through more than him.”

“…You regard him that highly.”

The emperor was as critical of other people as he was competent. Nevertheless, the emperor did not deny the minister of foreign affairs’ words. All of the emperor’s retainers knew that this was a rare high acknowledgment from the emperor.

“But the Sarmans are steadfast regarding the eldest son’s claim to succession. Thanks to that, that man cannot ascend to the throne and will be used as his incompetent blood’s weapon at war or moved around for the rest of his life. Then, in the end, isn’t that bad luck for their nation?”

The emperor, giving that biting criticism, seemed to be lost in his thoughts.