The Empror's Trap

Uheya carefully read the imperial edict, then paused in thought.

"This isn't just telling you to go fight, right? It's also hinting at the marriage thing. What's the big deal? Doesn't seem weird to me."

Uheya found it puzzling.

Emperors did love their mind games, sure—but this decree was really just a reminder to Kenji. She didn't see any issue with it.

"But wait, I never even brought up marriage! We haven't even started talking about it yet!"

Kenji frowned in confusion.

"You didn't randomly bring up marriage with her, did you?" Uheya eyed him skeptically.

Kenji had many virtues, but one flaw stood out: when he got too focused on something, he'd forget everything else.

Like, say, joking with you while working, only to forget the joke entirely moments later.

So Uheya's first thought was: Did this idiot already talk to the emperor about marriage and just forgot?

"Impossible. Marriage is a big deal—I'd remember that." Kenji was confident in his memory.

"Either way, whether you mentioned it or not, the emperor's message is clear: this marriage is on the table. Whether you've talked about it or not, you need to act like it's happening. Either reject the alliance outright, or accept it. But after the war, you have to give her a definite answer."

Uheya explained.

Honestly, if this were any ordinary girl, she'd tell Kenji to stall—see if she was serious first. But this was the emperor.

You think you can keep the emperor hanging? You want to die or get immortalized in the history books?

Considering Kenji's power, Uheya thought he had another option: flat-out refusal. Even if he said no, Pluvia couldn't retaliate—as long as he didn't humiliate her publicly.

But either way, no stalling after the war.

This was for their emotional well-being too. The longer an uncertain relationship dragged on, the worse the fallout. Luckily, Pluvia had given Kenji time—enough to decide during the campaign.

"But is this really safe? You know how good the Emperor is at setting traps and… fishing expeditions."

"Fishing expeditions?"

"Yeah. Like deliberately luring someone into wrongdoing just to punish them." Kenji explained.

He couldn't shake his unease. He knew Pluvia too well—she wouldn't act against him now, but this sudden move felt suspicious.

"Huh. You do get emperors, in a way," Uheya smirked. "Too bad you don't get women. Or her kind of woman, at least."

"I feel like you're mocking me."

"Drop the 'I feel like.' Be confident." Uheya waved her hand. "She's the Emperor. If she's issuing this decree, she's already decided. Emperors are emperors, but when two people are equals in power, this kind of message means you need to decide too. Reject her, accept her—but don't leave her hanging."

"For both your sake and hers, Kenji, I'm telling you: give her an answer after the war. Otherwise, it'll backfire on you. As a friend, that's all I've got to say."

With that, Uheya sipped her steaming milk tea. "I've said my piece. Your call. Want some? I just had it brewed."

"Sure."

Kenji was curious. He remembered how much Uheya loved milk tea—back home, it was a daily staple.

She poured him a full cup, the tea still hot, its creamy aroma filling the air.

Kenji blew on it, then took a gulp.

Instantly, rich milk tea, and a strong gamy taste hit him. He winced. But the real shock…

This is… salty?!

"Can't handle it, huh? This is the real taste," Uheya grinned. "Back home, we drink this."

"That's not what I remember! When I visited, your milk tea wasn't like this!" Kenji was baffled.

He'd tasted sweet or unsweetened tea back then. Since when did Sal people drink salty milk tea?

"You're a Camelot native—we adjusted for you. We knew you'd hate the real stuff," Uheya shrugged. "Salty tea's a luxury here. Most Camelotians can't stomach it. So yeah, what you're drinking now? That's the authentic Sal milk tea."

"Ugh, tastes weird."

"Really? I'd feel weak without it." Uheya downed her cup, leaning forward. "So, tell me—how much is Camelot willing to pay for the war in Samanjiang?"

She'd been bored lately, so she'd been keeping tabs. Camelot's war preparations were obvious—no way she'd miss that. Add today's edict, and the invasion was locked in.

Not a military secret, of course. She didn't care about the details.

"Depends on the nation's strength. Whatever Camelot can afford."

Kenji said… and said nothing.

"So secretive! Not even a hint? I'm so bored. Give me something juicy to entertain me."

"After the war, I'll have time. But I can't tell you anything—even if it's not classified." Kenji stood firm.

They were close friends, but Uheya was still a hostage from Sal Kingdom. He couldn't risk leaking military info.

