Hestia and the Pitiful Beasts - Chapter 3

The question came bluntly, cutting straight to the point, but she didn’t immediately answer.

Instead, she gazed up at the sunlight shimmering through the leaves and, after a moment, murmured softly.

“What else? Tomorrow at the coronation, I’ll appoint you as Chancellor,” Hestia replied. “Since the late Emperor passed away so suddenly, you’ll have to start immediately without a transition period. I have no doubt you’ll handle it well, but don’t let the ministers run wild. If necessary, killing one or two of them should get the message across.”

“I’ll consider keeping them alive and useful instead,” Lapinan replied with a calm composure.

“Promising,” she said dryly, her expression far from excited, and added with irritation, “Oh, and make sure Erei is given plenty of travel funds. Tell him to spend all of it. Every last coin.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“If you don’t, he’ll undoubtedly skimp on even lodging for the squad. That man still thinks he’s the only human on this earth who can survive camping out for three days and nights without food.”

“I’ll make it clear it’s an imperial order.”

“As you should.”

“Then, Your Majesty, may I ask about what comes next?”

“……”

For a moment, Hestia hesitated again. Her lowered lashes cast shadows of uncertainty, as though she was lost in thought. Was it nostalgia in her gaze? No, nostalgia was too indulgent a word for someone as burdened with worries as she. Let’s call it reflection instead.

“Hey, Hestia,” the voice in her mind intruded, uninvited, as it often did.

“What if you had to choose between me and the throne? What would you pick?”

It was a question posed to her once before by the most arrogant man she had ever known.

That night, they had been under a sky full of stars, lying on an endless grassy plain. She could still vividly recall the number of stars, the sound of the crackling campfire, and the crisp chill of that spring evening. The firelight was as red as the man’s hair.

It had been one of those days when she, despite having her gender revealed by the mercenary of unknown origins, found herself unable to kill him. Instead, she let time slip by, unsure of why.

At that time, she had been lying with her back to him, pretending to sleep. But she couldn’t even manage a light doze. Eventually, she turned to face him, her movements slow and hesitant.

His deep crimson hair wasn’t quite black, nor truly red, but it stood out even in the dim night like fresh blood. His eyes were a piercing blue, so sharp they looked as though they were carved from frozen seawater.

His rugged face bore countless scars, and his sharp, straight brows seemed to warn of his prickly nature. Yet, in her presence, those same brows would often soften unexpectedly.

Perhaps that’s why.

Without realizing it, Hestia had placed her palm against his cheek.

His skin was strangely cool to the touch, grounding her and calming her thoughts. She found herself laughing quietly, amused at the sheer audacity of someone asking her—her—to make such a choice.

The answer had been clear from the beginning.

“The people,” she had said.

His eyebrows furrowed deeply in frustration.

“That wasn’t one of the options,” he replied.

“Then you made the wrong list,” she countered.

“…Is that so?”

He had slowly placed his hand over hers.

“So I’m not even your people?”

“…That’s—”

“Go to sleep.”

That night, he hadn’t pressed her further, as though he understood her, at least to some degree.

And so, he would have to understand today’s choice as well.

Hestia opened her eyes and looked directly at Lapinan.

“When Erei departs, proceed with the marriage negotiations as planned.”

“Understood.”

Fortunately or unfortunately, Lapinan didn’t ask any questions. His demeanor suggested there was nothing to question—of course, matters of state took precedence over any fleeting connection with a wandering mercenary. And Hestia felt the same.

A few kisses. That’s all it was. And even those were more of Erei’s unilateral advances than mutual affection. So what had her feelings been during those moments? The answer wasn’t worth pondering.

Hestia was an Emperor.

“Find the weakest and least intelligent heir among the seven noble families eligible for a royal marriage. Make sure there are no other significant flaws and confirm it yourself. Set the wedding date as soon as possible. Visit the temple for an auspicious date, but choose the earliest one they can offer. You understand what I mean, don’t you, Lapinan?”

From the moment she resolved to become Emperor, she had never considered her life to be a misfortune.

Lapinan nodded expressionlessly.

“I’ll have everything finalized before Erei and his hundred-man squad return.”

