Eldest SS7

Side Story 7.

“Duke Belladi Alton, Lord Meldor Alton. Good afternoon.”

After a brief greeting, Hera carefully continued.

“I’ve come, risking impropriety, upon hearing that Lady Nesia will soon return to the country.”

“The Crown Princess’s visit is always welcome here.”

At Belladi’s words, Meldor nodded as well.

“Nesia will be delighted too, I’m sure.”

Hera smiled warmly at the kind words of the Alton siblings.

Belladi, watching Hera as she sat across from her, was suddenly swept by a wave of memories.

“You’ve grown so much.”

“Pardon?”

“It doesn’t feel all that long ago since you sat there watching me work…”

At these words, Hera’s cheeks turned a shade redder.

“Now that you mention it, it is the exact same seat. I didn’t even think of it when I sat down.”

Back in her childhood, when Hera’s confidence was at its lowest, she had once watched Belladi working as the acting head of the house.

Sitting just like this on the sofa, she had watched Belladi, charismatic and authoritative as she discussed matters and issued orders to her subordinates.

What an incredible shock and inspiration Belladi had been to her back then.

‘That feeling is still so vivid, even now.’

Hera shyly fiddled with the teacup in her hands.

“To this day, Duke Alton is someone I deeply admire.”

“You flatter me.”

Belladi smiled knowingly.

Beside her, Meldor nodded as if the sentiment were only natural.

The three of them chatted amiably for a while, until Belladi spoke in her usual unhurried tone.

“Still, there are a few days left before Nesia returns. Your Highness has come rather early.”

“That’s true. And you’ll be staying at our estate until her arrival, you said?”

As Meldor added his question, Hera sighed, taking a sip of tea before setting the cup down.

Tap—

“To tell you the truth…”

Having said this, Hera sighed once more.

Heeew—

That deep exhale seemed to give voice to her troubled heart.

“I’ve run away from home to avoid my illustrious brother.”

At this, Belladi raised one brow and Meldor’s eyes sparkled.

“Has His Majesty been troubling you?”

“Meldor.”

“Ahem!”

Caught by his sister, Meldor cleared his throat awkwardly, but Hera simply nodded, expression unruffled.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“…Pardon? Truly?”

“Oh my.”

At Hera’s straightforward reply, Belladi straightened in her seat.

“Speak freely, Your Highness.”

“To be honest, I don’t want to speak ill of my brother in front of you, Duke.”

“It’s all right, Your Highness. Where else but here could you vent about His Majesty?”

Sensing an opportunity, Meldor chimed in, giving Hera courage.

‘Right, this isn’t the palace, where one always has to behave like an adult.’

Returning to her own age for a moment, Hera began to spill the frustrations that had built up inside her.

“To be honest, when my brother first handed me ‘The Principled Ruler’, I thought he’d written it solely for my sake.”

At this, Meldor flashed a questioning look as if to ask what that was.

Belladi, finding it hard to explain that Killian had created history’s greatest digest on kingship, merely signaled with a gesture that it existed.

Unaware of their silent exchange, Hera continued.

“So I did my best to live up to his expectations… But all he ever said was ‘you can do more’, ‘that’s good, but try a little harder.’ Always pushing for more.”

“Tut tut.”

“Oh, dear.”

“That’s when I finally realized—he’d written that guide and encouraged me so insistently only because he wanted to abdicate as soon as possible.”

“…”

“Knew it.”

Belladi shut her mouth, feeling a slight pang of guilt. Meldor stole a glance at his sister, then shook his head in feigned dismay.

“My father himself was vexed, saying he’d never seen a royal in all his days so desperate not to be king. He said his generation fought and killed for the throne.”

As she said this, Hera paused.

“Of course… It’s not as if there wasn’t bloodshed in our generation, too. My father realized as much and apologized soon after.”

At these words, Belladi was reminded for a moment of someone whose name she now barely recalled.

There was once a fool who turned back time just to become emperor. But he was a loser, not worth remembering, so instead of straining to recall his name, Belladi turned her focus back to Hera.

“Anyway, once I understood my brother’s true motives, I couldn’t help but feel a little hurt… But I tried not to show it. And yet, he only became more insistent.”

Hera muttered in the most sincere voice.

“He’s a real nag. All he does is nag, nag, nag. I can’t stand hearing it anymore.”

“Pfft!”

Meldor couldn’t help but laugh at Hera’s dark mutter, but quickly glanced at Belladi for her reaction.

