Chapter 10 · A Birthday Party of Blood I

About two weeks before now.

March 1, Year 319 of the Barentis Calendar—the day the empire’s history was stained with blood.

Click, clack.

The sound of elegant heels echoed across the cold marble.

As Princess Isadel passed, the imperial guards retreated like the ebbing tide and bowed their heads.

As if invisible frost spread in the wake of her footsteps, a chilling tension hung in the corridor.

At last, she reached the entrance of the grand banquet hall.

The murmur of distinguished guests and the sweet melodies of the orchestra seeped through the gap in the doors.

Everyone seemed elated as if they had been counting down the days to today, but Isadel, the guest of honor, was utterly indifferent.

‘Nineteen already.’

Privately, it was no more than a birthday marking her coming of age, but publicly, it was a grave ceremony proclaiming to the whole world that the successor of Rastain was alive and well.

It was a day on which she should have been savoring the most overwhelming joy of her life, yet Isadel felt nothing at all.

Like an actor waiting for the curtain to rise on a tedious play, she was already steeped in deep ennui.

“Open it.”

The moment her voice fell, the firmly closed doors parted left and right.

After a short breath, Isadel stepped boldly toward the banquet hall.

Never knowing that it was the overture to the destruction that would shake her entire life to its foundations.

* * *

“Her Highness the Princess enters!”

At the ceremonial officer’s cry, the noise in the hall subsided as if by a lie.

Every gaze in the banquet hall turned toward Isadel.

A pure white dress flowing beneath impeccably straight shoulders.

Skin like white jade, paler and more transparent still.

Haughty eyes that never warmly met anyone’s gaze, and firmly closed lips.

Isadel, who seized the air of the hall in an instant, was a beauty who inspired reverence before admiration.

But the intimidating presence she exuded did not stem solely from her dazzling appearance.

Rastain and Ceres.

Holding at once the rights of succession to the thrones of two great empires, she was a perfect legitimate heir who would be remembered forever in history.

Arrogant, perfect, a being born of the noblest bloodline in history.

To win her hand meant to seize hegemony over the continent.

That was why this gathering today was no mere celebration.

It was an exquisitely elegant and murderous battlefield where those who sought to become masters of the continent through a royal marriage with the princess had gathered.

“Isadel.”

The first to greet the princess was her father, Emperor Aderus.

“I greet Your Imperial Majesty.”

With a faint smile on her lips, Isadel offered a greeting with flawless etiquette.

As she rose, the emperor embraced his daughter and whispered low.

“Happy birthday, Isadel.

I hope that today at least, you will be the happiest person in the world.”

Genuine affection was steeped in his tender voice.

Isadel’s smile deepened.

She gently placed her hand on her father’s back and answered.

“Thank you, Father.”

But the emotion was brief; Isadel’s gaze slowly swept across the imperial banquet seats.

At the head table sat Hildwin and her five younger half-siblings.

The woman who had begun as the emperor’s mistress and finally usurped the empress’s seat.

And the five princes born of her.

After one fleeting glance at them, Isadel turned her head as if they did not exist.

It was the same elegant yet blatant contempt as always.

But her gaze, which would normally have passed on, did not easily fall away.

After hesitating, Isadel furrowed her brow and finally parted her heavy lips.

“…Empress.”

Merely speaking that title made the tip of her tongue feel as if it were burning.

But for the sake of her father, who cherished her, she decided to bend her pride for today at least.

“…I received the gift well.

I found it quite to my liking.”

In truth, it was an item she had ordered thrown out without even opening, but what did it matter?

Hildwin had no way of knowing anyway.

Hildwin blinked blankly, seeing Isadel speak to her for the first time.

She soon barely collected herself and answered.

“…I am relieved that Your Highness is pleased.”

At the sight of the imperial family in harmony for the first time in a while, the atmosphere of the banquet hall softened further.

* * *

The masked-play pleasantries were brief; Isadel wiped the false smile from her lips.

A harmonious family, a united imperial house.

She no longer had the energy to continue this disgusting play.

Just as she picked up a wine glass from the table to quench her burning thirst.

