Bijonne was smiling—a radiant smile she’d never shown Sys. It wasn’t the smile itself that was the issue; Sys would’ve been thrilled to see it.
If only that man weren’t with her.
Why him, of all people?
Isnal wanted to tear his hair out. He’d hoped for their engagement to break, but not like this.
It can’t be serious, can it?
Rumors swirled about Bijonne, some questioning her conduct. Isnal had dismissed them, given her demeanor, but the scene before him shook his confidence.
“Oh!”
The man speaking tenderly to Bijonne suddenly swept her into his arms, his touch both careful and possessive.
“Your Highness?”
Sys’s face darkened as he strode toward them. The fallen earring crunched under his shoe, unnoticed.
“Haa…”
Isnal sighed heavily, watching Sys march forward.
Please, let this pass without incident.
Sys was usually composed, but when it came to Bijonne, his calm often shattered. Her rejections were bearable only because no other man had her attention.
Today, that belief broke.
A man blinded by jealousy was dangerous. Where Sys stepped, only shattered green fragments remained of the earring.
Act 5: Bonds
“Lighten up, will you?”
Rai nudged Rant’s side, giggling. Rant’s scowl deepened, his brow furrowing further.
“You find this amusing?”
“Yeah.”
“Ha!”
“Since it’s like this, why not enjoy it? Don’t you see the noble ladies gazing at you with longing?”
Rai smirked playfully, glancing at a corner of the ballroom. As he said, the attending noblewomen were staring at Rant with dreamy expressions.
Rant Veyron Elient, the new Marquis.
Recently inheriting the title, he was a powerhouse in the empire, the Empress’s only brother. His unwed status made his side an irresistible prize, sweeter than honey-dipped fruit.
Even without his power, he was undeniably captivating. With a face resembling the former Marquis, once deemed the empire’s most handsome man, a knight’s honed physique, and manners polished from youth, he was the ideal husband for young ladies hunting for a match.
It wasn’t just noble maidens vying for his attention. Widows and even married women with confidence in their charms extended tempting hands his way.
“Jealous, huh? So jealous,” Rai teased.
“If you’re so envious, take them all,” Rant shot back.
“Tch, don’t you know I’m devoted to my El? A hundred of those women couldn’t compare to the dirt on her heels.”
Rai, who’d been teasing moments ago, waved his hands dismissively, his face serious. Rant gave him an incredulous look at the sudden shift.
“You picked the right path, at least.”
“Heh, I think so too.”
Rai had entered Chestra Academy to keep a promise to Bijonne, studying relentlessly. Graduating with honors in three years, he earned Bijonne’s fulfillment of her own promise.
Adopted into a barony supported by the Pison merchant guild, Rai became a noble as he’d dreamed. His talent shone in politics and diplomacy, his keen perception and agile rhetoric making him a natural diplomat. Joining the empire’s foreign affairs department, he rose to prominence on his own merit, driven solely by his desire to protect El.
Though backed by Empress Bijonne, El’s circumstances made surviving noble society tricky. The social scene was a battlefield of invisible blades, and even the Empress’s shield couldn’t block them all.
Physical threats could be handled by Pison’s might, but deflecting unseen daggers was harder. Rai’s commoner roots, despite his nobility, could hinder El. To dominate the cutthroat social world, exceptional oratory was essential. Rai’s sole aim was to shield El from harm.
The foreign affairs department was the perfect place to hone his skills, especially post-war, where talent opened doors. That was Rai’s singular reason for choosing politics and diplomacy.
“Already whipped before marriage,” Rant remarked.
Though not public, Rai and El were engaged. Marrying her meant becoming Count Pison.
Even before her coming-of-age, El received countless proposals, some drawn to her beauty, but most eyeing her title. Many suitors were second sons or from declining houses, proof of their motives.
Despite her vulnerabilities, the Pison family’s influence and status as the Empress’s kin made them negligible. To stand beside El, Rai needed undeniable prowess, and he was diligently building that foundation to join her family without stirring trouble.
“Says the guy who can’t escape his sister’s skirts,” Rai retorted.
“Isn’t that obvious?”
No woman’s as perfect as my sister.
Rant smirked, unspoken words clear. Rai, fully agreeing, couldn’t argue and pouted.
“You’re such a sister’s fool you’ll end up an old bachelor.”
Like El, Rant received endless proposals, all tossed into the trash. He claimed no interest in marriage, but Rai knew the truth.
His standards are sky-high.
Rant’s ideal was Bijonne—his sister, the Empress, a once-in-a-millennium heroine, the epitome of noble grace. Her elegant poise, sharp rhetoric, and commanding charisma were Rai’s own ideals. With her as the benchmark, no lady could measure up. In a way, Rant was pitiful.
“Baron Esh?”
“Greetings, Count Godiva. Have you been well?”
“Ha, quite well!”
Rant’s standoffish aura kept nobles at bay, circling for a chance to speak. One, seizing familiarity with Rai, approached.
“Oh, Marquis Elient is here too,” Count Godiva said, feigning surprise.
Rant sighed inwardly but nodded out of ingrained courtesy.
“It’s been a while, Count Godiva.”
“Indeed! How’s the Chancellor?”
Godiva acted chummy, asking after Gabriel, the former Marquis, who’d passed the title to Rant to spend more time with his granddaughter, Shasha. But the Chancellor role wasn’t so easily shed—Gabriel was too young to retire, and no one could fill his shoes.
Despite his insistence on stepping down, Sys dangled a lure.
“The Chancellor staying in place ensures Shasha’s path to Empress.”
Imagining his granddaughter as the empire’s first Empress, Gabriel wavered. Sys sweetened the deal.
“I’ll assign the empire’s best to assist you. Do with them as you please.”
Competent aides would free up time. Sys drove the point home.
“I’ve already ordered an office for you in Shasha’s palace.”
Tempted by time with his granddaughter, Gabriel accepted. Smitten, he barely returned home, leaving Rant unable to recall his father’s face. Still, he replied calmly, “He’s doing well.”
“I keep meaning to visit, but work gets in the way, haha!”
No one believed Godiva could meet the Chancellor so easily, but neither Rant nor Rai called him out. Godiva, knowing this, pressed on shamelessly.
“Oh, my apologies for the late introduction. This is my daughter, Leah. Greet the Marquis and Baron.”
Godiva pushed his shy daughter forward.
“P-pleased to meet you, Marquis Elient, Baron Esh,” she said, smiling bashfully at Rant.
Rai clicked his tongue inwardly. She bore no resemblance to Bijonne. Even if she did, this approach was crude.
Though a bastard, Rant had long been the Elient heir, a known fact drawing many women. Some were bold, but most, like Leah, used their fathers as a front.
Their tactics were predictable: shy smiles at first, then acting like his betrothed. Bijonne’s rigorous upbringing ingrained impeccable manners in Rant, which women misinterpreted, despite his giving no encouragement.
Over time, Rant’s distrust of women grew, abandoning even basic courtesy except for Bijonne, El, and Shasha.
He’d do better chasing the Empress.
Rant worshipped Bijonne like a goddess. If she chose a bride, he might marry her.
