Act 4: Jealousy
“Arrest everyone involved and shut this place down for good.”
“As you command, Your Highness.”
At Sys’s order, the knights moved swiftly. Months of reclusive effort had finally paid off, but instead of relief, Sys felt a bitter pang.
“It’s finally over,” he murmured.
A man in his thirties approached, frowning. Sys turned, bowing respectfully.
“You’ve worked hard, brother.”
“Hardly just me—we all did,” said Dais, the empire’s Second Prince, waving off the praise.
“But the real trouble lies ahead.”
With Dais’s help, they’d caught those illegally distributing hallucinogens in the empire. Yet, these were merely the tip of the iceberg. The scale of the operation suggested high-ranking nobles were involved.
As Crown Prince, Sys couldn’t touch them without solid evidence, lest he give the First Prince, eyeing his position, an opening to strike.
“I know,” Sys said, his face grim.
Dais clicked his tongue. His beloved younger brother bore a crushing burden. With weak support and no interest in power, Dais had long withdrawn from the succession race—a freedom Sys, the Emperor’s only legitimate heir, couldn’t afford. Stepping back would mean death’s blade at his throat. All Dais could do was occasionally aid him.
“By the way, I hear you’re in quite a passionate romance?”
“Cough!”
Dais’s sudden jab caught Sys off guard, making him choke.
What’s this?
Sys, always mature beyond his years due to his title’s weight, was blushing and flustered at the mention of love. Dais’s eyes gleamed as he nudged Sys’s side.
“Is it good?”
“You’re too kind.”
“Rumor has it that carriages filled with Reisha flowers line up daily at the Elient estate.”
Reisha flowers symbolized the Crown Princess. Their daily delivery to Bijonne, Sys’s betrothed, was akin to a beast marking its territory—a sign of his possessive devotion.
“So, does Lady Elient like it?”
“Well…”
Sys’s face fell, a bitter smile forming as he recalled Bijonne’s impassive expression. Dais, expecting a lighthearted reply, gave an awkward smile at the heavy response.
“Ahem, some women don’t care for flowers, you know.”
“She must be one of them.”
That day, so meaningful to me, meant nothing to her.
The day the Reisha flowers bloomed vividly, he met her. Even now, closing his eyes, he could see her startled face under a shower of petals.
Each time he saw Reisha’s flowers, his heart fluttered. Every year, when they bloomed, he personally picked the first blossom and sent it to her, hoping she’d remember that day.
“Reisha flowers are good for women’s health,” the Emperor had once mentioned casually, relaying her words. “She asked to make tea and jam from them, so I allowed it.”
She found his gifts burdensome, likely repurposing them to avoid discarding them outright.
The flowers, so precious to him, meant little to her. It stung. In a fit of spite, he deliberately sent only edible blooms to the Elient estate, hoping she’d notice his feelings.
“Ahem.”
Seeing Sys’s face grow darker, Dais regretted his teasing. As the saying goes, one shouldn’t meddle in matters of the heart. He clamped his mouth shut.
“Your Highness, it’s time to return,” Isnal called, approaching after assisting the knights. They’d lingered too long—First Princess’s faction might notice.
“My, look at the time!” Dais exclaimed theatrically, seizing the chance to change the subject.
“Where to next?”
“Do I ever plan my destinations? Wherever my feet take me, that’s where I go,” Dais replied.
Known for his obsession with alchemy, Dais’s true vice was his wanderlust. He rarely stayed in one place long—sometimes vanishing for a month, sometimes a day, with only sporadic proof he was alive.
“Then I’ll be off. Stay well, Your Highness.”
“You too, brother.”
“I’m always fine.”
Dais spread his arms dramatically. Sys smiled, bowing as Isnal urged him to leave.
Watching Sys’s retreating figure, Dais’s smile faded. He could roam freely, unburdened, but Sys was caged in the palace, facing constant threats. If Dais were in his place, he’d have lost his mind long ago.
“Maybe I’ll head north.”
His mother’s family, the Asteia house, lived there. Dais felt closer to his cousin, Viscount Asteia, than his palace siblings.
Thinking of Asteia brought to mind a little girl who once toddled after him like a duckling, crying when they parted. She’d be a proper lady by now.
“Hmm…”
Sys scrutinized a market stall, his serious expression fraying Isnal’s nerves. They’d been away from the palace for days. They needed to return before the First Princess’s faction grew suspicious, yet Sys browsed accessories leisurely.
“Y-Young master…” Isnal caught himself, biting his tongue to avoid revealing Sys’s identity in public.
Sys, oblivious to Isnal’s glare, studied a pair of earrings intently. Their vivid green orbs, like polished jade, reminded him of Bijonne’s eyes.
“You’ve got an eye for quality, sir!” the stall owner chimed, spotting Sys’s interest. “These come from the far west, rare gems known only to a few. Priceless, really, but for you, just three silvers!”
The owner held up three fingers, spinning a tale without hesitation. No stall would sell true gems, yet he spoke as if they were treasures.
“You won’t find these elsewhere. Even noble ladies can’t get them!”
They don’t want them because they’re worthless, Isnal thought, scoffing at the owner’s greasy grin.
The earrings weren’t gems but colored tree sap, hardened into beads. Decent for commoners, but no match for true jewels. Sys, raised among fine treasures, surely knew this. Isnal couldn’t fathom why he’d consider such trinkets.
“Gift these to your sweetheart, and you’ll get a kiss, no doubt!”
“Give them to me,” Sys said.
“Your—ugh!”
Before Isnal could protest, Sys paid and took the earrings, tucking them carefully into his pocket. As they left the stall, Isnal grumbled.
“Why buy such junk?”
“They’d suit Bee.”
“For Lady Elient?”
Isnal pictured Bijonne. A refined noble lady and cheap earrings? The mismatch was absurd. She’d likely toss them aside.
“Would she even like those?”
Even the rare gifts from Sys and the Emperor were accepted reluctantly. Cheap earrings wouldn’t fare better.
“Maybe,” Sys said, pausing to inspect the earrings again. Their green glow, so like Bijonne’s eyes, held his gaze.
“You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t kick you harder than last time,” Isnal muttered.
Sys chuckled softly. He’d once tried for a kiss, earning a bruised shin.
She’d thought they were alone, but hidden knights, and Isnal from afar, had seen it all. Isnal had fumed, unable to let it slide. Not only had his shin—she’d stomped his foot with her heel without hesitation.
An Empress should embrace the empire’s people with warmth. To Isnal, Bijonne was utterly unfit as Sys’s partner or future Empress.
“Knowing that, why bother…”
Thud.
The green earring slipped from Sys’s hand to the ground. Isnal, mid-grumble, looked at him curiously.
“Your Highness?”
Sys’s golden eyes blazed, fixed on something distant. Isnal followed his gaze.
“What!”