A familiar silhouette caught at the edge of her vision.

Dark eyes shining beneath black-brown hair.

A sharply tapered jawline and an elegant physique.

It was Heigan de Bromian, the empire’s finest bridegroom coveted by every young lady of high society, and heir to the Duchy of Brecen.

When their eyes met, he playfully raised an eyebrow.

‘Enjoying the party?’

‘Who knows.’

Isadel narrowed her eyes over the wine glass.

‘Where’s my gift?’

At her urging, Heigan’s smile deepened as if to show off.

‘I’ll show you later.’

‘Give it to me now.’

‘Tsk tsk, Isadel.

You don’t even know the virtue of patience.’

Heigan gave a sly smile as if teasing her.

Not a word passed between them, yet the two had already perfectly read each other’s thoughts.

Having spent so many years together, they could fathom each other’s intentions with just a look.

It was then that the emperor, seated beside her, whispered low into Isadel’s ear.

“I hear Heigan has prepared a surprise gift for you.”

At her father’s secret whisper, Isadel recalled the question he had casually thrown out not long ago.

“Isadel, what kind of jewel do you like?”

“I can have them all, so what meaning is there in liking one?”

“But if you had to choose just one?”

“Who knows… But why do you ask?”

“Oh, nothing.

Just wondering what jewels women like.”

A faint smile spread across Isadel’s lips.

There was no way a man with four older sisters would ask such a question because he truly did not know a woman’s tastes.

Heigan de Bromian would propose to her today, in this very place.

Isadel despised the mixing of noble and common blood to her very bones, but the Bromian family was a different story.

A collateral branch of the Lacent imperial house that had spread its marriage network across the continent, they were the most distinguished of distinguished houses, boasting unrivaled prestige even in Rastain’s noble society.

Though his rank was merely duke, Heigan was a man fully worthy of standing by her side as this nation’s consort in the future.

Even setting aside political reasons, there was no reason to refuse marriage to him.

Heigan was a childhood friend she had grown up with, and one of the few people Isadel could treat with ease.

Everything was going smoothly.

All that remained was for him to come up to the dais and ask for her hand.

It was then.

Thud!

The doors of the banquet hall slowly opened with a heavy thud.

“What is the meaning of this?”

No sooner had the emperor’s voice fallen than gazes converged on the entrance.

Everyone assumed it was merely a delegation arriving late.

But what leisurely revealed itself between the doors was a single man.

Faded blond hair, and a physique that was small despite his height.

And a face strangely calm, out of place in this situation.

The nobles began murmuring the moment they saw his shabby appearance.

“Who is that man?”

“From the looks of him, not a servant but a commoner, it seems.”

“Goodness, how dare such a person set foot in this place?”

As the hall stirred, the emperor did not hide his displeasure.

There was no reason to watch any longer an unidentified man who had disrupted his daughter’s birthday banquet.

“What are the imperial guards doing! Drag that man out at once!”

No sooner had the emperor’s command fallen than the imperial guards moved all at once.

But the blond man did not stir even as the guards surrounded him on all sides.

His gaze lingered on only one person: the princess in pure white seated beside the emperor.

Isadel looked down at the blond man meeting her gaze as if he were an insect.

“Bind that man at once!”

Just as the guards were about to rush the man at the emperor’s urging, their movements halted all at once.

“…What are the imperial guards doing! Drag that man out this instant!”

Despite the emperor’s furious command, the guards did not budge.

No, it was not that they were not moving.

They were desperately struggling against something.

The muscles of their entire bodies twisted grotesquely, and their faces contorted with pain.

The soldiers, who had struggled like that for a while, suddenly stopped moving.

Snap.

As if something had snapped, the last resistance vanished from their eyes.

At last, as if drawn by invisible threads, the guards turned all at once.

The dozens of blades that had been pointed at the man were now aimed at the imperial family on the dais.

“W-What is this!”

“How can the imperial guards point their swords at the imperial family!”

“How can the imperial guards point their swords at the imperial family!”

Amid the chaos that swallowed the hall, the blond man slowly parted his lips.

A sinister voice seeped into the banquet hall like a curse.

“Kill them.”