Classified (UNDER CONSTRUCTION)

File 2, Part 3 - Her Imperial Majesty

Because the innate luck that my older sister possessed knew no bounds, nobody discovered her and the gardener's secret except my bodyguard and me, and that was the situation for a while, perhaps one year or so. Had anyone else stumbled upon it, rumors would have undoubtedly spread like wildfire. Yet, the silence remained, as if fate itself conspired to shield her indiscretions.

With that said, weird things began happening to the gardener.

More than once, during our gatherings, peculiar accidents befell him. My sister's suitors seemed to collide with him more often than chance should allow. Shoes trampled his feet, hands accidentally knocked into his shoulders, and hot drinks mysteriously spilled onto his clothes, scalding his skin and leaving angry red burns. Each incident occurred while my sister sipped her champagne, oblivious to the growing tension around her, engaged in lively conversation with the admirers who swarmed her.

Naturally, I couldn't ignore this.

I took it upon myself to monitor her suitors, trying to discern if they had discovered her secret and, more importantly, if they harbored ill intentions toward her or the gardener. Thus far, I had uncovered nothing concrete. Their outward behavior betrayed no sign of suspicion or malice, but these coincidences gnawed at my thoughts.

In the meantime, I fetched a maid to assist the gardener with ointments for his burns. She complied eagerly, her cheeks flushed and her hands trembling as she handed him the salve. It was clear she harbored feelings for him, though her affection went unnoticed. The gardener remained unfailingly kind and polite to her, but his gaze never lingered on her for long. His eyes, as always, sought only my sister.

I couldn't help but wonder, what was really going on?

Did my sister's suitors know something they weren't supposed to? And if they did, why had there been no whispers, no telltale rumors to tarnish her reputation? Was there a piece of the puzzle I had yet to uncover, some thread I had overlooked? Or was it simply my own paranoia, weaving a conspiracy where none existed?

Whatever the truth, I could not shake the unease growing within me.

One night, my bodyguard and I found them again in my older sister's garden, once more unaccompanied by a bodyguard or lady-in-waiting. This time, they were hidden more carefully, tucked away in the shadows of a cluster of oak trees deep within the garden. Still, I found them, having intentionally searched the perimeter in hopes of catching sight of them.

My older sister sat on the ground in a pale pink negligee, its straps slipping loosely over her arms. She had her face buried in her wet hands, muffling her quiet sobs, her knees drawn up to support her head, leaving her legs exposed. The gardener knelt beside her, gazing at her with sorrowful, weary eyes. He combed his stiff fingers gently through her loose hair, saying nothing. As before, her invisibility cloak lay discarded within an arm's reach.

What...what is this? She is outside again looking like that, but is she also letting a man comb her hair this time? And she is crying...why is she even crying? It is not like her to cry in front of just anyone.

Also, if I'm not mistaken... didn't the gardener injure his fingers earlier when one of her suitors accidentally knocked him onto some rocks? Not only did his hands bleed profusely, but his fingers appeared slightly twisted from the impact. Thankfully, the potions I provided to the maid who tended to him earlier sped up his recovery. Even so, the incident still lingers in my mind...

"...There is nothing wrong with crying when you are tired and overwhelmed with everything, Your Imperial Majesty," he murmured, his voice soft and breathy, as usual. "In fact, crying makes people feel better in many situations."