TGW Chapter 27 Part 3

 

Fatima had not left her room in the Count Merze’s mansion for some time. With the Silver King’s birthday approaching, most of the nobles had postponed their gatherings, eagerly anticipating the grand banquet at the Imperial Palace. Only small tea parties were held here and there, but these were strictly for close-knit social circles, and Fatima wasn’t invited to them.

Countess Merze had recently become obsessed with jewelry auctions. She was out all day attending viewings with like-minded noblewomen and hadn’t been able to look after Fatima as she used to.

Fatima didn’t blame Countess Merze. Spending so much time alone in her quiet room, Fatima found herself reflecting on her own pitiful situation.

The Empire’s interest in Fatima was largely one of curiosity. To them, Fatima was an outsider, someone from beyond their circle. She hadn’t noticed at first, but gradually she felt an invisible wall around her.

Fatima realized that to truly engage with the people of the Empire, she needed to become part of their world. In other words, she needed to abandon her title as a princess and become an Imperial citizen. The best way to do that was through marriage to an Imperial noble.

And she would need a patron to help her settle down and marry into the Empire.

"I’ll help you, Princess. So, help me in return."

Not long ago, she had met with the Red King and received a secret proposal.

"Princess, I’ll help you win over the Marquis of Rad."

"…Why are you trying to help me?"

"Because your success would be beneficial to me. I know you have feelings for Marquis Rad. I want to separate him from the Silver King, and you want to win his heart. Isn’t this a mutually beneficial deal?"

"Is there something you want me to do?"

"Indeed, Princess. Your help is crucial."

Hearing the Red King’s plan, Fatima was secretly surprised. As the Red King said, Fatima was the key to the plan. And there would be a significant sacrifice involved.

‘They made such plans without even getting my consent first.’

The Red King was willing to use people as tools to achieve his goals without hesitation. Fatima had known someone like that before.

Her father’s first wife, Reka.

In the customs of the desert tribes, the first wife held enormous power. If her husband died and there was no rightful heir, she could become the head of the family herself. Unlike in the Empire, where only blood relatives could become the head, not a daughter-in-law or son-in-law.

Moreover, Reka was of priestess lineage. In the Empire’s terms, she came from the noblest family.

Polygamy was a custom, so children born to any wife were not supposed to be discriminated against in principle. However, if Reka had a son, that son would undoubtedly have succeeded her father. But Reka could not bear children.

She had no children of her own, but she adopted the son born to her father’s second wife, and that adopted son is now the strongest contender for succession.

Reka regarded Fatima, the child of her father's most beloved fourth wife, as a thorn in her side. Since childhood, Fatima had always felt eyes watching her back. Unless one has experienced it, they cannot know the fear of an invisible hand tightening around their throat.

Had she been born a boy, she would have likely died in one of Reka’s plots. It was because of Reka that Fatima developed ambition. She had to survive.

‘The Silver King and the Red King… they are a mother and daughter with very different temperaments.’

The Silver King was not one for schemes. Whatever the situation, she seemed the type to face it head-on and deal with it directly.

Yet, Fatima also felt a sense of resentment. Perhaps the Silver King's upright nature was something the Red King had cultivated. Because the Red King had been her daughter’s shadow, handling all the dirty work, the Silver King was perhaps able to look only towards the sunny places.

‘If I accept the Red King’s proposal, would the Silver King still maintain her current lofty demeanor?’

A malicious thought flashed in Fatima's mind but quickly faded.

‘What’s in it for me?’

She bore no deep-seated grudge against the Silver King, so there was no reason for resentment. Hurting the Silver King wouldn’t be satisfying. It would be nothing more than an emotional outburst, not a victory.

Fatima envied the Silver King to the point of feeling deprived. The Silver King already had everything Fatima wanted.

But Fatima didn’t believe that another’s misfortune would turn into her happiness. She had never lived with such a loser’s mindset.

Even so, the Red King’s proposal was tempting. It was a hand extended to her at a time when she felt completely lost.

She hadn’t given an answer that day. When she asked for time to think, the Red King’s expression had stiffened for a moment. It was brief, but Fatima caught a glimpse of the frustration of someone whose plans had been thrown off. Perhaps he had thought she would accept the offer eagerly.

"It was my mistake to rush without confirming your intentions. Princess, I expect you to make the right decision before the Silver King’s birthday."

Had the Red King proposed earlier, she might have accepted.

But on the day of the Iron King’s wedding celebration, seeing the Silver King and Marquis Rad enter the banquet hall together, she realized there was no longer room for her to come between them.

The way Marquis Rad looked at the Silver King was the same way her father used to look at her mother. It wasn’t something that could be forcibly taken.

