Chapter 12 : Devotion and Ambition (精進と野心)

"Someone has imposed an oath on her," Theodore remarked, handing a book over to Charlotte.

"So, as long as she doesn't mention anything about that person, she's safe, huh," Charlotte murmured, her eyes following the intricate lettering of the chapter's title.

Oaths

Giving a quick read, she discovered a multitude of oath varieties. The 'Oath of Secrecy' appeared to be the one Kana had taken.

The text indicated that oaths could be taken both mutually and unilaterally. However, for one-sided oaths, three crucial factors stood out.

Unlike mutual oaths, where a magic circle manifests after the oath as confirmation, the dynamics of a one-sided oath were different. The magic circle needed to be activated beforehand, with the subjects positioned within it, and the enforcer had to possess superior power. Only under these conditions could the unilateral oath be successfully taken.

As Charlotte quickly perused the oath names, one particular term seized her attention.

'Oath of...Binding'

As she delved into the text, Charlotte's eyebrows subtly twitched in distaste.

The Oath of Binding, also known as the Lover's Red Thread.

The oath wove a connection between two hearts, creating an awareness of each other's whereabouts and well-being. The symbiosis extended to the point that if one endured suffering, the other would share a sympathetic pain in their heart. A potent force, this oath could snatch someone from the brink of death, fueled by the strength derived from the other.  Lastly, if one were to meet their demise, the other would follow suit at that very moment.

"Seems rather uncomfortable," Charlotte murmured, drawing Theodore's attention as he tended to a flower. He looked at her inquisitively, and she subtly shook her head.

In the current moment, they were immersed in an expansive garden that seemed to stretch endlessly, as if they were in the middle of an infinite field.

Embraced by towering glass walls and a domed ceiling, the space felt like a magical sanctuary. Within these verdant confines, Theodore conducted his various classes, except for swordsmanship, which was always held in the training ground.

"Do you have a fondness for flowers?"

Theodore had inquired on the first day of magic class, the question coming out of nowhere.

"I do, Your Majesty."

"Then, I happen to know a place."

Theodore had led the way through the palace's inner hallway Charlotte didn't know existed, where shadows enveloped the confined space. Suddenly, the corridor opened up into a burst of radiant light.

With a slight hesitance, Charlotte had stepped into the brilliance after Theodore, and found herself in a vast garden encased within thin glass.

Charlotte felt her breath catch as the magical spectacle unfolded before her, showcasing a myriad of flowers in full splendor, with the sun and clouds visible through the glass ceiling.

Later that night, she learned from Miyuki that, under the Emperor's orders, the garden was a restricted area where no one but him was allowed to enter. It was a sanctuary maintained by the Emperor's magic, ensuring that not a single bloom dared to wilt within its guarded confines.

Time and again, Charlotte always noticed Theodore's lost gaze fixed upon a colossal white tree with nothing but pristine white flowers. It stood at the center of the garden, the only tree in the whole garden, and was large enough to be seen from the entrance.

To Charlotte, the white tree appeared as a weathered yet strong guardian of the garden, always casting a dreamy ambiance under the radiant sun.

"I have a question for you," Theodore interrupted, drawing Charlotte from her thoughts. "Why didn't you mention that specific conversation with the girl to either the knight or the maid?"

Closing the book in her hand, Charlotte picked up the other book designated for today's class—the book on magic circles.

"I didn't deem it necessary," she replied calmly.

Last night, Theodore had an audience with Ingrid in his office, during which she divulged the details of the events at the Empyrean Palace. Her report didn't mention the conversation Charlotte had told him about with the girl, except for Charlotte's request to provide a meal for the girl after exiting the room where the fainted girl was kept.

"As I've observed, neither Miyuki nor Ingrid knoe about my family's murder, nor about the unknown individual who brought me here," She spoke, keeping her attention fixed on the book.

"That is true. Only Kuro and two others whom you've yet to meet are aware of that information."

"Not even the Prince?" Charlotte inquired, meeting his gaze as she looked up from her book.

"He doesn't need to know yet...Do you not like the Prince?" Theodore inquired, a slight smile playing on his lips as he observed Charlotte's expression.

"Why do you ask?"

Theodore shook his head slightly, a small smile still playing on his lips, noting that Charlotte herself seemed unaware that every time the Prince was mentioned, a subtle frown always marred her face.

"I don't know the Prince enough to have an opinion on him," Charlotte stated in her monotone voice, redirecting her attention back to her book.

'And I don't want to know.' Charlotte kept that thought to herself.

"I see." Theodore nodded, taking a seat on his chesterfield.

Charlotte, seated on the cozy cabriole across from him with a long desk holding stacks of books in front of her, focused intently on her studies.

From the very first day of her classes here, Charlotte found herself deeply fond of the Garden.

As a gentle breeze, allowed only by the Emperor's magic, swept through the enclosed garden, a silvery-white petal gracefully landed on Charlotte's book.

The petal was from the flower of the garden's central tree, its unique blossoms possessing a mystical allure that lingered in one's memory long after witnessing them.

Charlotte had never seen such a flower before.

