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"As you say, it was my mistake to praise the servants who merely carried a heavy chair and carried out the orders before His Majesty the Emperor, who gave the order to bring in the chair…"

"I'm tired of hearing you criticize yourself so many times."

Instead of being upset, I felt a sense of crisis and just shut my mouth.

ﾟ· : * ✧ * :· ﾟ

A dimple slipped onto Raniero's cheek slightly.

He could see Angelica's eyes rolling with her mouth shut. Every time he would say, 'it's not fun,' 'boring,' or something along those lines, her head would get busy. He could also feel her intense tension at the same time. Although the answer was always quite plausible, the problem was that he could see everything she was thinking in her head.

Raniero grinned, fiddling with the scar on his lips that Angelica had left on him. His patience remained undisturbed, and she didn't make him wait long.

In an armchair that was too soft to sit properly, Angelica struggled to straighten her back and replied.

"Thank you."

It was a very simple word, similar to what he had heard in the garden yesterday.

Raniero's fingertips moved lightly. Somehow, he didn't like it. Perhaps, it was because of her strong feeling of 'saying what you were told to say.'

It was quite a strange thing.

It was peculiar. In the first place, Raniero Actilus had never given much thought to whether people's words were sincere or not. It didn't matter if it was fake because they had to obey him anyway. If the result was the same one way or another, there was no reason to reconsider and judge others' minds.

Besides, he wasn't the pathetic type of person who clung to sincerity. His instinct impelled him to point out the simple reply while a reason, which he knew well, whispered, 'does it matter?'

Raniero's fingertips formed on the wound and gently pulled the end of his hardened tip. He let the wound bother him just before the scabs peeled from his thin, sensitive skin and started bleeding again. Because of that, his lips were slightly swollen and burning.

Eventually, he turned to correspondence without saying anything to Angelica.

The office had become very quiet. Even if he didn't look, he could tell that Angelica was staring at him while holding her breath. She was concerned that her own remarks may have offended him.

As expected, it was something he didn't like.

Raniero's hand ripped the envelope with a bit of annoyance. A thick envelope engraved with a luxurious stamp was torn as easily as rice paper. He hadn't even checked where it was sent from. Opening the letter with a slight frown on that straight brow, only then did he know the source…

…Temple of Tunia.

It was a temple in the barren land of the northwest without an owner, facing the border with the Actilus Empire. Who would take care of such a land? Unless it was the followers of the foolish God of Mercy.

God of Mercy yielded all the fertile land in the world to others, leaving only the roughest for their children. The small force promoting 'mercy' wasn't like Raniero. The cause of tension between the Actilus Empire, which bordered the southeast, and the Kingdom of Sombinia, which bordered the southwest.

He then read the letter in annoyance.

It was basically asking for help.

Of course, he wouldn't respond to this letter. Raniero flicked it without even folding it. The letter that the high priest of the Temple of Tunia must have written with all his heart was mercilessly thrown on the floor.

Since then, he had opened and read a few more of his letters, like a child would open a package of cookies. Among them, he picked out the ones to give a brief answer and put them on one side as they would be enough to have the servants send a reply.

According to the Emperor's dislike of troublesome work, the things that came up to his office were the only ones that had been filtered once from the bottom. So, there wasn't much to see.

After roughly sorting out the last letter, Raniero turned around.

It was to see Angelica's face.

However, his expression became strange. As the summer sun that fell on the back of her head was quite hot, Angelica fell asleep with her face on her knees. The armchair swayed slightly as she breathed. Her hair, like a pink rose mixed with gray, was soft and smooth.

'Did she fall asleep in the meantime?'

As if it was a lie that she was so anxious…?

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