If only it had rained.

Elizaveta turned her gaze away, lightly blaming the clear sky.

Prichenkaya was welcoming spring. In Krasilov, spring was merely “a slightly less cold winter,” and the outer roads, made muddy by the awful rasputitsa, had turned into slush.

Still, it was spring nonetheless. The gray sky was disappearing, and little by little, the weather was clearing up.

Because of that.

“Your Majesty. Lieutenant Colonel Dmitri Cherkatov is here to report.”

“Let him… come in.”

Without rain, there was no way to hide her face.

“Your Majesty. I, Dmitri Cherkatov, report my return.”

“I’ve… already received the report. There was no need for you to come here yourself…”

“As the person in charge, I must report to Your Majesty directly.”

“Who in this world has more responsibility than you in this matter?”

Dmitri smiled wearily from his wheelchair. Elizabeta staggered as she stood up and walked toward Dmitri, who was quietly sitting by the door of the chancellor’s office.

“I, Dmitri Cherkatov, and my total of three subordinates, have returned.”

“…You yourself….”

Unlike the dry words laid out in the report, the survival report of the loyal subject who had lost both legs was enough to crumble Elizabeta’s body.

At that moment, she staggered and leaned on the table. A nearby maid rushed over to support her.

“What face do you have to …?”

“Your Majesty.”

Elizabeta’s blue eyes gradually clouded over. Drip, drip. Moisture fell onto the wooden table.

The attendants and guards hurriedly turned their heads. The King of Krasilov could not show tears in front of anyone, not even under God.

However, Dmitri said, without turning his face away from her, even while bowing his head.

“Your Majesty. Do not insult their deaths.”

“…Lieutenant Colonel Dmitri Cherkatov….”

“They did not die by Your Majesty’s orders. Not at all. We, my subordinates and I, and our senior… Colonel Ivan Petrovich Yeremov, did not go to our doom by Your Majesty’s command.”

It is different from that time.

It is different from the time when they had to go to their doom under Alexander’s command.

Believing so, and saying so.

“We have saved the world. We lived our lives as sinners who could not leave a mark in history, yet in that moment, we became the righteous as we walked towards our own demise. Your Majesty, please smile.”

Elizaveta raised her head. Dmitri’s face came into view.

With tears streaming down his face, he struggled to lift the corners of his mouth into a smile.

“On that day, we finally shone brilliantly.”

He placed the box he had brought on the table and stepped back.

Elizaveta’s trembling hand opened the small wooden box. Inside, a hand preserved with chemicals was wrapped in silk.

It was a man’s hand with prominent veins. Not rough, but elegant. And it was a right hand with a thick ring on the index finger.

She took the thick, black ring off the finger. It was a seal ring with the crest of Krasilov engraved on it. And it was, in itself, like an imperial seal.

It could seal all royal orders with wax. A long-standing relic of the royal family.

Elizaveta slowly slipped the ring onto her finger. The enchanted ring shrank perfectly to fit her ring finger.

“Congratulations, Your Majesty. Long live Krasilov.”

“Long live Krasilov!!”

The attendants and the knight commander shouted simultaneously.

Alexander was officially dead, and having severed nearly all of Krasilov’s royal blood during his lifetime, now only the princess held the exclusive and legitimate claim to the throne of this country.

Therefore, even though she had already wielded immense power, she had now effectively eliminated all internal sources of instability. No great noble could question her legitimacy anymore.

“The final objective of Lieutenant Colonel Ivan Petrovich Yeremov’s operation was the capture and execution of the former heir, Alexander Kirilovich Krasilov, Your Majesty.”

“I am aware.”

Elizaveta turned her body toward the window. Looking at the clear sky, she spoke after a moment.

“What about Banka?”

“Due to the absence of healing magic, he is receiving treatment from the doctors. It was concluded that he is overworked, but when he will awaken is uncertain.”

“Is that so?”

Elizaveta leaned against the window frame, gazing at the bright daylight of Prichenkaya.

“The funeral will be a national one. Incorporate the names of all those who should have been forgotten until now. We will hold the most magnificent funeral in this country. This is my first royal decree as the King of Krasilov.”

“I’m ready to obey the royal command.”

“Clear the throne. There will be no coronation. Now that the harsh winter is over, I do not wish for my unworthy father to gaze upon the same sky as I do any longer.”

“It will be done as Your Majesty wishes.”

The one with the authority to command had always been her. All administrative bodies of this country operated under her sanction.

However, from this day forth, the name to be inscribed at the end of the orders will be that of the Great King of Krasilov, not the princess.

