The day Isierd entered the imperial palace, the capital erupted into something resembling a festival.
The Emperor had issued a special decree to mark the occasion — a celebration of the son he had once lost, now returned to him.
Every great noble in the empire had gathered in one place, with the sole exception of those stationed abroad.
All of it in honor of Isierd’s arrival at the palace.
“…Everyone’s so worked up. What’s there to celebrate about one lowly wretch entering the palace?”
Adrian muttered under his breath, pressing down on the anxiety that had been squeezing tighter with each passing hour.
Standing before his mirror, Adrian still wore his golden hair and blue eyes — unchanged on the surface. Yet he was being careful, because there was no telling when the black magic’s hold might break.
Unpleasant rumors had already begun to circulate, whispering that the Crown Prince was feeling threatened by his newly returned sibling. But that was still far better than letting anyone see the magic unravel on his face.
“There. You’re all ready, Your Imperial Highness.”
“…”
“You may go out now. His Majesty the Emperor and Her Majesty the Empress are waiting outside.”
This was unprecedented.
The Emperor and Empress never appeared together in public — not for any ordinary occasion. Even on Adrian’s birthday, the two had always made separate entrances.
And yet…
Father is going out personally… just because that nobody is coming back!
A few days ago, the Emperor had invited Karla and Adrian to dinner, and there he had told them, in no uncertain terms, to prepare a sincere welcome for Isierd’s return.
Karla had seemed to expect as much. Adrian had been blindsided.
How can Father do this to me?
It was as if his own position had never entered the Emperor’s mind at all.
Were the rumors truly right? Was the Emperor actually considering stripping him of his status as Crown Prince and reverting him to merely a prince?
“That can’t be… I’m still better than that person. There’s no comparison between someone who has lived as royalty since birth and someone like him. …Besides, he was never even recognized by Father.”
Adrian murmured it to himself like a mantra, the way he always did whenever the dread crept in too close.
A moment later, a lady-in-waiting stepped into the room.
“Your Imperial Highness, you must go out now.”
“Yes.”
The sound of his title — Your Imperial Highness — washed over Adrian with a relief so sharp it almost hurt, and he gave a slow nod.
“I must go and welcome my brother. Today is a day for celebration, after all.”
“Truly worthy of the Crown Prince. Your heart is so generous, Your Highness.”
“What choice do I have?”
Adrian’s blue eyes flashed.
“If Father has decided it shall be so.”
⁂
Riersha had been moving about in a flurry since early morning, but when Isierd appeared dressed in the imperial formal uniform, she went wide-eyed.
Seeing him like this, he really did look…
“He literally looks like a real prince! Isierd, you’re so handsome!”
Riersha gushed with admiration, praising him over and over. Isierd’s expression shifted into something embarrassed and awkward.
Pernoa, who had just finished his own preparations and stepped out, caught those words and visibly grimaced.
“Riersha, come here.”
“Pardon?”
“Isierd is a prince now. You can’t stick to his side like that.”
To anyone else, it would have sounded childish and contrived — but when Pernoa said it with such gravity, there was a strangely convincing weight to it.
Riersha looked confused. Isierd shook his head gently and spoke in a soft voice.
“No, it’s fine. You can stay beside me, Riersha.”
“It’s not fine.”
“It is.”
Pernoa’s brow furrowed.
He seemed to pause for a moment, as if questioning why on earth he was engaging in this sort of petty back-and-forth.
“…So what’m I s’posed to do then?”
Riersha glanced back and forth between the two of them, clearly flustered.
That was when Sona, who had been watching from a slight distance, stepped closer and leaned down to speak to her.
“You don’t have to worry about that, Miss Riersha. You can simply stay with me. There will be a lot of people outside, so you’ll need to hold my hand tight, all right?”
“Mm-hm. Got it.”
“…”
“…”
“Then we’ll head out first. The two of you can resolve this amicably and join us when you’re ready.”
The moment Sona intervened, Pernoa and Isierd fell silent at the exact same time, as though they had rehearsed it.
Riersha took Sona’s hand and started for the door, but paused and glanced back once.
A carriage sent from the imperial palace waited in front of the manor — the carriage for Isierd.
“Isierd, see you later at the palace then.”
“Right. See you, Riersha.”
“Appa, come quickly too.”
“Yes. Go ahead and wait in the carriage.”
Click.
The door shut.
The room fell quiet. Pernoa crossed his arms and looked down at Isierd with a slant of cool appraisal.
When he spoke, his voice was measured and direct.
“Do not draw near Riersha any further, Isierd Declair. You know exactly what I mean.”
“Isn’t it a little late for that?”