Reka had wealth, power, and honor, but she could never make her father's loving gaze her own.

No matter how commanding Reka’s voice was, Fatima always harbored a sense of disdain for her, who failed to receive their father’s love. Fatima wanted to be loved and respected by her future husband. Reka’s life was not the future Fatima dreamed of.

That day, Fatima watched them from a distance before leaving the banquet early. She didn’t feel like enjoying the festivities because of her overwhelming sense of loss. Thinking back to that day, Fatima felt a bitter taste in her mouth again.

The next day, rumors of a scandal between the Silver King and the Marquis spread explosively through high society. Everywhere she went, it was all anyone talked about. Many were filled with suspicion.

"Can you believe everything in the world at face value?"

"There might be some kind of backroom deal, who knows."

This time, Fatima wasn’t swayed by their gossip. There is a desert saying: “Hatred can be hidden, but love cannot be concealed.” She believed the two were beyond the point of hiding their feelings.

“Princess.”

A maid knocked and entered.

“You have a visitor.”

“A visitor? Who?”

There was no one she could think of who would visit her suddenly.

“He’s from the Union. He said you would know if I mentioned Yudan.”

Fatima's face hardened. She immediately instructed the maid to bring the guest in. A young man in his twenties entered the room. Fatima dismissed the maid, leaving the two of them alone.

“It’s been a while. You seem to be doing well.”

Yudan said as he looked over Fatima’s appearance. Seeing someone from her homeland in traditional desert garb after so long made Fatima feel as if she had just woken up from a dream.

“Yes, it’s been a while.”

Yudan was Fatima’s half-brother. However, he was born out of wedlock and thus had no right to succeed their father. Unlike in the Empire, where even illegitimate children could become heirs, it was completely impossible in the desert.

In official settings, Yudan couldn’t speak casually to Fatima.

When they were children, Fatima had once saved Yudan’s life. Since then, Yudan has been loyal to her.

“What brings you all the way here?”

“I’ve come to take you back.”

Fatima clenched her fists tightly.

“Something’s happened to Father, hasn’t it?”

“Not yet, but it will be certain soon.”

Yudan briefly explained the king’s condition. When he first fell ill, they thought it was a minor ailment, and the healers’ diagnoses weren’t serious. But his condition gradually worsened, and he began to lose consciousness frequently.

“The First Lady—or rather, she should be called the First Queen now—her faction is bustling. They’ve started preparing for the royal succession in earnest. If the king dies suddenly, the First Queen will send someone to fetch you, so it’d be better to return with me now.”

After a long silence, Fatima muttered,

“…What could I possibly do if I returned?”

Regardless of her will, she would likely be forced into marriage. Reka wouldn’t arrange a good match for her. She would probably marry her off to a middle-aged man who already had several wives.

That’s why she had tried to win over Marquis Rad while her father was still alive. Right now, Fatima had no means to fight if she went back.

“Yudan, if I… if I say I want to keep living in the Empire…”

Yudan looked at Fatima quietly and then shrugged.

“That’s an option too. Do as you like.”

“Would you want to live here too?”

Yudan shook his head.

“For all its faults, I still love my homeland where the people I know live. Here, I’ll always just be a guest.”

“I see…”

Should she live as a foreigner for the rest of her life? Or return to her homeland, where the future was entirely uncertain?

Either choice would leave some regret.

 

***

 

While Sienna and Dian were discussing legal provisions, Sienna suddenly remembered Stus, whom she had neglected. He must have been waiting for her all this time.

"I should get going now. Let’s continue this conversation later," Sienna said.

"Indeed, let's do that," Dian agreed.

Kuhn also stood up. He had intended to gauge Dian’s feelings today, but it didn’t seem like the right time for a serious conversation.

“That works out well. Marquis Raad, please escort the Silver King back to the palace.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Kuhn replied.

Watching the two leave together, Dian smiled in satisfaction. They looked good together. Of course, Dian thought Kuhn fell far short of matching the Silver King, but finding someone like him again wouldn’t be easy.

“Sigh…”

Once they had left completely, Dian leaned back on the sofa and sighed.

‘It’s a relief that the Silver King came by.’

Dian didn't feel like telling Kuhn the truth about his uncle’s actions, nor did he want to lie.

‘I need to have a proper conversation with my uncle. What exactly is he thinking?’

He needed to understand his uncle’s true intentions before he could talk to Kuhn. A feeling of unease weighed heavily on his chest. He had a bad premonition. It seemed unlikely he could find a solution that would satisfy both his uncle and Kuhn.

