“So, wait patiently.”
Rant nodded enthusiastically.
“Now, off to your studies. Your teacher’s waiting.”
“…Yes.”
With slumped shoulders, Rant obediently headed to his study. I watched until he disappeared from sight, then moved at the butler’s urging.
The door opened, revealing a carriage bearing the imperial seal. A knight waiting by it approached, placing a hand on his chest and bowing slightly.
“First Imperial Guard, Lionel of Iswal, at your service. I will escort you safely to the palace, my lady.”
I found it odd that a knight meant to guard Sys was here, but with eyes watching, I held my questions.
Sys was still publicly known to be in critical condition—a ruse to catch the culprit who’d targeted me and gather evidence. I doubted the First Prince’s consort, Bin, had orchestrated it; she was too emotional for such a calculated move. The First Consort or First Prince’s involvement seemed unlikely, too—it was too sloppy. If they’d intended to kill me from the start, Sys wouldn’t have had a chance to intervene. The only explanation was that Bin acted impulsively, and the First Consort lent her support. With Sys caught in the crossfire and supposedly near death, it was a golden opportunity for her.
If Sys died, it would be ideal for them, but the First Consort, cunning as a viper, wouldn’t rely on chance. She aimed to eliminate me while Sys was incapacitated. If the Eliant family, Sys’s key allies, were already out of the picture by the time he recovered, it would put him at a severe disadvantage.
“Thank you, Sir Lionel.”
“I’m here as a knight, so please address me as such.”
“Very well, Sir Lionel.”
His rigid formality, so unlike Sys’s sly charm, made me chuckle. I took his offered hand and climbed into the carriage. He gave me an unreadable look as I settled in.
“Is there something you wish to say?”
“No, my lady. Rest during the journey.”
“Preparations are complete.”
Just before closing the carriage door, Sir Lionel’s lips moved silently, delivering Sys’s message.
The door shut, leaving me alone inside. Soon, the carriage began to move. I took a deep breath, clenching my fists lightly.
All preparations were done. Only the final battle remained.
—
Act 14: The Trial
“Bionne Lossa Eliant, my lady.”
As the herald announced my name, the doors to the meeting hall swung open. Inside, semicircular tables were arranged on a raised platform. Most seats were filled, but the emperor, his immediate family, and Father were absent.
All eyes turned to me as I entered. A waiting attendant approached to guide me.
“This way, Lady Eliant.”
“This is my place?”
“Yes, my lady.”
The spot was dead center within the semicircle, with no chair provided—a position blatantly meant for interrogating a criminal. The overt arrangement drew a wry laugh from me.
The venue and seating were entirely at the convener’s discretion. Though called by the empress, everyone knew the First Consort was behind it.
“His Majesty, the Sun of the Empire, has arrived.”
At the herald’s cry, the seated nobles rose to greet the emperor, followed by the empress, other royals, and Father, the prime minister.
Father’s brow furrowed slightly as our eyes met—a subtle sign of his displeasure that only I could catch.
The emperor took his seat, and the royals and nobles followed. Father sat without breaking eye contact with me. I gave him a reassuring smile.
“Let the meeting begin.”
“Your Majesty, forgive my presumption, but may I speak first?”
All eyes turned to me. I stood tall, meeting the emperor’s gaze alone.
“Lady Eliant, do you know where you are—”
A noble’s rebuke was cut off by the emperor’s raised hand. Gone was the kind face he showed in private. He was the ruler of a vast empire, not the doting father-in-law. After a brief silence, his heavy voice spoke.
“Permission granted.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
I bowed in gratitude. Some nobles looked displeased, but with the emperor’s command, none dared interrupt.
“I humbly ask Your Majesty…”
I paused, scanning the room. The attendees were split evenly between the First Prince’s faction and the crown prince’s. It seemed balanced, but it wasn’t. Naturally, the First Consort and her allied nobles opposed my becoming crown princess. Even among the crown prince’s faction, not all supported me.
