“The owner isn’t here yet?” a customer asked.

Lucy gave him an awkward smile. “She isn’t. The young master was suddenly sick last night, so she was up taking care of him and didn’t go to bed until morning.”

“So, today’s another bust.”

The customers blamed the poor informant. Since service at Sangria depended entirely on the owner’s mood, the customers who’d become slaves to her baking had hired an informant to monitor her mood swings. On days she was in a particularly good mood, they could rush to the café and buy out everything.

Thanks to this, Sangria had become a hub of information in the capital, second to none. Even information guilds sold tips about the owner’s mood on a daily basis, a practice lucrative enough to sustain smaller guilds. That was the power of Sangria’s influence in the capital. And yet the owner herself seemed completely unaware of her café’s popularity. If she had been, perhaps she would’ve shown up more consistently.

The waiting customers wept. Not literally, of course, because they’d become accustomed to the way things were done at Sangria. They knew that the owner wasn’t running the place to make a living, and the moment anyone complained, she might shrug and say, “Ugh, how annoying—I may as well quit.” Known to act fast when she wanted to, she might close her café that very second.

All they could do was plead with her to keep running her shop. The reality of this behavior among paying customers was a little sad, but it had already been five years since Sangria opened. They’d gotten used to it by now. It was easier to give in.

It was in this chaos that the greatest tyrant in history made an appearance, though nobody recognized him.

“Welcome,” Lucy said with a bright smile. “Please sit down wherever you like.”

Abe led the emperor to a table, and the four of them sat down at two tables with a bit of a gap in between, the emperor and Edward on the left and the twins on the right.

For the twins, it was the perfect spot. As the others glanced over the menu, the brothers exchanged glances.

Is she here?

No.

They despaired. They’d taken the risk and made it here for nothing. Tears blurred their vision.

While the twins wallowed in self-pity, the emperor ordered some black tea and turned to Edward. “The holy temple got into trouble again.”

“What is it this time?”

“There was a rumor that a real one showed up in a small village called Etlang.”

“By ‘real one,’ you mean…”

“A real Child of God—one with real powers who could become the high priest, the symbol and head of the holy temple.”

Edward let out a huff. “No such thing. I’ve never seen anyone like that at the temple.”

“Because they don’t have one. Why would they join the temple, knowing that they would only be exploited? The real Children of God have avoided the holy temple for generations. They’ve roamed the empire in secret.”

“The holy temple has been corrupted much longer than that.”

The civilians knew nothing about these matters. They didn’t particularly like the priests, who didn’t act as upright as they should, but over ninety percent of the people believed in the Great God Roux. There was no chance that the temple would ever be shut down.

Although the Children of God had their powers, they couldn’t change the way the temple operated. It was already rotten to the core. In the end, they chose to run away, even though the temple continued to chase them. If the temple got hold of them, they would exploit them until they died. Not even an idiot would choose that life.

“An innocent village wiped out because of them,” the emperor said. “Once again, they demanded to see any evidence that it was their doing, then got rid of all of it. I wanted to kill them on the spot.”

Why didn’t you? Edward wondered.

The priests wouldn’t have been able to object, even if he had. If they had been killed for provoking the tyrant, they would have no one but themselves to blame. Even the temple wouldn’t oppose him. They didn’t want to be killed. There were children at the temple with a small amount of holy power, collected—kidnapped, in other words—by the temple. But even their combined powers wouldn’t be enough to save someone’s life.

But Eid was a relatively good emperor. Though he wasn’t a particularly nice man, even without the hereditary madness that ran in the imperial family, he was a good ruler who was adept at handling state affairs. This was why the Vencroft Empire was living through a golden age even though he reigned as a tyrant. He kept his madness under control because he hated the way it made him unable to move freely when it overtook him. It rarely if ever was allowed to manifest. This was something only a few people realized, however, because his personality was so abysmal.

“What a waste of time and energy,” he said. “As if the Children of God would get caught so easily.”

“The issue is that they keep trying, even though they know very well that they won’t succeed.”

I wish I could destroy them all. The emperor’s lips formed an ominous smirk.

The door opened with a jingle, and a radiant child entered the café with a bright smile.

“Oh, my, if it isn’t Elias,” said a customer.

“What a beautiful child,” said another.

Everyone smiled at the boy with his sparkling gold hair. Everyone who came to Sangria regularly knew Elias.

Lucy turned her back to the customers to hug him. “Where have you been, young master?”

“I took a quick stroll. Lucy, where’s mom?”

“She’s still asleep. You should eat something.”

“Is there anything to eat?”

“I’ll make sure you get something. Boss said she didn’t want to sit around while you were ill last night and she couldn’t sleep, so she made a lot of things.”

“Yay! What did she make?”

“She is always so generous, so she made a lot. There was pudding, which is your favorite, and tarts and roll cakes. She also made chocolate croissants and blueberry loaves. There was something else, but I haven’t looked yet.”

“Wow! But why aren’t you selling any of it?”

“You haven’t eaten yet, young master, and the owner hasn’t given permission yet, either. I’ve been waiting.”

The customers raised their voices in objection, their eyes wide.

“What was that?” one called. “You have stock but aren’t selling anything?”

“Why wouldn’t you sell it? Are you running a business or what?”

Lucy seemed used to this sort of uproar. “It’s up to my boss to decide. How could I sell something without getting her permission? And the young master hasn’t even eaten yet.”

“So give him some and sell the rest. You have so much!”

With the owner still out of sight, everyone took the opportunity to voice their opinion. It was ridiculous not to start selling things just because the boy hadn’t eaten—not that they wanted to take his food.

The emperor and Edward watched in confusion at this strange sight. The two brothers, on the other hand, cheered inwardly. They wanted to eat some of the food; they’d waited for this day. And with offerings like Lucy had described, nothing would stop them from buying some of the baked goods.

Being only an employee, Lucy couldn’t do much else to mediate the situation. She smiled awkwardly, and the crowd grew even louder. They knew they would be able to get their hands on what they’d been waiting for if they held out a bit longer, and their faces flushed with excitement.

“Elias, my dear.”

A slender woman—no, a girl—with gorgeous platinum-blonde hair and an otherworldly beauty came down the stairs.

Everyone in the café instantly quieted. Their flushed cheeks went pale. It was as though a field of flowers had been instantly covered in ice.

Confused by the sudden silence, the emperor and Edward eyed the young woman curiously as the child smiled brightly and ran over to her.

“Mom!”

“…?”

“Mom?”

The young woman looked to be in her late teens at most, and yet she was his mother? It wasn’t impossible, but it seemed beyond belief. She didn’t look like the mother of a child. She didn’t look like a woman with a family of her own. She didn’t look anything like an average human. Her beauty was entirely ethereal.

As if she weren’t aware that anyone was looking at her, the young woman sleepily scooped the boy into her arms. “Where have you been? I was worried when I woke up because you were gone.”

“Okay, I won’t do it anymore.”

“Good. Have you eaten anything?”

“Not yet.”

“Is there anything you would like?”

“I love everything you make, mom,” he exclaimed enthusiastically.

It was something any mother would love to hear from her child.