Chapter 16
The Emperor’s Companion
2023.08.16
Belph said that most of the emperors in the empire had companions. And history records them as devoted spouses unmatched by anyone else. Peter knew the reason better than anyone in the world.
The reason was simple: without one, he would feel like he’d die from the restlessness.
A companion of the emperor means someone with whom the emperor shares life. The companion’s life is connected to the emperor’s. In other words, the emperor and the companion are one.
However, this only applied to the emperor. When there was no companion, only the emperor suffered, struggling with a gnawing emptiness, every impulse crawling along his spine like walking on a path of thorns, every moment tense and nerve-wracking.
Only the emperor would feel his entire body burning as if a piece of flesh had been cut away, or be consumed by a maddening desire of ownership toward the other.
In the end, having a companion meant the emperor had his greatest weakness. Without a companion, the emperor would collapse quickly. The emperor’s possessiveness and obsession over his companion stemmed from this.
If the emperor did not maintain a long-term companion, he could not control his volatile madness.
Yet, as long as a companion existed, the emperor would inevitably become dependent on them. It would be better to carry the empire’s sacred wrath on one’s forehead than to make something finite and controllable a personal weakness—because that inevitably invites ruin.
If either way drove one mad, Peter chose to go mad alone rather than share his life.
The person he had imprinted upon was already dead.
“I wanted to erase everything.”
No matter how much one tries to erase memories, one sense cannot be undone: the memory of smell.
In his memory, Lowell carried a faint scent of roses. Whether it was the fragrance she used while bathing or because she spent all her time in a greenhouse where roses bloomed year-round, he could not tell—but it was there.
So when Peter reached a point where he could no longer bear Lowell’s memory, he chose to bury himself in the rose scent.
The intense rose fragrance, strong enough to numb the sense of smell, gave the illusion that Lowell was nearby. After deceiving himself with eyes closed for a while, the frenzied madness inside him would subside somewhat.
Only through such irrational actions could he endure without going completely mad.
“When will I ever get out of here?”
Peter opened the garden gate that had been closed for three years. The faint rose scent at the tip of his nose was his only comfort. Feeling the tormenting impulses slowly subside, he stepped further inside.
Only then could Peter finally release all tension. The space, completely isolated from the outside world, felt like a return to the past.
Was that why something he shouldn’t see appeared before him?
Peter momentarily doubted his eyes. The unpleasant question filling his mind escaped in a hesitant voice:
“…Lowell?”
After giving Simoren two secrets on the sunset path,
Lowell heard from him about the “Sealed Garden.”
“The Conservatory was created shortly after His Majesty’s ascension. It’s closed now, but even originally, it was difficult for ordinary people to enter.”
“Is there a reason for that?”
“Because the garden’s gate can only be opened by magical energy.”
The released magical energy was essentially the only key to opening the garden gate.
The problem was that few people had the ability to release such magical energy.
Of course, those with light-colored hair—so-called noble bloodlines—mostly had the talent to manipulate magic. But having talent did not always translate into results.
“If you wish to visit, please tell me. I will open the gate for you.”
“Can Sir Lindel also use magic?”
“Through a sword, yes.”
Of course, Lowell already knew this from the information Rene had given her.
‘He said his innate talent was considerable.’
Releasing magic through a sword is called sword energy, and those who can control it are called sword masters.
And Simoren was the youngest sword master.
Although sword energy could demonstrate immense power, using a tool to release magic was actually the most basic technique of magic manipulation.
‘Even with such talent, that’s all he’s achieved?’
This was not to underestimate Simoren—it was simply proof of how difficult it was to wield magic.
This was why, despite noble bloodlines having magical talent, very few could truly manipulate it.
‘Someone like me, born with black hair, could never dream of handling magic directly.’
Thus, Simoren didn’t even bother asking Lowell if she could use magic—of course she couldn’t.
Simoren had a similar reason for explaining the Conservatory to Lowell: she could never go alone, so he assumed he could control the secret.
“Thank you, Sir Lindel. I’ll tell you if I ever feel like visiting.”
And so, Lowell kept his trust. After all, she never intended to go together in the first place.
When Simoren first came to guard her, Lowell thought perhaps her misfortune had finally left.
She had two reasons for thinking her luck wasn’t bad. First, Simoren could become the key to uncovering Peter’s secret.
Second, Simoren was an easily manipulable type.
‘I was going to seek him out if needed, but he came to me.’
If it had been Noah instead of Simoren as her guard, she would not have obtained the secret so quickly.
‘The more rigid a person, once the frame is broken, it becomes easy.’
Especially since Simoren bore hostility toward “Anet.” That emotion was easy to manipulate.
A slight twist to break his guard made everything simple.
Simoren didn’t realize it, but during the days he guarded her, Lowell had been busy navigating the palace—not just for walks. She had been spinning a web.
She observed when the maids gathered for breaks, where they gathered, which paths she could take unnoticed, and how to get into their conversations.
Over several days, she calculated all of it, and a very fine prey was caught in her web.
Simoren Lindel—a very fine prey.
‘So this is the Conservatory.’
Lowell stood before a building that appeared, at first glance, to be an ordinary annex. The design prevented anyone outside from knowing its interior, and it even looked trivial. Clearly, it was made to hide from prying eyes.
‘And… this is the lock.’
Lowell placed her hand on a statue beside the building. Though it seemed ordinary, she could feel the preservation magic embedded in it. A truly ordinary statue would have no need for such magic—unless it were attacked repeatedly.
‘Simoren said he would open the gate with sword energy.’
Then it certainly wasn’t a normal lock. It wouldn’t have a slot for a key, and it had to withstand sword energy without revealing its mechanism. It had to be large and solid.
‘Well, I’ll find out by trying.’
Lowell raised her left hand. A bracelet with thin diamond-shaped gems jingled on her wrist. She plucked the largest, deepest blue gem from it.
Crack.
The sound of metal breaking rang out, and in an instant, the bracelet transformed into a short sword in her hand. Its distinctive feature: diamond-shaped gems decorating the hilt, with a single empty slot in the center.
Lowell placed the gem she had removed into the empty slot. It fit perfectly, as if it had always been there.
The dagger’s name was Todd. Jurgen had given it to her to teach her survival in Operta.
It was also a tool that allowed Lowell, with her black hair and zero talent for magic, to release magical energy.
‘I don’t know exactly how it works.’
She had heard vaguely that Todd forcibly extracted the user’s innate magical energy. Most who used it would suffer magic depletion and eventually die from it.
The legend of Todd causing a shortened lifespan came from this.
Yet for some reason, it seemed to suit Lowell; she had no major issues using it. In fact, after using Todd, her body felt lighter.
Kak-kang.
Todd grazed the statue lightly, and the heavy stone shifted with a grinding sound. But the noise did not come from the statue itself—it came from the door beyond.
The door, seamless from the outside, opened, and Lowell could finally enter the Conservatory as Simoren had described. As she stepped in, the door closed behind her with a thud.
It would have been logical to find a way out first, but now, standing before the garden, Lowell could think of nothing else.
“…This place.”
The Conservatory looked like the greenhouse of the Hessen estate had been relocated here entirely.
