Spitting Blood

Saint Cruz, Domed Palace.

Even though the flames of war had already spread across most of the world, all the turmoil and unrest seemed unable to affect this place. In early summer, the Museum of All Nations was filled only with birdsong, fragrant flowers, and splendid grandeur.

The promised benefits had been promised, the forces that needed to be united had been united, and all the combat power that needed to be deployed had already been sent out. What remained could only be entrusted to the Empire's national destiny.

Since worrying would do no good, Philip II had recovered some of the bearing befitting His Majesty the Emperor, at least on the surface.

Surrounded by a group of court ladies, Philip II, who rarely had such leisure, accompanied his Empress Theresa on a spring outing through the Royal Garden, which had been exquisitely designed and painstakingly tended by hundreds of gardeners.

After wandering about for some time, they arrived at a colonnade built of pure white marble. Philip II took his empress's hand and sat down leisurely.

With great affection, he teased the son lying in her arms a few times—the Sirius Empire's designated Crown Prince, Odrich.

"Oooh, oooh, oooh."

He casually plucked a delicate golden broom flower from a branch hanging above the colonnade and tucked it into the hairline of his wife, whose figure remained as slender as paper.

There were many beautiful flowers that bloomed in May, yet he had specifically chosen this golden broom flower. Clearly, deep down, he was not as calm and unconcerned as he appeared.

"Your Majesty."

"Hm? What is it, my beautiful empress?"

"I never expected those bankers and merchants of the kingdom to harbor such ambitions. They have caused the Empire so much trouble."

News that the Invincible Armada had been