A truly remarkable talent, too clever to be relegated to physical labor alone. The thought crossed her mind again, so obvious it felt redundant, but she kept it to herself.

*

The coronation had concluded flawlessly.

As Hestia stepped forward wearing the golden crown adorned with hundreds of glittering gemstones, the square erupted in thunderous cheers so loud they seemed to shake the ground. The overwhelming noise might have intimidated some, but not Hestia. She strode forward as boldly as ever.

Her hands gracefully accepted each flower offered by the people. Her flowing black hair shimmered in the breeze, and her elegant steps and dainty feet as she ascended the platform seemed to declare what her voice did not—she had never been a man, not even for a moment.

The crowd instinctively realized that their new Emperor was a woman. But by then, it no longer mattered. They had already fallen in love with their new ruler.

Emperor Hestia Mycena Typhlis III washed her hands with the sacred water brought by the high priest and sat on the throne left behind by the late Emperor. Through the cascading gemstones of the crown, her golden eyes gleamed as she spoke.

“I am the Emperor. Do not dare to insult me with any other title.”

Everyone in attendance, from the court officials to the foreign envoys, bowed their heads. Those were her first words as Emperor, and the warning was clear: any slip of the pen referring to her as “Empress” or “Queen” would be considered an act of war, no matter how unintended it might be.

The late spring sun blazed fiercely, unrelenting even in the morning.

Unlike Lapinan, who stood steadfastly by her side throughout the ceremony, Erei observed the proceedings from a distance, busying himself with the final preparations for his departure.

“Captain Erei, we’ve finished feeding the horses,” reported Jun, a knight wearing a black eyepatch over her left eye. She saluted crisply as she approached.

Erei barely spared her a glance, nodding faintly while his gaze lingered on the distant square. What could he possibly find so fascinating in a scene barely visible from their vantage point? Jun tilted her head in confusion at her superior’s inscrutable behavior.

Suddenly, Erei grinned and spun around.
“Well, before we set out, why don’t we humbly request a blessing from our beautiful Emperor?”

“Isn’t the coronation still going on?” Jun asked, incredulous.

“It’s done.”

“How would you know that? You can’t even see the square from here.”

“I can.”

“…Excuse me?”

“She’s just finished her speech and is dismissing the crowd. That Chancellor—formerly the Captain of the Guard—is handling the rest.”

Erei stretched his neck, glancing once more toward the square as if confirming something. He let out a satisfied hum.

“Hm. If we leave now, we’ll meet her right at the gates. Get ready, Jun.”

“Wait… you can see? Oh, I get it! You’re joking, right?” Jun, known for her lack of humor, finally caught on and smiled sheepishly.

Erei didn’t bother to respond, simply giving her a blank look before mounting his horse.

“What are you waiting for? Assemble the troops.”

“Yes, sir!” Jun saluted again and ran off to relay his orders.

The sharp noon sun cast its golden rays directly over Erei’s head as he sat atop his massive black horse, the effect creating the illusion of gilded bars encasing him. The brilliance of the light only served to deepen the shadows on his face, obscuring his expression but doing nothing to diminish his commanding presence.

Jun swallowed nervously.

“It’s a good thing he’s on our side,” she thought, echoing what many in the Imperial Army often said about him.

Anyone who had seen Erei Lyn in action on the battlefield would agree. Few could match his prowess, save perhaps Lapinan Kyle, the former captain of the Crown Princess’s guard. Even so, rumors had long circulated that Lapinan wasn’t entirely human. Whenever the two fought together, the results were nothing short of legendary.

When Erei and his hundred-strong squad reached the gates, he dismounted in one swift motion. As his troops followed suit, a cloud of dust rose and enveloped the area.

It was then that Hestia’s procession appeared, her carriage flanked by a formation of guards. At the forefront rode Lapinan, newly appointed Chancellor of the Empire.

“Show your respects to Her Majesty,” Lapinan commanded.

At once, everyone knelt on one knee, pressing it into the dirt.

Erei, too, bent his body without protest but rolled his eyes upward. It was easy to spot Hestia through the carriage window, her golden gaze shining brighter than the gems on her crown. Locking eyes with her, Erei spoke.

“I dare to ask for the Emperor’s blessing.”

It was an audacious request, bordering on insolence.