"Fine, new question," Uheya sighed, dropping the topic. "Kenji… as a friend—do you ever think about taking her place?"

"What?!"

Kenji scanned the room, relieved to find no one else. "What are you implying?"

"Exactly what I said. You've built up this much power—haven't you ever thought about replacing her? Don't tell me you've given up. You're not that kind of person."

To Uheya, Kenji had always carried a magnetic, yet dangerous charm. While others were still playing games, he had already mapped out his future—and even planned for his own downfall. His ambition was razor-sharp; though he never spoke of it, Uheya had once been certain his goal was the throne itself.

But now, that danger seemed muted. Rarely did he show that edge anymore. Uheya had assumed someone with his power would never settle for complacency. His hunger for authority had always burned hotter than most. Yet here he was, calm and detached, as if his past obsession with power had been nothing more than a fleeting dream.

"Taking her place…?" Kenji let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Uheya, do you know how close I've become to the throne? The closer I get, the heavier it feels. I once told you I wanted to reshape Camelot into my vision—but being a good emperor is harder than I imagined. The late emperor ruled with authority because war masked so many unresolved crises. That was a debt, and now someone has to repay it."

"Her Majesty is paying that debt now. To put it bluntly, I've seen a ruler who's sacrificed everything. When I first met her, she was still a child—barely recognizable compared to who she is now. Sometimes I wonder… if I took this seat, would I become someone unrecognizable too?"

"So you've betrayed your own oath?" Uheya asked.

"No. I've just found a different path," Kenji replied, oddly optimistic. "I may not be emperor, but I still have the power to fulfill my promises. I'll keep fighting to change Camelot—just not by taking the throne."

"Heh~ You're ditching our grand ambitions and leaving me behind?" Uheya teased, though she wasn't truly offended.

"If you still want to follow that road, I'll help," Kenji said, casually adding a spoonful of sugar to his tea. He took a sip.

Hah. Even weirder now.

Uheya's smile faltered for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing complicated. If you ever hit a wall, tell me. I'll lend a hand."

He twirled the spoon, watching her with a quiet smile.

Uheya studied him, finally understanding: That danger never left. He just redirected it.

"Unrealistic. I don't need your help—not anymore. I'm here in Camelot to study, and they've treated me well. If I choose, I can stay here forever, living in comfort. There's nothing left for me to ask of you."

Kenji didn't interrupt as she continued.

"I'm grateful for your offer, but I probably won't use it. Maybe someday I'll ask for small favors, but those won't be a problem for you." She steadied her thoughts before finishing.

"Uheya, whether it's big or small, I'll help. But I won't decide for you. That choice is yours."

She understood his meaning—but Kenji knew she'd likely never take him up on it.

"Kenji, let's be honest. I have my own ambitions, and I'm not fully satisfied with my current position. But just as you keep your public and private life separate, so do I. As a friend, I'd welcome your help. But as a princess of Sal, I can't let outsiders interfere in our affairs. I'm sure Camelotians understand that."

She looked out the window, her gaze distant, as if seeing her homeland.

Kenji smiled. "I know. That's why I said I won't decide for you. You're right—Camelot wouldn't want outsiders meddling in our business either."

"But my offer stands. If you ever need help, just say the word. I'll do what I can."

With that, he stood to leave.

This outcome wasn't unexpected. The old Kenji—the one who could bond with Uheya over ruthless scheming—had always hinted at her own sharpness. Like him, she'd fight dirty, sacrifice her reputation, but she had a line: No foreign interference in her family's affairs.

So Kenji hadn't expected to convince her today.

But for Camelot, her refusal didn't matter. Sal Kingdom's days were numbered. Camelot had tolerated its instability long enough. For now, bigger priorities came first, and the Sal territories weren't worth the trouble. Supporting Uheya's rise was the best move—a stable border was more valuable than swallowing a nation whole.

If she kept refusing, Camelot would eventually turn north after the western war. A full-scale invasion—permanent this time. Hard to swallow? Harder than letting Sal Kingdom keep raiding their borders.

"I'll walk you out. It's been a while since you visited," Uheya said, adjusting her robes.

They parted at the door.

…

…..

Back at Spring Peace Palace, Lina greeted Kenji with urgency.

"Young Master, I was just looking for you. The envoy from the Western Country has arrived—they insist on seeing you."

Kenji understood immediately. "Take me to them. Where are they?"

"In the study."

"Let's go."

As expected, the Western Country had finally cracked.