As Demerti muttered to himself and stepped out of Elara's office, he looked up at the moon with a tired expression.
He still could not believe it.
Everyone dreamed of becoming a princess—or, if not that, then at least becoming emperor. To most people, that was the highest possible dream. If you asked the people walking along the road whether they wanted to become emperor, most of them would probably answer, "Yes, of course, at any cost."
But his master was different.
Elara had always been against becoming emperor. And even after she had been forced into that role, she had only handled it for a few years before handing Samuel the responsibility. But it was not as if she had become irresponsible after that. No. She still did most of the work.
If Samuel could not handle something, Elara handled it. If something needed to be done properly, she did it. In truth, she was doing nearly everything—except sitting on the throne herself.
And that was exactly what made no sense to Demerti.