Belladi just let out a quiet sigh and took a sip of her tea.

“His Majesty has truly made things difficult for you, Your Highness. Allow me to apologize on his behalf.”

“Oh, no! It’s not like I don’t understand why my brother so desperately wants to hand me the throne.”

Hera waved her hands, answering quickly.

“I want to see your wedding sooner, too.”

At this, Meldor’s face soured as if he’d bitten into something foul, but Hera didn’t notice.

“Now that my coming-of-age ceremony is so near, I wanted to rebel against him one last time before it’s too late. Because once I become emperor… I won’t be able to anymore.”

Cautiously, Hera looked at Belladi.

“In a way, I’m using you for my rebellion, Duke.”

“That’s all right. I’m happy to play my part in Your Highness’s little revolt.”

“That hardly counts as rebellion. When I went through a rough patch as a teenager, I got in so much trouble with my sister I still remember it.”

At Meldor’s words, Hera nodded.

“I can picture that, Lord Meldor.”

“…Wait. That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.”

Her easy agreement left Meldor looking a little bewildered.

Belladi smiled at the two of them before turning back to Hera.

“I never thought Killian was so strict with you. Where would you ever find a more reliable heir than Your Highness? You’ve truly done well.”

Hearing a word of recognition and comfort from her long-held role model, Hera was deeply moved.

She bowed her head with a joyful smile.

“Thank you for understanding, Duke.”

“Does His Majesty know that you’ve run away?”

“Probably? I haven’t told him, but I did meet with Duke Fredo.”

Mostyn, no doubt…

‘Then there’s no need to send word right now.’

She was planning to meet Killian tonight anyway.

A sly smile crept onto Belladi’s lips.

“Hera.”

At the familiar form of address, Hera’s eyes widened slightly.

“Y-yes?”

“Shall I scold him for you?”

“Who…?”

“Your brother. Killian Allerman Decadille.”

It took a second for Hera, glowing at the sound of her name from Belladi’s lips, to process the question.

Suddenly, Hera’s face lit up.

“Yes, please, Sister!”

“Of course. It’s my job to look after my sister-in-law-to-be.”

At those words, Hera’s cheeks flushed as red as her hair.

Beside her, Meldor grumbled sourly.

“Tch, and they’re not even married yet.”

But no one paid him any heed. Meldor found himself missing their father, the only other person who might have shared his outlook.

---

Thanks to Belladi’s hospitality, Hera was in high spirits, allowed to stay several days at the Alton family residence.

‘Good, everything’s going according to plan.’

In fact, although she hadn’t told Belladi…

Hera had another motive for her escape.

‘Since the Duke called me “sister-in-law,” the wedding must be right around the corner!’

Whether Killian was lost in solitary anguish or not, level-headed Hera was already thinking ahead, all the way to her own coronation.

Which meant she had to be even busier.

‘I want to be the one to fit the Duke’s… I mean, my new sister-in-law’s evening dress.’

The wedding dress for the ceremony itself, of course, was always prepared by the couple.

But the evening dress for the reception afterward was usually presented as a congratulatory gift from friends or close acquaintances.

Hera was determined to give that dress.

‘But there are too many rivals.’

So many people were vying to present Belladi with her evening dress that the competition ran fierce beneath the surface.

The names Hera had identified included the Tower Master, who hailed Belladi as her life’s savior; Baba, the inventor of the railway and steam locomotive; renowned entrepreneurs who had dealt business with Belladi; and even the loyal vassals of the north.

Even Nesia and Ryuspel, still in the Magala Empire, were busy preparing dresses as well.

‘Above all, the most likely contenders are…’

Mostyn Fredo, Belladi’s dearest friend.

And the men of House Alton, her own family.

All formidable challengers. The odds were against Hera, yet she did not feel uneasy.

‘Hmph, but the wedding will only take place after I become empress, won’t it?’

Rank does have its privileges.

Who could dare outshine a dress presented by the emperor herself?

Hera was fully confident that she would emerge victorious in this fierce contest.

That only made her more determined to prepare the perfect dress.

“The Duke’s build is nothing like the average woman of the Empire…”

As she muttered to herself, Hera reflected that Belladi, standing tall at 177 centimeters and sporting a sturdy, muscular frame, was decidedly unlike most.

Moreover, she had recently taken to wearing trousers rather than dresses, so Hera would need precise measurements to commission a new gown.

And since she wasn’t fully sure of Belladi’s preferred styles, it gave her plenty to ponder.

At that moment, someone reached out a helping hand.