“From here on, you will be exposed to every noble in this empire.”
Not just the nobles, either.
The Empress’s faction would never leave Isierd alone. And the imperial palace was a place filled with people who smiled to your face while sliding a blade between your ribs. Such people had an uncanny talent for finding the chink in anyone’s armor.
“Do not let Riersha get caught up in it. Not ever.”
If it ever came to light that Isierd held Riersha in any special regard…
It would be perfectly obvious who they would choose to target.
Until now, Pernoa had turned a blind eye to it. But the moment had come for Isierd to return to the palace, and Pernoa could no longer look away.
Because Riersha mattered to him too.
Even more than she mattered to Isierd.
“I understand what you’re saying.”
Isierd could not deny the truth of it.
Once he returned to the palace, he would be consumed with finding his footing there. And just by looking at how openly the Emperor had welcomed him, he could already tell what direction every noble’s thoughts would turn.
Had it not already been proven, time and again, that Duke Kineart and the Empress were the sort of people who would stop at nothing to get what they wanted? They had reached for black magic without so much as a flicker of hesitation.
He could not allow Riersha to become a target for people like that.
On that point, Isierd agreed without reservation.
“But isn’t it fine not to, if there’s no reason to?”
“Are you trying to play word games with me right now?”
“No. My personal feelings — how could they possibly matter more than Riersha?”
Isierd meant it. If it came to that, he truly intended to keep his distance from her.
But…
He smiled — a light, easy smile.
Because Isierd could already see clearly how the Empress would move, what cruelties she would set into motion. He understood the shape of it better than most.
After all, he himself had been her sacrificial lamb once before.
“If I were afraid of something as simple as that, I never would have chosen to return to the palace in the first place — not when I met the young lord that very first time.”
“Confidence is all well and good. But you’ll have to prove it’s more than words.”
“Yes. I might not have said this before, but I have something I want to do now.”
Something he wants to do?
Pernoa paused, studying him. Isierd smiled again, unhurried.
“And Riersha is part of it. I can’t have her cut out of the picture. So please don’t worry.”
For a moment, Pernoa’s eyes narrowed.
It was an answer that pricked at something — a strange, needling sensation he couldn’t quite dismiss.
“It would be wise not to do anything foolish, Isierd Declair.”
“Of course not. I would never do anything to hurt Riersha. I’ll be on my way now.”
Isierd left the manor.
The time had finally come to truly return to the imperial palace.
Pernoa watched him go, then pressed a hand to his temple.
The boy had said himself that Riersha mattered to him. There was nothing left to do but take him at his word.
⁂
The streets of the capital hummed and bristled with festive energy.
Word had spread that the celebrations would continue for a full month starting today.
But while the common people of the empire were bright-eyed and cheerful, the expressions of the nobles gathered there were rather more rigid.
“Miss Riersha, you should close the window. The wind is quite cold.”
“Mm-hm.”
“I’ll have to request a carriage with clear windows next time. You do love watching the world outside so much.”
Sona made a quiet note of it to herself.
Riersha obediently closed the window. Getting a cold now would be inconvenient, after all.
Because…
The Young Lord of Arachrene and his household are hereby ordered to remain at the imperial palace for the time being.
That letter had arrived this very morning, bearing the Emperor’s name.
He can’t actually be trying to express his gratitude, can he?
Riersha looked across at Pernoa, who sat facing her.
He must have sensed her gaze, because he glanced over and smiled. Seeing the tension drawn across her face, he held out his hand — an unspoken invitation. Riersha sank into his arms without a moment’s hesitation. Just as she’d always known — when anxiety crept in, there was nowhere more comfortable than here. As she settled against him, Pernoa’s hand began to pat her back in that unhurried, familiar way of his.
“What brought that on, all of a sudden? Are you worried about spending a few days at the palace?”
“Mm-hm. Just a little. …I’m scared I’ll make a mistake.”
“That hurts my feelings a bit.”
“What? Why does Appa feel hurt?”
Riersha tilted her head up to look at him.
Pernoa broke into a laugh, warm and helplessly fond.
“Riersha, it’s only proper to cause a little trouble out in the world sometimes.”
“…?”
“There’s no one who’d say anything about it, anyway.”
Besides, the kind of trouble Riersha could cause would never amount to anything truly serious.
To think this started as something I just said offhandedly…
Pernoa’s hand paused against her back, and his expression grew quietly thoughtful.
The fact that Riersha was beginning to strike out on her own — that was something to welcome, something to be glad of. And yet, astonishingly, Pernoa found that her growing independence left a small ache somewhere inside him that he hadn’t expected at all.