She picked it up contemplatively. "Since nothing ever wilts within this garden," Charlotte glanced up at the Emperor seated on his sofa, "has everything remained unchanged since its inception?"

"...It is so," Theodore replied without taking his eyes off the paperwork in his hand.

When Charlotte engaged in self-study within the class, the Emperor always attended to his official duties.

'A timeless sanctuary...' Charlotte mused to herself, letting the wind carry away the petal from her palm.

"Was everything grown by magic too?" Charlotte asked.

Theodore's hand flipping the pages came to a pause, and he replied, taking his time.

"No, everything was grown by a human."

"Even the main tree of this garden?"

Theodore finally took his eyes off his work, gazing in the direction of the central tree. His golden hair gleamed under the sunlight, gently swayed by the soft wind.

There it was, the nostalgic look Charlotte always found on his face, lost as he gazed at that tree.

"...That one was...there before I was born," Theodore looked back at Charlotte, a small smile appearing on his face. "You seem to enjoy flowers more than I expected."

Charlotte blinked as she retraced her memories.

"I stumbled upon it through the librarian at our school," she said, looking at Theodore and tilting her head slightly. "She lent me her book, mentioning that flowers have a language of their own and I might want to read it."

"Did you?"

"Not at first, but..." Charlotte cast her eyes downward and slowly blinked in thought. "I liked it... I guess."

Theodore smiled as he observed Charlotte, who rarely ever revealed her young and curious side.

She was, after all, just a child.

"Anytime you are free to enter this garden." He spoke as he picked up golden royal stamp to sign the official papers.

"..May I?"

"The Empyrean palace belongs to you. This garden included."

****

Through the hallway in the west wing of the Golden Palace, the confident click-clack of Ingrid's polished boots echoed.

The hallway was quiet, already deep into midnight. After Ingrid finished Charlotte's class, she headed to her estate in response to her father's summons.Her father had called her for official business, but upon her arrival, the dining table was set like a banquet feast and he awaited her with a wide grin.

'My daughter, it's been ages since we last ate together.' 

Marquess Angelos Konstantinou, her father, was a high-ranked official and one of the ten members of the Golden Council of Nobles in the Golden Court. Despite showing signs of age in his appearance, he always presented himself with the utmost prestige, reflecting his wealth and power.

The Konstantinou family was a longstanding noble house under the Golden Royalty, directly serving the Golden Royalty itself.

"I thought you had some work with me," Ingrid stated, standing at the table's end with a knightly posture, showing no intention of joining the dinner.

Angelos let out a dramatic sigh, placing his hands on the table, interlocking his fingers, and resting his chin on them.

Except for his hair, eyes, and skin color, Ingrid totally took after her mother in terms of personality.

He pointed at the chair across from him with a big, warm smile and gestured for Ingrid to sit, leaving her no choice but to comply, though with a slight frown.

"Where is Mother?" Ingrid asked as she picked up the cutlery.

"If I told your mother I lied and called you while you were working, don't you think she'll scold me?"

"That's what I wanted."

"I didn't hear you properly, darling daughter."

"The food is good, father dearest."

Ingrid concentrated on her meal but could see her father through the periphery, resting his forehead in his interlocked fingers with a long sigh.

Despite his power and rank, and the proud persona he showed at court befitting his title, her father's personality at home could be called a pushover at best.

Neither his daughter nor his wife took him seriously.

Her mother, three years older than her father, and once a warrior, now always remained at the estate, spending her time mostly in the gardens in a wheelchair after losing mobility in both her legs in an incident.

Astrid Agnar.

Her mother, originally from the Red Empire, hailed from a warrior clan with wild curly brown hair, honey skin, and steely eyes. She was Ingrid's role model and the reason she became a knight.

Just as she picked up the glass of water, her father raised his head, eyes sparkling and a Cheshire smile on his face.

Ingrid could hardly swallow the water, knowing what was about to come out of her silly father's mouth.

"How are things with the Crown Prince?"

Ingrid sighed, then stood up and strode towards the door while speaking, "I have already told you, Father. Except for being the Crown Prince's knight and the second in command of The Regal Raptors, I want nothing personal with the Crown Prince."

Before walking out, she turned around, gave a respectful knightly bow, and headed out to the Golden Palace, leaving her father sighing once again.

As Ingrid reached the huge golden door that led to the Crown Prince's office, she took a long breath.

She knew the reason why her father always wished for her to be betrothed to the Crown Prince.

She had the pedigree to be chosen as the betrothed of the Crown Prince and even worked directly under him. This would elevate her to an untouchable figure in a court where female knights were neither as appreciated nor as common.

Unlike the Red Empire, where female knights were equal in number to male knights and treated as equals, the Golden Empire and the Black Empire were not as progressive.

But Ingrid didn't want that. Whether it was her pride or ego, she refused to rely on a man just to make her path easier.

And...certainly not that Crown Prince, out of everyone.

Growing up, she had seen the strong bond between her parents. Despite her father's usual silliness and her mother's scoldings, she was aware of their love for each other, and the adversities they had faced together.

She had heard their story countless times from her old nanny, Agnes, who kept forgetting everything but loved repeating the tale. Despite the repetition, Ingrid never tired of hearing it.