---

As Sienna and Kuhn walked side by side, their presence caught the attention of the palace servants passing by. They lowered their heads and quietly walked past the pair, then whispered among themselves from a distance.

“Sienna, do you have to return to the palace right away?”

“I have a schedule, but… why?”

“I wanted to walk with you a bit. Is that too poor an excuse?”

Sienna thought his faint smile looked tired. He had seemed deep in thought on the ship back as well—could something be troubling him? If a simple walk could offer him some comfort, she was willing to do that.

Sienna gestured to the maids following from a distance.

“You all go back to the palace first. Tell Sir Stus to return in the afternoon.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

As the maids walked away, Kuhn asked, "Stus—the one you asked to investigate?"

“Yes, that's right.”

“We should check on the progress. By now, there should be some results. It's been over two months, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, around that time.”

The two started walking toward the garden. It was a perfect spring day for a stroll. The sunlight was just right, and a gentle breeze made the air feel warm.

Thanks to the good weather, the noblewomen, who usually arrived in carriages that took them deep into the palace grounds, walked in today, chatting away from a distance. They were guests attending the Red King’s tea party.

“Oh, look over there.”

“Isn’t that His Highness the Silver King and Marquis Raad?”

The distance was considerable, but it was enough to recognize the pair.

“I heard the White Chip docked at the pier yesterday. It seems Marquis Rad came to see the Silver King as soon as he returned. How romantic.”

“They look wonderful together.”

“But seeing as the Red King hasn’t said anything, does that mean she plans to just observe the two of them?”

The noblewomen stood there, chattering, until the pair faded into tiny dots in the distance. Such gossip inevitably reached Patricia’s ears, especially when there were always a few tactless individuals around. When the conversation was at its peak, one of the noblewomen said to Patricia,

“Red King, you’ll have a dependable son-in-law. They say Marquis Raad’s wealth is enough to sustain an entire country.”

In response, some of the women chimed in enthusiastically. A few glanced at Patricia, trying to gauge her reaction.

“And it’s not just his wealth; he also has the emperor’s favor. I spoke to him briefly, and he struck me as a very refined gentleman.”

“But he isn’t from a ducal family, is he?”

“Can’t he just be adopted into a ducal family? It’s not like there’s no precedent for that.”

There was indeed a precedent. If there was no suitable match of equal status for a royal marriage, the status of a potential spouse could be adjusted. But that was for a royal marriage, not for an emperor’s spouse, and there had never been such a precedent.

Patricia’s grip tightened on her teacup. She never showed her emotions in crowded places. She considered it a disgraceful act that would expose her weaknesses.

Patricia silently observed the gossiping women. They nervously rolled their eyes and quickly lifted their teacups to their lips.

‘Pathetic.’

They meant no harm, but they certainly weren’t thinking. It wasn’t even worth getting angry over. Such empty-headed people were useful for shaping public opinion, so they were best left alone.

‘I have to separate those two before the Silver King develops deeper feelings for him. If I intervene and forcibly separate them, it might backfire. The best way is to make the Silver King feel disgusted with him.’

She had given them enough time. It was about time to hear Princess Fatima's answer.

 

***

 

Kuhn asked, "Why are you so favorable towards the Iron King?"

Looking back, it was hard to imagine the relationship between the Silver King and the Iron King being the way it is now. The Silver King and the Iron King stood in complete opposition to each other in every respect.

"Because the Iron King doesn’t antagonize me. I’m just giving back what I receive," Sienna replied.

At some point, the two of them had walked deep into the garden. The palace staff who had been passing by sparsely were no longer in sight.

“Do you believe the Iron King’s kindness isn’t fake?”

Sienna looked at Kuhn, trying to gauge the intention behind his question. She could see genuine puzzlement on his face.

“I can tell the difference, at least to that extent. I might not be able to read all of the Iron King’s thoughts, but I know he doesn’t want to be at odds with me.”

“The Iron King is someone who wants to take away everything you’ve built so far. Someone less capable than you want to take what you rightfully deserve. Why aren’t you angry? Why don’t you stop him?”

Sienna halted in her tracks. Kuhn's confused expression looked quite strange. His face was always filled with certainty and brimming with confidence. That’s why she thought Kuhn believed Dian had the potential to be the emperor and was helping him for that reason. His phrase “someone less capable than you” sounded particularly significant.

“That’s not something you should be saying.”

Kuhn’s eyes flickered, and then he laughed wryly.

“…You’re right about that.”

She was always honest, and sometimes her honesty struck him painfully.

“It’s not like I have some ulterior motive for dealing with the Iron King…”

“Sienna, I’m not questioning that.”

“I feel sorry for him.”

