Episode 1
“I’m sick of this.”
Clois thought to himself as he watched the ministers chattering away in front of him.
After countless wars and ultimately becoming emperor by cutting down his own brother, seven years had passed.
Now, nothing stirred his heart anymore.
He hadn’t wanted to be emperor. He had simply fought to protect those he loved.
“But still…”
A crushing weariness weighed down on him. Though he had won the emperor’s throne by cutting down many, he no longer saw any meaning in it.
“Because of something so ridiculous…”
The wife he had loved more than anyone and his newborn daughter—whom he had never even seen—had been murdered.
His gaze fell upon the crest on the back of his hand.
A mark that only appeared on direct descendants of the royal family. Now, he was the only one in the world who bore it.
If his daughter had lived, she would’ve had it too…
As the fatigue threatened to overtake him once more, he closed his eyes. The Minister of State beside him looked on with concern.
Clois had ruled the empire as a wise and just emperor for the past seven years—a ruler who would go down in history.
But lately, he could no longer hide his exhaustion.
It was only now that the empire had finally stabilized after a long civil war.
Which was precisely why the emperor needed to stay strong…
Meanwhile, the voices of the ministers in the council chamber grew louder.
“How is this child lacking in qualifications to enter the Academy for Gifted Youth?”
“Isn’t it obvious? His grades are insufficient.”
“Exactly. And his age is a problem! He’s already 17, which is beyond the age limit!”
“But this child comes from a family that made great contributions during the war…”
The Minister of State clicked his tongue silently at the ministers shouting before the emperor.
“Well, I suppose they’re all desperate.”
He glanced at the documents piled up on the table.
[Application for Admission – Imperial Academy for Gifted Youth]
The mountain of papers consisted entirely of admission applications to the Imperial Academy for Gifted Youth.
The Academy was a special institution within the palace, gathering children aged 7 to 15 with exceptional talent.
It had been shut down seven years ago during the war.
But now, to signal the empire’s full return to stability, they had decided to recruit new students.
Truthfully, the empire had already stabilized years prior. But there had been a reason the Academy remained closed.
“Because of Lady Evevien.”
The emperor’s daughter, who had left behind only a name and died right after birth.
Clois missed the daughter he never even had the chance to meet.
Perhaps because of that, whenever he saw a young child in the palace, he would stare vacantly for a long time.
And seeing that, some people developed foolish ambitions.
The emperor had once declared that, out of deep love for his late wife, he would never take another empress.
Thus, the heir’s position remained vacant.
In that case, it was likely the next emperor would be chosen by adopting a noble child with royal blood.
There was even a historical precedent: an emperor without children had adopted a gifted child from the Academy as heir.
“If my child could gain the emperor’s attention…”
If they could be loved in place of the late princess, a high position would surely follow.
And if one could trace their lineage and prove royal blood, becoming heir was entirely possible.
People with such ambitions all tried to get their children into the Academy.
Perhaps sensing that, Clois had continually delayed its reopening.
But this year, he finally approved its reopening.
People thought the emperor had softened and submitted applications, hoping to get their own children—or the children of their factions—into the Academy.
Those were the documents now piled before them.
“They’re all mistaken.”
The Minister of State shook his head.
The shadows of his wife and daughter still lingered beside the emperor.
Clois would never give his affection to another child.
At that moment, one of the ministers clicked his tongue and crumpled a document, throwing it to the floor.
Clois stared at the fallen paper for a long moment before raising his hand.
“Minister of State.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Bring me that document on the floor.”
“Pardon?”
The unexpected command left the minister stunned.
He quickly rose and retrieved the crumpled paper.
Clois smoothed the document carefully.
The minister who had discarded it looked flustered, unsure of what to say now that the emperor was showing interest.
“Why did you throw this away?”
“Ah, well… The applicant was severely lacking in qualifications…”
Clois unfolded the wrinkled document and read it.
His expression turned icy.
“I don’t see anything lacking.”
“But isn’t the child from an orphanage? Surely someone from such a background cannot be admitted to the Imperial Academy, which may determine the next heir—”
“Heir? Who said the Academy was for choosing my heir?”
His chilling voice silenced the room instantly.
The ministers, who had been loudly championing their favored candidates moments ago, all clamped their mouths shut.
“The Imperial Academy is a place for anyone with talent, regardless of background. And yet you’re arbitrarily making rules to exclude deserving candidates?”
“…”
No one dared respond to the frigid rebuke.
Clois clicked his tongue and looked back at the paper.
Unlike the luxurious applications stacked on the table, this one had been written on the back of a used sheet of paper—clear evidence of the applicant’s poverty.
As the minister had said, the applicant came from an orphanage in the city of Elam, a remote town in the empire.
Clois recalled the place. A small city on the empire’s eastern edge, by the sea.
Thanks to its location, it had avoided major damage during the succession war seven years ago.
“They passed Elam’s upper school graduation exam this year.”
The upper school was for students aged 15 to 18.
Even so, graduating from such a school indicated solid academic performance.
That alone qualified the child for entry into the Academy.
“B-but that’s not enough…”
The minister who had crumpled the application stammered, sweating nervously.
This year’s Academy was attracting children from prestigious noble families or wealthy commoners.
One of them was likely to be adopted as heir, and even if not, just being noticed by the emperor could lead to powerful positions.
Furthermore, these students would likely take up key roles in the empire’s future.
In truth, the Academy functioned as a miniature social stage.
This year, only 500 students would be admitted.
Before the war, up to 2,000 had been accepted, but this being the reopening year, they had reduced the number.
Competition was fiercer than ever.
“With spots this limited, an orphan? That’s absurd.”
Surely such a child should just finish school and go on to serve a noble family.
That was why the minister had deemed the application arrogant and discarded it—unaware the emperor would notice.
As the minister’s expression darkened, Clois continued reading.
Not only had the child graduated, they had scored perfect marks in every subject.
Then Clois’s eyes stopped at one line.
Hobbies and Special Skills: Cleaning
“….”
He recalled the hobbies and talents listed on other applications.
Children from noble or wealthy backgrounds had listed artistic skills or obscure interests.
Painting, rare instruments, even ancient, nearly forgotten languages.
All written to prove they belonged at the Academy…
But this one said: cleaning.
A wry smile crossed Clois’s face.
He placed the paper on the table and gave his command.
“Approve this child’s admission.”
