What Became of the Tyrant After the Pregnant Empress Left - Chapter 153
“What is the empress doing now?”
“She is touring the newly renovated garden with His Highness the Crown Prince.”
“Does she seem to like it?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Both Her Majesty the Empress and His Highness the Crown Prince appeared quite pleased.”
At the head maid’s report, Kazhan nodded. It seemed his efforts to redesign the garden, considering the tastes of both the empress and the prince, hadn’t been in vain.
“Good. Prepare to replace the flowers in the greenhouse soon as well.”
“Would you like the same varieties as those in the garden?”
“Since we’ve already arranged winter flowers outside, I’d like to fill the greenhouse with plants from different seasons, divided by sections. If necessary, purchase more temperature-regulating magical tools.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. We will begin the greenhouse renovations as soon as preparations are complete.”
The woman bowed respectfully and left the emperor’s office. Though it wasn’t typically a task for the head maid, with Ysaris not handling the empress’s duties, many people had taken on pieces of her responsibilities.
In truth, the proper thing to do for Ysaris would be to grant her all the rights and duties of the empress. However, Kazhan had chosen not to do so. If she were to hold too much power, controlling the flow of information would become impossible.
Thus, this measure was not for Ysaris but for himself. It was a selfish choice to keep her by his side indefinitely.
“It’s not like it’ll harm Ysaris anyway.”
Having rationalized it to himself, Kazhan resumed his work. After months of hard work, there weren’t many urgent tasks left, but he still diligently carried out his duties as emperor.
He had spent a great deal of time untangling the empire’s administrative mess and redistributing personnel. He sought out those who had faithfully performed their duties even when the upper echelons were corrupt, rewarding them and reallocating lands reclaimed from certain nobles. This approach resembled Ysaris’s methods.
It wasn’t that he consciously imitated her; rather, she had profoundly influenced him. Having grown up as the sole surviving noble of a fallen small kingdom without formal training in statecraft, Kazhan’s policies were shaped by the beliefs and principles Ysaris had shared with him in their daily conversations. Despite being called a tyrant, his policies were surprisingly just.
The only issue was that he had only been sane enough to implement them for a relatively short time.
“Is this the last one?”
Having signed the final document for the day, Kazhan stretched his neck to loosen the stiff muscles. Glancing out the window, he saw the sun still shining brightly.
Having finished work earlier than usual, he hummed thoughtfully. He considered heading straight to Ysaris’s garden but shook his head, unsure if she would still be there.
Rather than intruding on his wife and son’s private time…
“I should prepare a gift.”
Ysaris was a woman who appreciated even the smallest gestures. While renovating the garden for the season was a nice touch, he thought she would be even happier with a small gift to accompany it.
“What would be good?”
Something heartfelt would be better than a store-bought item. He intended to follow through on her preferences as she had mentioned them before.
But when it came to actually preparing something, there wasn’t much he could do on short notice. As the emperor, he couldn’t cook, and making a bouquet was out of the question since she was already in the garden.
As he pondered whether to pick flowers from the greenhouse or think of something else, his gaze fell on the bare branches of a tree.
“That would work.”
Without hesitation, Kazhan left his office. Though her hair wasn’t as long as it used to be, Ysaris’s hair had grown enough that he thought she might find use for a certain item.
* * *
“…This is trickier than I thought.”
Kazhan frowned, then smoothed his expression and discarded the piece of wood in his hand without regret. There was plenty of material left, so there was no need to dwell on a failed attempt.
The only problem was that his time was running out.
“Hmm.”
Kazhan glanced at the sky and roughly ran a hand through his hair. Using a dagger instead of proper carving tools made it difficult to achieve a smooth surface, as the wood kept splitting along the grain.
Perhaps the material itself was the issue. Dry winter wood wasn’t the best for carving.