Kuhn frowned.

“…Sorry? For whom?”

“The Iron King.”

“The Iron King?!”

Kuhn almost shouted back. Seeing his bewildered expression, Sienna laughed. She finally understood the heavy feeling she had whenever she saw the Iron King.

Often, Sienna would superimpose the real-life image of the Iron King over the one who appeared only in her dream conversations. As time went by, she began to see them as one and the same.

An emperor who died young, tormented by political rivals; a powerless emperor who had to fight using legal provisions; a weak and lonely emperor who couldn’t even bring himself to hate his half-sister, the leader of the opposition forces.

The painful guilt Sienna felt in her dreams also affected her in reality. She felt pity for a life that remained only as a portrait.

“I’ve lived my whole life lacking nothing, but the Iron King hasn’t. I heard he even lived in the slums for a while.”

“…Sympathy, huh.”

Kuhn seemed to understand, but not quite.

“Sometimes sympathy is a stronger emotion than love.”

“Is that so?”

“It’s what my mother used to say. Once you start feeling sorry for someone, you end up forgiving them for anything. She used to say the end of love is sympathy, but I’m not quite sure what she meant by that yet.”

“Who was it that your mother felt sympathy for?”

Kuhn hesitated before answering.

“My father.”

Sienna burst out laughing. Kuhn sighed.

“I envy the Iron King. To have your sympathy.”

Sienna shot him a sideways glance. Kuhn turned and spread his arms, pulling Sienna into a hug.

“Feel sorry for me, too.”

“Why should I feel sorry for you? If you’re pitiful, then no one else in this world isn’t pitiful.”

“Why?”

“You lack nothing. Wealth, power, people.”

“I’d trade all of that for just you.”

“You sure talk a lot.”

“You’re always so cold to me.”

Kuhn grumbled, tightening his arms around her. A faint scent of her perfume wafted past his nose. The arms wrapped around his back seemed to anchor his wavering self.

At this moment, he wouldn’t mind giving up anything for her. If it was something she wanted, he would even pluck the stars for her.

“Are you really okay with it? If the Iron King becomes emperor?”

“…I’m not entirely okay with it.”

She thought she was okay. Sienna believed that if it were God’s will for the Iron King to become emperor, then she would follow.

However, after learning in a recent dream that her future self had made the sacred tree bloom, she had been able to look into her true feelings. She felt resentment and injustice. Why was God so cruel to her?

She had lived her entire life with the sole focus of becoming emperor. Why now was she being told that it wasn’t her path? Why could she, who could bloom the sacred tree, be considered less than the Iron King?

Awake at dawn from her dream, she had stood by the window, gazing at the rising sun.

It wasn’t the first time she’d seen such a sight, but something about that grand scene touched a part of her. Somehow, the tangled mess inside her settled into a calm order. Deciding to let go of her greed for that brief moment seemed to have become a crucial turning point in her perspective on life.

“Sienna.”

Kuhn’s voice was low, almost a whisper, but there was strength in it. Sienna felt a strange premonition and tensed.

“If you want to be emperor, I’ll—”

Sienna released her hold on him and pushed him away.

“I won’t listen to the rest.”

“Sienna.”

“The position of the emperor in the empire isn’t one that can be raised or deposed by anyone. Whether the Iron King becomes emperor or I do, it’s simply because one’s abilities and destiny are aligned with the heavens. Don’t delude yourself into thinking otherwise.”

“…”

“…”

The silence stretched between them. Their eyes locked. Kuhn, looking into her clear golden eyes, was the first to look away.

“I see. I was being arrogant.”

“Kuhn, is something going on with you and the Iron King?”

Kuhn’s fingertips twitched.

“It’s not my place to interfere, but whatever decision you make, I hope I don’t become an obstacle.”

Kuhn gazed at her silently. He had lived with a clear sense of purpose until now. But compared to her, he felt like a mere reed swaying with every gust of wind.

If he could, he wanted to ask her, “What do you think I should do?” and seek her answer.

‘But I can’t do that. I can’t be that cowardly.’

He couldn’t abandon a man’s pride that she had deemed unnecessary, at least not in front of her. He had to find the answer on his own and bear the consequences alone.

“You can’t be just an obstacle to me. You’ve got a firm grip on my whole being.”

Afraid she might take it as a joke and scoff, Kuhn quickly added, “I mean it. No one else has as much influence over me as you do.”

“I know.”

Sienna smiled.

“You’ve got a grip on me too.”

Seeing his eyes widen in surprise, Sienna burst into laughter. Sometimes she liked the way he looked so clueless that he seemed almost dumb. Because only she could see him like this.

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