The Emperor Is My Brother's Best Friend
Ch. 89

Lady Dawson caught sight of Nina's hand inching closer to her.

"What are you doing?"

As she questioned Nina, her eyes widened.

Nina responded with a smile and ran her hand through Lady Dawson's hair.

"It's dusty."

"Oh, really? I thought I had brushed..."

Embarrassment tinted Lady Dawson's cheeks crimson as Nina rose from her seat and moved closer.

"I'll take care of it."

Nina gently smoothed her hand through Lady Dawson's hair.

Strangely, Lady Dawson felt that there hadn't been a speck of dust to begin with. 

As Nina's fingers traced the path, a faint red glow appeared and then vanished.

Nina watched as the red light seemed to be absorbed into Lady Dawson's light green hair. With a nod of satisfaction, Nina withdrew her hand.

"It worked."

"Thank you, Lady West."

"Ah, well, I'll head out now."

"Already? But it's not even bedtime yet."

Lady Dawson's disappointment was clear.

Nina, however, averted her gaze, pretending not to notice.

"I'm feeling a bit tired tonight. I think I'll turn in early."

"Alright. Sweet dreams."

"Yes."

Nina gently avoided Lady Dawson from walking her to the door, bid her good night, and left without glancing back.

The temple corridors were quiet, and once outside Lady Dawson's room, Nina paused and examined her right hand.

"With no soul in the body, any power is pretty useless. But well, this should suffice."

After a brief moment watching Lady Dawson's closed door, Nina took a step forward. Soon enough, she crossed paths with another candidate, a fellow lady, walking in the opposite direction.

"Lady West, where are you headed?"

"Hmm, just taking a little stroll. I suppose I'm going wherever my feet lead me."

"Oh! I actually came to say something to you."

Nina offered a warm smile and friendly greeting.

"How about we head to my room then?"

Seeming to dismiss the conversation with Lady Dawson as mere fatigue, Nina extended an invitation to her room. Together, they entered as the door closed, enveloping the hallway in silence once more.

---

"As the day draws to a close..."

Rose's voice was soft as she unwound the towel from her damp hair. 

Seated at her vanity, she chuckled at her present situation.

"I never thought I'd be washing and drying my own hair without Anne."

Born as the young lady of the Honeywell family, she'd never had to wash her hair by herself. 

Anne and the other ladies-in-waiting were always there to assist.

"Still, it's not bad to handle something on my own."

As her hands towel-dried her hair, Rose hummed a quiet tune. A small sigh escaped her lips.

"Things... The schedule here is simpler than I expected. Maybe that's why the previous candidates for Tristan's Gloria didn't talk much about it."

Certainly, I'd be at a loss for words if I returned to the capital and someone asked me what I'd been up to at the temple, their eyes brimming with curiosity.

Let's see... We stuck to vegetarian meals to avoid harm, spent time meditating to clear our minds and spirits, and even trekked mountains for ancestral ceremonies. Hahah... Those are the sorts of things you can't exactly share with those who hold idealized visions of the temple.

"It would be awkward to explain."

Rose rose from her seat at the vanity, readying herself for bed. 

However, her steps toward the bed abruptly halted when her eyes caught something on the floor.

"What's this?"

Upon picking it up, Rose found herself holding a neatly folded note.

Tilting her head, she unfolded the paper and began to read, an exclamation escaping her lips.

"Ah! Anne gave this to me."

It was the same note Anne had handed to her right in front of the Honeywell Manor on the day Rose had departed for the Gloria Shrine. 

A note that held the clue to the identity of an anonymous sender who had gifted her something.

Rose settled onto the edge of the bed, the note clutched in her hand.

"The postman might know who sent the gift."

As she peered at Anne's handwriting on the paper, Rose's expression grew complex.

"At that moment, I was curious. I wanted to meet this person, but... what would I really want if I were to meet them?"

In her youth, the boy she had met during the foundation festival was Rose's first love.

It had been unmistakable, and the emotions she had experienced for the very first time held immense value to her.

She had cherished them over time.

Misguidedly, she had mistaken that boy for Elliot, investing her heart in that passionate love.

And now, recognizing the two as entirely distinct individuals, she found gratitude in that realization.

And so a question formed within Rose's mind.

What would she do if she were to meet her first love again? Would she kindle that old flame?

With that thought, Rose vigorously shook her head.

"No, I can't say I love someone when I can't even recall their face. I..."

Before she could complete her thought, a figure zipped across her line of sight in an instant. Russell appeared but disappeared just as quickly, leaving Rose momentarily speechless.

"I have feelings for His Majesty."

Those sentiments were already known to Rose.

"If I happen upon the person who gave me that gift, I'll express my gratitude, even if it's belated. I'll thank them for their help on that day when I got lost, and..."

Rose's fingers fiddled with the note, and a faint smile graced her lips.

It was a smile that hinted at relief, a resolution attained for something that had been troubling her.

---

Within the Tristan Imperial Throne Room, Russell occupied the throne atop the dais. 

His posture exuded a touch of arrogance as he watched the figure that knelt on one knee, his gaze focused on the figure below him.

Following the person's greeting, Russell leaned his arm on the chair's armrest and supported his chin with his hand.

"Back from the Rosenberg Marquisate, huh? Welcome, Duke Proud. I've received a report about the recent events there. You've been through quite a lot."

