[Extra! Extra! The Arch of Triumph has finally been approved.]
The newsboy shouted, waving his newspaper. People swarmed around him like ants to sugar water. Eileen, who was also in the crowd, bought the newspaper with a coin.
The cheaply printed material, with bold headlines and the size of the page itself, said:
[The Council approved the construction of the Arch of Triumph — The True Victory of the Archduke.]
Archduke Cesare Traon Karl Erzet, owner of the wealthy Erzet family, commander-in-chief of the imperial army and only brother of the emperor.
He was the most famous person in the Traon Empire. After the long and bloody battle for power, Cesare personally elevated his brother to the throne and was named Archduke.
After that, he immediately set out to conquer the Kingdom of Kalpen. After three long years of fierce fighting, the man achieved a sudden victory. When this news was released, the entire empire rushed into the streets to celebrate and rejoice.
Upon his return, Caesar turned the Council upside down. To celebrate his victory, he demanded the construction of the Arch of Triumph.
The Council harshly criticized Cesare. They considered it impossible, arguing that the prince was actually arrogant in his desire to celebrate a victory that even the Emperor had failed to achieve.
The Council's vehement opposition was obvious, but Cesare's reputation had already soared after his incredible victory. Allowing the construction of the Arch of Triumph would be tantamount to announcing the glory of the imperial family to the entire world. The Council, composed of nobles, would not yield. If the arch were built, the power dynamic between the royal family and the nobility would be distorted.
Cesare defied the Council by setting up a barracks near the Legislative Palace. He made it clear that he and his supporters would not leave unless the Council surrendered.
After a power struggle that lasted for months, the Council gave a sigh of capitulation. Apparently, it happened on the day Eileen bought the newspaper.
[They should have conceded sooner. Still, we're lucky the victory ceremony will take place during the social season.]
[Indeed. I wonder which family will have their daughter as the next archduchess.]
Eileen adjusted her glasses as she listened to the murmur of the crowd. Her disheveled bangs continued to irritate her eyes.
The social season was in full swing. It was the responsibility of unmarried noblewomen to attend various balls and teas to find husbands. This had nothing to do with Eileen, who had not yet made her social debut.
'I'm also curious to know who the next archduchess will be, but…'
There were many things to consider before indulging in fanciful daydreams. Eileen shook her head, dismissing all unnecessary thoughts.
She continued her brisk walk, holding the newspaper at her side, before spotting a small inn in the distance. The second-floor room of the clean, but small and old inn housed Eileen's laboratory.
Eileen felt strange as she approached the place. The street, which should have been bustling, was quiet. Normally, there would be a group of children running and playing, but there weren't any in sight.
She looked around and noticed that all the windows in the house were tightly closed. Although it was still early summer, the afternoon heat was scorching. Everyone normally left their doors and windows wide open to cool their places.
Everything seemed so threatening. Eileen shrugged and ran to her laboratory, determined to seek refuge there, regardless of the strange behavior of the townspeople.
Eileen's brisk pace slowed as she approached the inn. Uniformed men stood silently in front of the building. These could only be the archduke's men, scattered like shadows in the midday sun.
A familiar face appeared before the armed soldiers. The enormous man's face was half covered in burn marks.
Eileen.
The man greeted Eileen politely.
— Mr. Lotan?
She was relieved to see a familiar face, especially one she hadn't seen in a long time. However, her trembling response made her feel a little embarrassed. Lotan politely opened the door.
Your Grace is waiting.
It was a gentle but firm command. Eileen was pushed into the inn without any hesitation.
The interior was completely empty. Normally it would be full of customers and the aroma of good food. It was bizarre to see empty tables and chairs lined up with no one in sight. After passing through the first floor, where the owner had disappeared, Eileen slowly climbed the wooden stairs.
The second floor was also empty. Even without opening any of the doors, she knew the other sides were uninhabited.
Eileen walked to the last room on the floor, took a deep breath, and looked at the door. The door with a polished doorknob was partially open.
She nervously pushed it aside, revealing a cluttered space. Glass tubes, books, syringes, and hoses—it was a room filled with all sorts of miscellaneous items.