Becoming crown princess meant becoming the future empress—the highest position a woman could achieve, second only to the emperor in power. Such a position was coveted. Many nobles here had eligible daughters, restrained only by my advantageous position. They’d seize any chance to replace me with their own. In short, few here would fully support me.
After observing the nobles’ calculating faces, I fixed my gaze on the emperor, whose expression was unreadable.
“Am I here as a criminal?”
“No.”
His face twitched slightly. Officially, this meeting was to question my qualifications as crown princess, not to try me as a criminal. I spoke boldly to him.
“Then why must I stand here like one?”
The setup was clearly meant to intimidate me from the start. I wasn’t so weak as to be cowed by seating arrangements, but I had no intention of playing along with the First Consort’s scheme.
At my blunt question, the emperor’s gaze shifted to the empress. Though the First Consort was the true orchestrator, the empress was the nominal convener. She shrank under his gaze, avoiding his eyes.
“What is the meaning of this, Empress?”
“I-I, well, that is…”
“This is a meeting for those of marquis rank or higher. As Lady Eliant holds no title, it is only proper she has no seat.”
With the empress trembling and unable to answer, the First Consort, seated beside her, spoke up. The emperor’s face openly soured.
“I asked the empress.”
His icy rebuke silenced the First Consort and drained the empress’s face of color.
“I’ll ask again, Empress. What is the meaning of this?”
“As the First Consort said, Your Majesty,” she stammered.
A mocking smile curled the emperor’s lips.
“As I understand, this meeting was convened to question Lady Eliant’s qualifications as crown princess. Is that incorrect?”
“That is correct, Your Majesty.”
“If Lady Eliant, the very subject of this meeting, is deemed unqualified to be present, are you saying this meeting has no purpose?”
The First Consort had said I was unfit to *sit*, but the emperor reframed it as unfit to *be present*. One word’s difference carried immense weight. Declaring me unfit to be here negated the meeting’s purpose entirely—it was as if there was no need to hold it.
Most nobles grasped the emperor’s intent, but the empress, cowed by his presence, missed it. She nodded.
“Y-Yes, Your Majesty.”
The emperor’s lips curved upward. He surveyed the room with satisfaction.
“If the convener says so, this meeting is concluded.”
“But—”
“Your Majesty!”
While the empress sat bewildered, the First Consort shot to her feet, glaring. The emperor leaned back leisurely.
I hadn’t noticed Sys resembled his late mother, but seeing the emperor now, I knew where Sys got his temperament.
“Does the First Consort have something to say?”
“Will you truly end this meeting?”
“Did the empress, the convener, not say so herself?”
His relaxed reply twisted the First Consort’s face. I’d expected him to tilt the meeting in my favor, but not so blatantly.
Though he supported Sys as his heir, he typically maintained neutrality in public as emperor. Yet here he was, openly taking my side—an unprecedented move. The First Consort, clearly unprepared for this, was visibly flustered.
She glared at the still-clueless empress, who had lost her authority as convener with her answer.
She had two options: let the meeting dissolve and plan for another day, or have someone else immediately convene a new meeting on the same topic. Neither was ideal for her.
The first option required time to organize another meeting, with no guarantee Sys wouldn’t recover in the interim, and more time meant more variables. The second allowed the meeting to resume at once, but the empress could no longer convene it. Someone else—or the First Consort herself—would have to step forward.
I hoped she’d choose the second. The first would force me to prepare for new variables until the next meeting, a headache-inducing prospect. I silently awaited her decision.
Her gaze flicked to the empty seat beside the emperor—Sys’s, who was supposedly bedridden. Her contorted face relaxed, and her red lips parted.
“Livianka Sern Moyton Friston requests to convene a meeting, Your Majesty.”
“What is the subject?”
“Lady Eliant’s qualifications as crown princess.”
“Very well. With all observers present, let the meeting begin.”
As if waiting for her to take the role, the emperor responded instantly.
Becoming the convener meant bearing full responsibility for the outcome. Though unintentional, the First Consort had shed the empress’s shield and now stood exposed with me on the battlefield.
