I’m the Only One Who Can Put the Tyrant To Sleep Chapter 112

Caesar’s lunch with Lunavel began much like the ones before.

The lunches with noble daughters weren’t held in the dining hall but in the reception room, limited to just one hour. Since time was short, it was a simplified meal rather than a full banquet.

When I brought Lunavel into the reception room, Caesar was seated, skimming through a few documents.

I guided Lunavel to the seat opposite him and then stepped back a few paces behind Caesar. At the same time, I smoothly took the bundle of papers from his hands.

No matter how unwilling he might be, keeping his eyes on documents in front of a guest was discourteous.

While Caesar shot me a displeased glance, Lunavel began her greeting.

“G-greetings to Your Majesty, the Emperor.”

Like the other noble daughters, she seemed to be trying to follow court etiquette, but there was something clumsy about her.

Her face was still flushed red, her voice trembled pathetically, and at one point, her legs even shook as if she might stumble.

But Caesar, entirely uninterested, merely gave her a slight nod.

Soon Lunavel sat down, and the meal proceeded in silence. I, however, kept staring at her.

‘So it really was her… that young lady from back then.’

She had seemed such a child at the time, and now she had grown so much—yet that same innocent face remained. It was astonishing.

‘Especially that shy expression—it hasn’t changed at all.’

Perhaps she was simply the shy type. If so, it was remarkable she even dared to request a private audience with Caesar.

“U-um…”

To my surprise, it was Lunavel who broke the silence. Her face was still bright red, yet she gritted her teeth as if unwilling to waste this chance.

“D-do you usually dine here, Your Majesty?”

“…Only when I’m busy.”

Caesar answered curtly, but Lunavel pressed on.

“I see! The reception room is so beautiful. Its splendor really suits you, Your Majesty…”

Caesar, expression blank, gave no reply.

The young ladies invited to these luncheons usually fell into two groups. Those who elegantly displayed their prepared knowledge, and those who peppered Caesar with personal questions—only to be cut short.

In the second case, Caesar typically shifted the conversation to political topics, neatly steering the atmosphere back into order.

It seemed Lunavel belonged to the second group.

‘One or two more personal questions, and Caesar will cut her off.’

Sure enough, when Lunavel next asked about his favorite food, Caesar abruptly brought up a new subject.

“What do you think about nobles being allowed to tax up to 40 percent of their territory’s harvest?”

“…Pardon?”

Lunavel blinked wide-eyed at the sudden change of topic.

‘Either she’ll be offended at being ignored and sulk, or she’ll hesitate and waste the rest of her time. It’ll be one of the two.’

I assumed she would do the latter. But to my surprise, she soon answered, her voice steady.

“The ideal solution, of course, would be lowering the maximum tax rate. But realistically, that would be difficult—the nobles would resist strongly. So rather than regulations, I think rewards would work better.”

“Rewards?”

“After all, not many nobles actually collect the full forty percent. You could reward those who don’t. Such rewards would be a more stable, long-term gain than the short-term profit from forcing high taxes.”

As I listened to her calm response, I couldn’t hide my surprise.

Not only at her answer, but her composure. It was hard to believe this was the same girl who moments ago stammered nervously with a crimson face.

“You mean the state should bear the cost of those rewards.”

Caesar, too, was now considering her words carefully.

“They wouldn’t necessarily have to be material. Nobles prize honor above all, after all.”

“…So you take an interest in such matters regularly?”

Leaning forward from his seat, Caesar asked. It wasn’t just me—he, too, had grown interested in her.

“M-me? Ah, no, not really…”

At once, Lunavel’s face flared red again.

“I only… heard that Your Majesty once spoke on the matter of tax rates, so…”

“…I see.”

Caesar nodded slowly, seeming to take her words as a sign of loyalty.

‘That’s not it…’

I watched Lunavel, her face flushed as she kept her eyes fixed on the table.

Her blushing cheeks, her trembling hands, her stammering—all of it was from being conscious of Caesar. Not because he was the emperor, but because he was Caesar.

Soon Caesar lost interest again, and the meal sank back into silence. But I couldn’t take my eyes off Lunavel.

That innocent face, unchanged from years ago, was filled with pure affection for Caesar.

She was different from the other young ladies. She truly held feelings for him as a man.

Almost unconsciously, I checked the time. Not even half the promised hour had passed. For some reason, today time felt slower than ever.

 

 

 

****

 

 

 

An hour later, I once again escorted Lunavel out of the Imperial Palace.

Just like when we came, I walked ahead while Lunavel trudged along behind me.

When I glanced back, her shoulders were slumped as though all her tension had drained away. Then suddenly, our eyes met.

“Um, Deputy Lady-in-Waiting!”

As if she had been waiting for the chance, Lunavel quickly asked,

“Does this mean I’ll never be able to meet His Majesty again? It would be difficult to have another meal with him, wouldn’t it?”

“I couldn’t say. That’s for His Majesty to decide, not me.”

The words left my mouth before I realized how sharp my tone sounded. Surprised at myself, I shut my lips, but Lunavel didn’t seem to mind and continued speaking.

“I see… Well, I shouldn’t get my hopes up anyway. I acted so foolishly…”

Looking at her expression, which seemed even more drained of spirit, I turned my head away.

It had only been about an hour, but I could tell. Lunavel was a pure child, much like Floriana or Katana.

She had been the same ever since the time when Caesar was called nothing more than a Crown Prince in name, back when he had no power at all.

Though she had shown some nervousness, she was wise—and also endearing.

She was even a count’s daughter, yet because of my title as Deputy Lady-in-Waiting of the Imperial Palace and my age, she treated me with respect, despite me only being a baron’s daughter. That alone spoke volumes about her character.

So I could have offered her some comfort.

I could have told her that, among all the meals so far, she was the one Caesar seemed most interested in. That he seemed to like her answers. That I would put in a good word for her to His Majesty…

No, that wouldn’t even be comfort. It would simply be stating the truth.

But strangely, I didn’t want to. I wanted Lunavel to remain disappointed. I didn’t want to say—even as an empty courtesy—that Caesar should meet her again.

‘If I did, and he truly did meet her again…’

A petty feeling rose inside me. The thought of Caesar actually marrying made my heart restless.

‘Of course. It’s only natural. If a close friend suddenly got married, anyone would feel uneasy…’

I repeated the excuse to myself over and over. But then a question struck me.

‘…Why? Why wouldn’t it be a good thing?’

If Katana were to marry, would I feel the same? If Floriana were to marry? I might feel a little sad, yes, but would I feel this petty? This unsettled?

If I truly felt nothing for Caesar, then as a friend I should be able to congratulate him on his marriage. Shouldn’t I?

The realization hit me like a hammer to the head. I froze in place.

“…Deputy Lady-in-Waiting?”

Lunavel also stopped, looking at me with wide, curious eyes. Seeing those round eyes made me feel faintly dizzy.

‘If Caesar held another woman’s hand, laughed as he spoke with her, took a stroll with her, and passed by Evelyn pretending not to notice… would that really be fine?!’

Katana’s words came back to me. The woman I had vaguely imagined as Caesar’s partner could just as easily be Lunavel standing before me. No, even if it wasn’t Lunavel, it would be the same.

It wasn’t the Empress’s throne that mattered. What shook me was the thought of giving up the place at Caesar’s side.

‘Because this isn’t about finding an Empress—it’s about finding Caesar’s beloved.’

No matter who it was…

Uncontrollable feelings surged inside me. Irritation, anger, frustration—all tangled together.

At last, I realized the name of this emotion.

It was… jealousy.