The familiar space seemed infinitely strange. The reason for this was the man standing in front of the window.
He was caressing a vase of flowers on the windowsill. He carelessly crushed poppy petals with his leather gloves.
When she let go of his hand and turned around, some red petals fell to the ground.
He wore a dark blue uniform. The clothing was elegant and straight, impeccable, without any revealing glimpse of flesh. Only the medals caught the sunlight, reflecting a soft glow.
Beneath that dark hair, further shaded by the scorching sun, shone vibrant red irises, firmly fixed on Eileen.
Those eyes were praised for being as clear and noble as rubies. And yet, they were also the target of cruel rumors, comparing them to bloody representations of heinous pasts and nefarious intentions.
— Eileen Elrod.
A deep, pleasant voice called her name. Eileen took a deep breath, as if holding her last.
— Your Grace, Archduke!
Her heart raced at the unexpected reunion. Her voice faltered as she swallowed hard.
Congratulations on your victory!
Cesare chuckled at her stammer. His smile suggested he hadn't expected such words as her first greeting. Eileen also thought it was a very impolite greeting. She added hesitantly.
I thought you were getting ready for the victory ceremony.
Since the Arch of Triumph had only been approved today, the belated ceremony needed to be planned quickly. He must have been very busy, but Eileen couldn't understand why he had come to this wretched inn.
Sure, he thought Eileen was rather cute. But it was simply courtesy shown to the daughter of a deceased servant. There was no reason for him to rush up to her amidst the commotion surrounding the approval of the Arch of Triumph.
Eileen held his gaze as she waited for an explanation. However, Cesare simply stared at Eileen. She struggled to comprehend the intensity of his gaze.
When Eileen could no longer bear the silence, he approached her with a slight smile.
The sound of military boots thumping on the old wooden floor was audible. The closer Cesare got, the more clearly Eileen could feel his physique. He towered over most men, boasting broad shoulders and a wavy build that exuded strength and charm.
Eileen found herself breathless in the presence of the other, who made no effort to hide his untamed nature. He possessed such captivating beauty, often compared to that of a mythological god.
And yet, Eileen was acutely aware of Cesare's cruelty and intimidation. Even now, she could still smell the lingering scent of blood and gunpowder.
While Cesare was standing directly in front of her, she felt a strange tingling run down her spine. She then looked away, unable to bear his penetrating gaze.
You are using drugs.
— Excuse me? I didn't understand…
The words made Eileen lift her head abruptly. With his eyes still fixed on Eileen, Cesare spoke languidly.
— Morpheus, Eileen.
— Ah, this is for use as a pain reliever!
— So?
Eileen's mouth snapped shut at the quick, suggestive question. Morpheus was a potent painkiller, but in its unrefined form, it was opium. Because the raw material was a drug, it was extremely addictive.
After the former emperor died of an overdose, the empire executed anyone who produced or distributed drugs.
Cesare, the commander-in-chief of the Imperial Army, had the authority to order a summary execution. No one would blink if he pulled the trigger toward Eileen's head.
Eileen's mind raced with all sorts of excuses. She longed to help the empire. She desperately wanted to help His Highness's wounded soldiers in the war.
However, fear overwhelmed her, and Eileen couldn't speak. She trembled at the thought that he could point a gun at her at any moment.
Seeing her pale face, Cesare made a gesture of light. He reached out to cup Eileen's cheek, caressing the soft flesh as he murmured softly.
Oh my God, I didn't mean to scare you.
The man spoke as if he wanted to frighten Eileen. Cesare brushed her bangs aside before moving on to her glasses. They were crooked, so he took them off and put them on his face.
It seemed so strange about him that it stirred unusual feelings, like butterflies in Eileen's stomach.
Cesare laughed, pressing his fingers against the frame of his glasses.
Listen carefully, Eileen.
Without her glasses and with her bangs swept to the side, her clear vision seemed strange. Eileen looked at Cesare with trembling eyes.
I need an Archduchess.
Cesare slowly tilted his head in front of Eileen, who was barely breathing. She was tense, completely unresponsive, while his thin, black hair brushed against her face.
So, shall we get married?
To be continued….