"An imperial messenger? The Empress's?"

As he entered the ducal estate, Luke could not believe his ears.

'I can't believe my sister contacted me first! It's never happened before!

Did something happen, Sister? Is something wrong?'

Luke knew that his father, the Duke of Ceiard, did not have a pleasant personality—in fact, he had a rather harsh temper, and Medea adopted this trait because of the Emperor's treatment towards her.

His letters requesting a meeting were unanswered and sent back, and when there was an answer, it was that she was too busy.

Luke did not know precisely how the Duke and Duchess treated Medea because he left home for his intense education during his early childhood.

He only knew to obey the Emperor's command and uphold the Empress' family's dignity with his father.

Luke, who had developed a fantasy about the Duchess, who remained only as a portrait to him, longed for Medea, who was said to have resembled her.

Luke was delighted that he finally had a chance to meet Medea and said,

"Any day will do because my sister asked for it first! No. Right Now–!"

"Lord."

The butler held Luke back, who was readying to run to the Imperial Palace.

Medea was the Empress of the Empire before she was a sister. Even if Luke was the dukedom's son and heir, the Imperial Palace wasn't a place where you couldn't go in and out at will unless you received an invitation and made an appointment in advance.

"I'm sure the Empress has a schedule. I understand that you are happy, but a messenger is awaiting your response, so please write a reply and send it."

At the butler's words, Luke paused and blushed.

"Yes, I suppose... Well. Since you are the Empress, you must be busier than I am. Wait a minute."

Luke strode to the nearest office.

He picked up his sharpest quill, dipped it in ink, and smoothly wrote a reply in his finest handwriting. Luke, who had finished inscribing and sealed it well to prevent the ink from spreading and left the office shortly afterward.

"Deliver this promptly. We must not keep the Empress waiting."

"Yes, young master."

The courier took the letter from Luke. In the courtyard of the messenger immediately climbed onto his horse and exited the duke's residence.

Luke's hopeful chest swelled with anticipation as he watched the carrier ride away.

He didn't know how soon Medea would reply, but he was already brimming with anticipation and eagerness.

The day was completely dark, and his work became quiet.

Lyle left his office and headed to the Empress's Palace, reasoning that there was no need to delay his arrival any longer.

He assumed things would go smoothly and peacefully because he had promised to sleep in the palace in advance.

However, when he arrived, the palace was noisier than ever.

"What's the fuss?"

At Lyle's scheduled visit, the maids and servants fretted.

It was not uncommon to see servants and maids scrambling and rushing about, but even the guards' complexion paled.

"I asked what's this fuss about."

Lyle frowned at them, annoyed that they did not speak up, and instead simply glanced at each other.

A woman stepped forward, shaking. She was one of the maids attending Medea.

"Her Majesty, the Empress.... is gone."

She explained that Medea, who hurriedly insisted on touring the Empress's Palace at one point, completely disappeared.

'She disappeared? Does that make sense?'

Medea was the Empress. Because of her affinity for accidents, more than ten maids attended her. The same was the case when she was in a room, and even more maids followed to attend to Medea when she left a room. In fact, Medea was only alone if she was in her own bedroom and specifically ordered her maids to leave and after much hassle.

'Don't tell me... she ran away again?'

As soon as he thought about it, his heart became cool.

'I promised to stop by at night, so you must be trying to avoid me. This is not the first time we have spent the night together after losing your memories—Why?!'

It was like throwing oil on his burning heart that he had just managed to calm down.

'I can't believe she did this on the very same day she asked for a divorce and said that she wished she could remarry afterwards!'

Lyle was beyond furious. His confusion further amplified his wrath. He did not know why his heart was burning with fury.

Lyle looked back at the frightened courtiers, who saw a bit of madness flash through his eyes.

"Where was the Empress last seen?"

'You're not going to look here.'

Medea returned to her bedroom, with no one the wiser. She wasn't thinking of sleeping with Lyle, so she didn't go to her bed.

Medea instead hid in the dressing room attached to her bedroom, inside the largest wardrobe in the room. No one would think to look here. They were searching for an adult, not a child.

She figured if Lyle did come by at night and didn't find her and left, yes, he would get angry. But it was Lyle. The male protagonist. Lyle never pushed Medea into jail or did anything harsh. Because he was the male protagonist in this novel.

'By the way... ... This is really an incredibly huge wardrobe cabinet.'

It was so massive that even when an adult like Medea could stretch out both feet and arms and it's walls barely touched her fingertips and toes.

'Well, it's because the dresses are big too. You need large furniture like this.'

Medea laid down on the floor of her wardrobe chest, looking up at the lace and ornaments on the dresses.

In a typical home, this chest's bottom floor would be crowded with items, like shoes, bags...

Well, in a typical home, there was no such thing as such a large wardrobe.

She was about to die from boredom playing and striking the lace hem of her dress with her fingertips when she heard a loud disturbance.

'Huh?'

The door of the dressing room opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps approached her.

It stopped in front of the wardrobe where Medea was hiding.