Chapter 16
“…My name is Izana Rohia.”
“We met a few days ago, didn’t we? I’m Linton Hester.”
I bit my lip at the man who introduced himself as Linton Hester.
He definitely looked like the same chancellor who visited the Rohia mansion with Marchioness Haiga and witnessed the whole commotion that day.
But if I was right, this man was only pretending to be Linton Hester.
He subconsciously reached for his waist where nothing was there, then awkwardly stroked his beard.
“I have a question for you, young lady.”
I felt like ignoring my suspicion would be risky, so I lightly clenched and released my fist and replied calmly.
“Count, then may I ask you a question in return after I answer yours?”
“Oh? You’ll repay my question with another question?”
He looked at me, amused. I smiled, trying to look harmless.
“I didn’t know anyone here, so I’ve just been wandering around awkwardly. I’m grateful you showed interest in me and asked a question.”
“…Hah.”
He let out a soft laugh, and the sharpness in his eyes slightly faded into a smile.
“So, you’re saying because I showed interest, you’ll repay me with a question… I’ll look forward to what you have to say then.”
I kept smiling as if I didn’t know anything. He leaned closer to look me in the eye.
“You’re wandering through a vast desert. You have one loaf of bread, and there are four starving people following you.”
I held back a twitch in my lips.
Should I laugh? Or stay serious? Either way, I was sure now—
I knew who the four people were.
And I knew who this man really was.
“There’s a cheerful child who follows you around happily, a young man who’s easy to talk to, an old man full of wisdom, and a kind young woman who cares for you.”
The man smiled gently and asked,
“What would you do with the loaf of bread?”
There’s no right answer to this question.
But I knew the kind of answer he would like.
***
“I’d poison the bread with desert scorpion venom and give it to the young man.”
The hand holding the teacup froze. Joseph answered calmly when asked to explain.
“If we keep wandering the desert, we’ll eventually start seeing each other as food. That’s why the strongest one—the young man—should be dealt with first.”
The man who asked the question, Emperor Silis Lionea of the Western Empire, silently drank his tea.
Joseph was curious how the emperor felt about his answer—but Silis simply changed the subject without comment.
However, afterward, the emperor began calling on Joseph more often.
Which meant he likely liked the answer very much.
And from that moment on, the emperor was already dancing in the palm of Joseph’s hand.
***
As I recalled that moment from the original story, I narrowed my eyes.
Emperor Silis Lionea of the Western Empire.
The man standing before me was undoubtedly him.
“This wasn’t in the original story either.”
…So why had the emperor disguised himself and snuck into the Rohia mansion?
***
A child.
A young man.
An old man.
A young woman.
In the original story, Silis had killed his cruel father, Emperor Kalis, with his own hands at a young age.
Silis was always a mysterious figure in the story.
He didn’t appear much, but as the emperor, his actions had a huge impact—especially when he began backing the villain, Joseph.
From the moment Joseph gave his answer to this question, Silis started openly supporting him.
Readers debated what the question meant to Silis.
The most popular theory was this:
- The child = Silis himself
- The old man = the dying Western Empire
- The young woman = Marchioness Haiga
- The young man = Kalis Lionea, the father Silis killed
I thought for a moment and then answered slowly.
“I would have all five of us play rock-paper-scissors. Whoever wins gets to eat it.”
“Rock-paper-scissors?”
The man blinked in surprise.
“Why?”
I shrugged.
“Thinking about it gives me a headache.”
If I gave Joseph’s answer, I might win the emperor’s favor.
But the truth was—I didn’t really know Silis Lionea.
“So, you’re saying you’ll just give a random answer?”
His eyes showed a flicker of disappointment.
I smiled awkwardly and held my hands together.
“Count, if the five of us were truly close and trusted each other, this kind of question wouldn’t even be necessary. We’d naturally share the bread.”
In the original, Silis supported Joseph—who later became a huge obstacle for Winter Orseus.
In other words, for me, Silis was a coin flip. A gamble.
And if I had to rely on an emperor, I’d rather pick the one from the Northern Empire, the protagonist’s older brother—
a wise and noble ruler, widely loved in the original.
He and Silis were also known to be bitter rivals.
So I gave an honest—but slightly calculated—answer.
“I just don’t understand the question very well. The bread only creates conflict. Maybe what you’re really asking is… what kind of chaos would I choose?”
Silis might seem cold, but perhaps he was still haunted by the trauma of killing his father.
“That’s why he walks around asking nonsense like this about deserts and bread…”
In the original, this led him to make the mistake of backing Joseph.
He might’ve been a capable emperor, but if he kept clinging to the past, he’d never become a true ruler.
He needed to learn that soon—before Joseph realized the wound in his heart.
“So, I’d say the winner eats the bread. Since the question doesn’t consider peace from the start, it’s a pointless one.”
“You’re saying it’s a meaningless question? Are you mocking me?”
“I’m sorry, Count. I must not be very smart. My nanny always told me: good thoughts lead to good things, and bad thoughts lead to bad ones.”
His face didn’t look pleased, and his voice turned a little sharp.
“Then why not just throw the bread away?”
“You’ve never gone hungry before, have you?”
Grrrrr.
Right on cue, my stomach growled loudly. The man glanced at it in surprise.
Yikes. Don’t stare so openly.
I thought about how deeply hunger had consumed my days not long ago and pouted.
“Wasting food brings punishment from heaven.”
He stared at me in disbelief but seemed amused.
“…Now I’m even more curious about what question you’ll ask me.”
I thought for a moment and said,
“Which of those four people did you like the most?”
“You’re the first person to ask me that!”
He sighed and looked annoyed.
He hit the ground hard with his cane, clearly displeased, then frowned.
“I liked the young man the most.”
Ah. I knew it.
“I see.”
To Silis, his father was both a nightmare by day and a longing by night.
“Why did you want to know that?” he asked, a little impatient.
But just then, hurried footsteps echoed through the hall, and someone suddenly grabbed my shoulder.
“What are you doing down here?!”
“…Mother.”
I guess I talked with him for too long.
Yudis must’ve realized I was downstairs and came running in a panic.