Her father, the youngest of three children of the previous Marquess, had no interest in nor any chance of succeeding the family title. The family was barely holding onto their prestige and wealth due to his father's negligent attitude. At 36 years old, he was sent on an excursion to the Red Empire with the royal knights and influential traders for business purpose.

There, in a mountainous region of lush green, he came across her mother, the eldest daughter and heiress of a warrior clan.

Her father always said he had fallen in love at first sight with the woman who looked so free and proud, riding a horse with her wild hair flying in the strong winds.

But marriage between people from different empires was and is not legalized and only occurs on very rare occasions.

There was no way the youngest son, who had wasted his life loitering around, from the Marquess family, who were barely holding onto their title, could marry someone from another empire, especially an heiress of a prominent clan.

But still, her father hadn't given up on her mother. He kept pestering and following her like a lost puppy, as quoted by her mother, and sometimes even getting into trouble with other clan members due to his attachment to her.

After spending most of their time together for nearly a year in the Red Empire, her mother had also fallen for her father, a fact she still doesn't quite agree with, just to tease her father.

However, her father had to return early to the Marquessate due to the sudden passing of his elder brother from a disease.

Both of them continued to exchange letters, but after nearly a month, the letters from her mother stopped coming.

Unknown to her father, a tragedy had befallen her mother's clan when a rival clan attacked suddenly due to internal strife. While defending her people, her mother was injured by a poisoned arrow, permanently losing the ability to use her legs. If not for timely medical intervention, she would have lost her life.

Her mother, cast aside and stripped of her title as heiress, secluded herself in a small annex and was cared for only by one old maid, Agnes.

Her mother, who had lost everything she ever had, stopped contacting her father through letters. She couldn't bring herself to show her weak and pathetic self and become a burden to her father too. At that time, she was already three months pregnant with Ingrid.

There was one memory of her mother that she had shared with 9-year-old Ingrid, who eagerly had asked for a bedtime story.

After a little more than three years had passed, her mother was strolling through the grasslands in her wheelchair with the sleeping Ingrid in her arms when she heard a voice carried by the wind, calling her name from behind.

A voice she had longed to hear so much—the voice of the man she still loved so dearly.

Her mother had told her that her heart beat so fast she thought it might explode. She feared it might just be her imagination, so she dared not turn around. Then, the man she had longed to see again walked in front of her and knelt down on his knees.

Her mother told her that her father cried as he hugged both her and Ingrid, apologizing continuously that he wasn't able to come back early.

Her mother, unable to speak due to shock, caught sight of Agnes, who wept silently as she bowed her head, understanding why and how Angelos was there.

Her mother told her to keep this a secret from her father, that even when she was informed she had lost the mobility of her legs, couldn't wield her swords, and couldn't ride her beloved horses anymore, she hadn't cried as much as she did when she was reunited with her father again.

"Will you go with me?" Angelo's had asked Astrid, who couldn't reply through her sobs.

Before she could even ask how that could be possible, Angelos explained that he had thought Agnes had abandoned him. However, nearly a year after their departure, he received a letter from Agnes explaining everything that had transpired.

From that moment, Angelos worked tirelessly, doing everything he could to elevate the status of his family's business. After a year of hard work, he succeeded in becoming the head of the Marquessate.

However, due to the laws, he still couldn't marry someone from another Empire. So, he pursued the only path he believed could help him.

He spread his influence far and wide, and after more than a year, he officially became a member of the Golden Council of Nobles. As was tradition, he was asked for one wish to be granted by the Golden Emperor.

Kneeling on one knee with his head bowed in the throne room, where the Golden Emperor, the Order of the Six Wings, and the remaining members of the council were all present, Angelos had no second thoughts or hesitations about what he wished for.

He wished to bring his wife and daughter home.

Ingrid closed her eyes and again took a deep breath before the closed door.

She had aspired to attain a high position within the Golden Court through her own efforts, and she had succeeded. Being the knight of the Golden Crown Prince and second in command of his personal squadron was a significant achievement, and she was satisfied.

She had never been interested in a man, but growing up witnessing her parents' deep devotion, especially her father's unwavering love for her mother, Ingrid held a quiet hope. If there was ever someone she wished to spend her life with, it was for a love as pure and genuine as her parents', devoid of ulterior motives and selfish gain.

But the Crown Prince she served—

"Aren't you coming in?"

Through the closed door came the voice of the high and mighty boy inside.

Ingrid slowly opened the door and greeted the Crown Prince with a knightly bow.

The golden boy, dressed casually in a loose satin white shirt and white dress pants, sat by the large open window behind his office desk. His eyes, which had been scanning the documents in his hands, now trailed towards her as she entered.

"You're late."

Ingrid straightened her posture and met the smiling eyes of the Crown Prince she served, his lips curled into his regular casual smirk. He looked like a golden boy full of sunshine in the dark night that loomed behind him.

But the Crown Prince she served, who always seemed to have an ulterior motive and took advantage of everyone, with a smiling face masking selfishness, was someone she never wanted to have any personal relation to.