Ett bowed, remaining quiet.

"I'm curious about the Dowager's reason for visiting me rather than seeking help from Akan."

The unexpected sight of the Dowager's presence briefly had Guren taken aback, though he swiftly regained his composure.

This royal cave woman who stays inside her canary sought him for the first time. His mind churned with inquiry, pondering the underlying motives driving her to seek him out directly.

Is it eliminating another empire or massacring another province? The atmosphere was chilly, making Ett feel the seriousness of her visit.

"I'll just come back, Your Majesty."

Meanwhile, Ett was thinking of other things as she glanced at the papers on Guren's desk before looking away.

She didn't have that much of a workload when she was studying in her elementary years. 25 to 50 books must be drilled into her mind before another batch.

Observing the scene, Ett

reminisces an image of her younger self in her room, tears streaming down her face, a runny nose, and struggling with her studies. This moment marked the onset of her initial feelings of despair and depression associated with the learning process. Reflecting on this lifestyle, it becomes clear why she lacks social skills and friends. Comparatively, Guren'ss situation was even more challenging than hers. Despite this realization, Ett doesn't find any sense of relief.

"That."

"Hm?"

Guren looked at the papers piled up on his table. Does her mother look down on him? Tsk.

"This is nothing."

See, for a child to say it's nothing, that's depressing.

"It must be worth the empire's survival, seeing as the Dowager came in person to discuss it."

Is that sarcasm, my boy? You see, it's not like that.

I want to see and communicate with the so-called villain of the novel for just a moment. And it is not worth the empire's survival for you…but mine. Exclusively mine.

"What does mother want to say?"

A cold and direct question. "You may raise your head."

"Alrig--"

Hoo. This close up.

She was immediately captivated by Guren's presence.

Despite Guren's seemingly frigid demeanour, his viridian eyes exuded a radiant, captivating, and unperturbed charm.

A jewel worth a thousand painite, no blue stone can compare, nor gold and silver are nothing but ashes.

It's just that this jewel… underneath his eyes feels like he was born as a panda. How much more does this little guy's brain motor can handle? If this happens more often, what about the next banquets that would occur? His time management and organization skills are more invested in his imperial work, and he doesn't even know that the people capable of assistance, even to the most minor task, exist.

What if this is a route where he dies from overwork or the cause of him being more tyrannical?

Then what will happen to her too? Who knows who will take advantage of such a situation in this desolate place? Who is genuinely trusted? Ett's son is her only golden thigh, and she must secretly hug him. The and only golden thigh.

Ett reflected on the implications of this situation happening more frequently, unaware of other concerns.

On the other hand, Guren was also staring at the Ett, who was still silent, staring at him with a pallid expression. He realized her mother was in a daze. The more he observed her face, the more he was convinced.

This mother of his had more colour to her skin than the last time he saw her. Guren wondered for a moment what her reason was to slowly gain this colour of life. Then would she become more doltish then?

"Have a seat, Dowager."

He told her mother out of basic courtesy.

In the distant past, where he gradually realized and learned more about everything and the empires, Guren's heart harboured an intense loathing toward his lineage.

The feelings of disdain extended to his mother, his grandfather, the very empire he would rule, and even its inhabitants. Such emotions ran deep within his veins, leading him to yearn for their downfall, to the point of wishing their lives would cease to exist.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

A cold empire.

As time elapsed, he didn't care anymore and became indifferent to it. Or was it he accepted it in his soul and became a true Adiand?

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

The boss said that even if you want to leave, you can't. Blame it on your wrong timing.

After they were seated, Guren kept muted and simply glanced at her.

"Allow me to present this plan to you."

Ett coughed and handed him the meticulously organized papers.

Her calm before the storm.

"I suppose you wouldn't stop having balls and banquets after this?"

Ett asked, to which Guren did not respond, only taking the papers and skimming the content. Only when he was finished reading everything did he try to speak.

"Judging by your plan, we have the same trail of thought."

In the Dowager's plan, the Emperor would grant anyone for over three months free entry to use the ballroom as they wished. After that, it will be closed until further notice is declared. The balls that were listed in this paper are also agreeable to him.

Only some can host the party, too. Specifically, one in every faction: Imperial, Noble and Neutral Faction.

Of course, you wouldn't think that's all of it.

"How many balls would His Majesty permit within the three months?"

"Three is enough."

Ett has no qualms with it. The balls would be extraordinarily extravagant and well thought out since they will be held in the Imperial Hall, where it's rare to have a lease. It represents honor and prestige as well.

"What families do you have in mind?"

Ett asked.

"I don't have qualms with your suggested three nobles."

Ett marked the Paralian Duchy, Count Ecluss' Household, and Baron Zalore.

One hailed from a noble lineage, another from a neutral background, and the last hailed from the imperial section. The selection process was conducted carefully, given that these families had highly regarded and distinguished daughters widely known throughout the country for their achievements and elegance.

"Just this?"

Asked Guren.

Just this, and you dare to come by your own? That is what Ett could hear.

"

"That's good enough. Then…”

They exchanged a few words before ending their discussion shortly after.

"Is that all that the Dowager has come for?"

"There is one thing, Your Majesty. The plan would be set," Ett made slight eye contact with Guren, looking at each other's eyes with a downturn look. "Treat the other agenda tight."

As the ball approaches, their hidden agenda with other people will remain the same as their current discussion.

"Mm."

Guren crumpled the paper and threw it in the fireplace. Ett also nodded, intending to go back.

"And the Duke of Valharam,"

Ett gave Guren a look. "He's mine."

"Certainly."

Guren tersely replied. Ah, so that's what you've come for. It's not like he would do something with the Duke of Valharam. It's his mother's business. He doesn't care about such a dead person.

"Then this Dowager shall not trouble you anymore."

That's it?

Guren nodded. "May you dream a dreamless sleep, Dowager."

Right, that's the odd way of saying good night. Believing a dreamless sleep is better. Wishing the person a peaceful rest without disturbances caused by dreams, whether good or bad. A calm dream with no ripples of even a pebble falling into one's mind.

Erm. I don't want to say it back.

"Emperor."

Ett snapped a side a glance only to see him recontinuing his work.

Guren won't sleep, huh?

"Hmm?"

Guren felt annoyed seeing his mother still looking at him instead of leaving.

Ett had always meant to ask him, "Were you always this mature?"

"???"

What does this woman say? Was he always this mature?

"Such a foolish question."

Such a simple question, is there a need to answer?

Instead, Guren asked, "Ask yourself when you were like me."

Ett, "…"

I don't know. I was not your mother before then.

“…”

Children learn first from those they first met and stayed with the longest, like their parents, and learn from them. If not, their internal surroundings, then their external surroundings.

The Adiand bloodline was indeed a pitiful line—no wonder they aren't truly loved and treated well but with fear by their people, while the other side of the coin is being just like them.

If she arrived at an earlier time, would it change? Sigh. Of course not. Maybe, if somebody else not her.

Ett should have just buried down the ludicrous question that is obvious to her. If she apologizes now, that won't do any good, and her role forbids her to do so. Comforting words might annoy him out of sympathy, and pity only raises his distaste. She lacked the courage to do it.

"Alright."

That's the only thing she can utter. It's not even comforting; it's short and crisp.

"Then I'll take my leave, Your Majesty."

Ett curtsied gracefully and then proceeded to close the door behind her.

That's it. Thank you for your time.