“It seems I will be busy from now on.”

The political situation is extremely precarious, the countries of the United Kingdom have been ravaged by civil wars and disasters, and the national system of the homeland remains in jeopardy.

There are many responsibilities to fulfill as a king. One is sufficiently occupied with returning the country to the right track.

Thus,

“I am too busy to love someone.”

Beginning another day like any other, having breakfast with a loved one, greeting the day with tea, strolling through the streets, occasionally admiring flowers and fallen leaves, finishing the day while gazing at the same sunset.

Such ordinary love is impossible. The most important thing for a ruler is the country, its security, and the future of the nation.

The narrative that all power gathers in one person means that this individual must directly intervene in every matter of state.

The essence of power lies in that. The act of stamping a seal, the right to oversee and coordinate all issues. An irreplaceable core institution in the machinery known as a nation.

She had to embrace this if she was not going to share this power with someone else. She was a ruler who abused herself with overwork to establish the foundations of power.

“However, Dmitri Cherkatov, it is too hard not to love.”

She tightly gripped the window sill. Looking down at the small ring on her white hand. The black signet ring sparkling on her ring finger.

To the man who brought her everything of this country.

To this man who charged through danger and risked his life to cut away her only weakness without command.

“How could I not love him?”

At her words, Dmitri chuckled and lowered his head.

“Are you planning to move the residence of the high treason criminal?”

“The reason I cherish you is that you understand my intentions far too well before I give any orders.”

“I have been serving Your Majesty for over ten years.”

“Do as you will. I can no longer stand to see a high treason criminal frolicking outside of his own hands. The punishment will be imprisonment, with the execution site being his own bedroom, and the term of imprisonment…”

Looking back at Dmitri, Elizaveta smiled lightly.

“I shall take it as the remainder of my life.”

“I receive your orders.”

EP32. An Ordinary Spring in Krasilov.

“…So, did you say Uncle suddenly moved the ward?”

“Yes, oh dear, what can I do? It’s a royal command. You know, we’re all public servants. If the king says to do it, what can we do?”

“….”

Isabel bit her lips as she glared at Dmitri, who was lying in a single room, chuckling.

In response to her fierce expression, Dmitri shrugged and indicated the place where his legs used to be.

“I’m a patient, you know? A rather serious one at that.”

“Can I just hit you once?”

“Hold on, Bella.”

Ecdysis put down the instrument and sat glumly in a chair.

This was clearly the hospital room that said Ivan Petrovich Yeremov, but when she came in, there was an uncle with a snake-like appearance sitting there without a lower body.

She began to hum mournfully.

“To save these people, I need a lot of uncles…”

“What a revitalizing visit, everyone.”

Dmitri replied with a grin.

“Just give up already. I’ve been cheering for you all as much as I could, you know? But what can I do? The person I cheer for the most is our Majesty.”

“Alright, now the distinction is clear.”

“That’s good. Wars always begin with that.”

As Dmitri smirked, Isabel’s brows furrowed deeply.

“What exactly do you want? Sharing such information… There’s no need for that.”

“Hmmm… I don’t know. I just want someone I respect to be happy, but even after seeing them for a lifetime, I still don’t quite know how they can be happy. I have a very curious job, so what can I do? I guess I have to find out myself.”

Dmitri finished speaking with a wave of his hands.

“So I’ll gather as many as possible to test it out. Now go do your tasks. Time is short, isn’t it?”

It seems like that person, who has spent a lifetime in winter, might face a spring someday.

If there are many candidates, isn’t there a chance that one of them holds spring?

Isabel was a sensible person, so she wasn’t particularly surprised to find herself in the situation of being a “party companion” kidnapped by a “lascivious high noble.”

After all, isn’t such a story far too common? In the cultural powerhouse of Tylesse, this was already an outdated topic. (It mainly appeared in adult-oriented novels.)

Therefore, after quickly assessing the situation, she picked up her sword and chalk instead of succumbing to rage and horror.

“Ah, this familiar sensation.”

One by one, those who had been lazing around during vacation started to gather.

Surveying the solid potential competitors gathered in the club room, she spoke grimly.

“It’s time to return to the Hero Party.”

[Protecting the Princess’s Purity from the Demon King]

Eugene pressed his forehead as he looked at the bold letters written on the chalkboard.

“Everyone, we are now second-year students. We are adults.”

“So we’ve reached an age even more suitable for monitoring adult materials.”

“Exactly!”

“Where’s the party withdrawal application?”

“I want to leave too. Humans are just vulgar.”