Sensing her unspoken thought, the Emperor simply laughed. “If only someone would relieve me of this throne. Every morning, I walk toward it with thoughts of abdication on my mind.”
“Pardon?” Liliette asked, bewildered.
“I am better suited to being a father than an emperor or a husband.”
Liliette’s eyes widened in shock. She couldn’t quite grasp what she was hearing, nor did she want to.
“Everything I do is for my children—to ensure they live well.”
His paternal love was striking. In a country where even minor nobles scattered their seed without a second thought, such sentiment was rare—especially from the Emperor. How could he entrust such a momentous secret to someone he had only just met?
“As a father, I sometimes wish my children had been born to ordinary nobles. At least then, they wouldn’t be targeted by assassins or entangled in constant political games. It is a miracle I have managed to protect them this long…”