Russell's acknowledgment was met with a respectful bow from Elliot.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Alright. So, was the mysterious incident there simply the result of wild beasts?"

"Yes. As stated in the report, the time gaps between the attacks were irregular, and the conclusion was reached based on the variations in the causes of death. Lady Allison also supported that decision."

"Alright. Spring brought quite a bit of trouble there. Don't concern yourself with imperial affairs today, just head home."

Russell's gaze remained on Elliot as he awaited a farewell and departure. 

However, it wasn't Elliot's parting words that reached him.

"Your Majesty, I'm heading directly to the Temple of Gloria."

"Why is the Duke going there?"

A slight frown appeared on Russell's face as he inquired. 

Elliot answered his query smoothly and without hesitation.

"We've received a report that the Tristan's Gloria candidates are on their way to the Gloria Temple. Naturally, the Imperial Knights should provide protection, so I'll be heading there myself. Besides, tomorrow marks their return to the capital, making it the perfect opportunity for me to escort them."

Elliot's words flowed seamlessly.

Russell stifled a chuckle. 

The Tristan's Gloria candidates consisted of noble ladies, and it was customary for the Imperial Family to ensure their safety during journeys for imperial events. 

Therefore, around this time, the Imperial Knights would travel to the Gloria Temple to provide an escort.

Yet the source of Russell's amusement was that Elliot Proud, the Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Knights, had never needed to lead an escort in previous years. 

However, this year Rose was among the candidates, hence Elliot's decision to personally accompany them. 

Russell contemplated his options, tapping a finger on the armrest of his chair. 

After a moment's consideration, he made up his mind.

"Alright. Go ahead."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I'll pack my things right away..."

"I'm a bit concerned as well. It wouldn't hurt to go."

Russell interrupted Elliot, voicing his thoughts. 

It's not just Elliot who was caught off guard. Even the knights flanking Russell's throne were trying to determine whether they had heard correctly.

"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. What does that mean?"

The knight beside Russell hurriedly sought clarification.

With a single smile directed at him, Russell rose from his seat. 

All eyes followed his movements.

Russell slowly descended the carpeted stairs, knights trailing after him, their footsteps lighting up the staircase.

As the distance between him and Elliot narrowed, Russell spoke up.

"Duke Proud, I'll accompany you to the Gloria Temple. Even if that wasn't the case, I was planning to summon High Priest Heilman there. He's likely to be occupied, so I'll take the initiative and seek him out."

"True, the high priest is busy, but it's common knowledge that Your Majesty is even busier in the lead-up to the founding festival."

Elliot presented this fact in a manner of refutation, but Russell merely shrugged and continued to walk past him.

"I decided to go. Who will dare stop me? The Imperial Family has capable attendants, and I can entrust them with tasks temporarily. Once everything is prepared, we'll summon the duke."

Russell strode toward the audience room's exit.

He couldn't discern if Elliot was still kneeling at the back, nor did he pause to check. 

The door swung open with the assistance of a knight. 

Russell's uneasy smile surfaced only after he had completely exited the room.

"... I wonder if Wells will let me off the hook."

---

"I'll take care of the founding festival's arrangements."

Russell had anticipated a negative response from Wells. 

He had formulated excuses in case he needed them. 

However, Wells easily granted Russell permission.

"Are you serious?"

Russell asked skeptically, his gaze holding Wells' suspicious one.

"Was I joking?"

"I thought you were. But... they probably just couldn't fathom the idea of their emperor being absent during such a busy period."

"In my heart, I wish I could tie a rope around His Majesty and make him work."

Wells' tone was earnest, yet Russell treated it as a joke, feigning ignorance of its true implications.

"Hahah! As expected, the duke is quite formidable."

"However, the reason I can assist Your Majesty to such an extent that your absence poses no issue is because Rose is at the temple."

"..."

"The child is still unstable. No one is aware that there's a monster soul residing in her... I'm concerned, especially because Duke Proud mentioned going to the temple."

"Hmm. I share your worry."

"Your Majesty, if you visit the Gloria Shrine, inquire after Rose. While Duke Proud likely won't act rashly there, we're uncertain of his exact intentions."

"Alright, I'll make sure to check on Lady Honeywell's safety."

Although they were alone in Wells' office, the two conversed in hushed tones, wondering if the walls had ears. 

It wasn't long before a knock echoed between them.

"Who's there?"

Wells inquired at the door, and on the other side, a knight looking for Russell responded. After being granted entry by Wells, the knight approached Russell hastily, covering his mouth with his hand to whisper something in Russell's ear.

"Your Majesty..."

A barely audible whisper escaped the knight's lips, too faint for even Wells, who was in close proximity, to catch. 

A perplexed expression flitted across Russell's face as he received a report from the knight. Wells observed the change closely, his head tilting in curiosity.

"Alright. You may go for now." 

Russell responded to the knight's report with a curt nod. 

The knight, having conveyed his message, bowed respectfully and left the office. 

Wells couldn't suppress his curiosity and asked.

"What was in that report that flustered Your Majesty?"

"Um, nothing much. Since you've probably packed everything, I'll head to the Gloria Temple. I know you're swamped with tasks, so don't trouble yourself to come see me off."

"Ah, yes. Safe travels."

With haste, Russell made his exit from Wells' office. 

Left alone, Wells pondered what report had stirred Russell's disconcertment. 

Unable to conjure a satisfactory explanation, he resolved to cease mulling over it.

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