Meanwhile, the atmosphere of the party grew warmer with each passing hour.
The nobles who had been carefully watching the Empress now gathered around Isierd, with Arcmund leading the way.
Karla, who had been watching anxiously from nearby, turned to her handmaid once more.
“Has Adrian not arrived yet?”
“…He should be here soon. I was told he hasn’t gone far.”
“How long is that boy going to keep acting like a child.”
Karla was still staring restlessly toward the door when Sion, watching from a distance, shifted his gaze in the same direction.
In that short a time… he cast the black magic again?
The last time Sion had checked, it had been hanging by a thread, liable to shatter at any moment.
But now, it was impossible to miss the fact that Adrian had re-entered the hall — even if one had tried.
The black magic radiating off Adrian was oppressive enough to make one’s brow furrow in discomfort.
“I don’t know where he went, but the mood around him has completely changed. Did something good happen outside?”
Adrian’s complexion was noticeably brighter than before.
The Empress regarded him with a flicker of suspicion, but only briefly.
Adrian — who would be playing the most important role tonight — had seemingly recovered his composure and rejoined the party, and for the moment, she appeared to consider that a relief.
Sion turned quietly toward his own shadow and issued a silent, discreet command.
“It seems whoever we’re after approached the Crown Prince. Go check whether any traces were left behind. Basen.”
His shadow rippled once, then vanished swiftly into the dark.
⁂
“Ha ha, anyone could see he’s the very image of His Imperial Majesty! …Now, Prince Adrian always seemed a little puzzling, but — ahem, ahem!”
“To hear that Duke Arcmund has been standing faithfully by the First Prince’s side — what a relief. I would very much like to join your cause going forward. Ah — I am Marquess Kavand.”
“I look forward to working with you, Marquess Kavand.”
The nobles were busy heaping shameless flattery on Isierd, each vying for a place in his good graces.
Isierd had to greet them one by one with a pleasant expression on his face.
It was an exceedingly tedious business.
If not for the red Serinel bracelet swaying at his wrist…
He might well have abandoned all pretense of patience long ago and let his boredom show openly.
Isierd’s pale blue eyes drifted from the bracelet to Sion for just a moment — and at that precise instant:
“How kind of everyone to show such interest in the First Prince.”
“…H-Her Majesty the Empress?”
“To receive such a grand welcome the moment I arrive — it is a relief, truly.”
The nobles parted to either side.
Between them, Karla walked with effortless grace.
Isierd watched her approach in silence.
Adrian, who had slipped away earlier without notice, was already standing at her side.
The nobles who had used his absence as a convenient excuse to approach Isierd now began clearing their throats and quietly drifting away.
Isierd offered a smile of pure courtesy.
“It is all thanks to Her Majesty’s consideration.”
“Her Majesty the Empress, you said?”
Karla clicked her tongue — he had walked right into it.
“Surely you know that every prince within the imperial palace falls under my authority. Regardless of who your mother was, the law demands that you regard me as your mother, Isierd.”
The air in the room chilled in an instant.
Karla had just drawn attention to the circumstances of Isierd’s birth.
Adrian adopted a look of careful concern.
“Please don’t be too hard on him, Mother. …How could Elder Brother be expected to understand such things? He didn’t grow up in the imperial family from birth… Even if he knows it in his head, it wouldn’t be easy.”
Yet every word Adrian spoke was nothing but mockery.
What he had said, in plain terms, was that Isierd — who had spent his life outside the palace — was little more than a hastily assembled imitation of royalty.
Arcmund narrowed his eyes.
This is not good.
Karla’s reason for coming here was obvious.
She intended to stiffen the atmosphere and scatter the attention the nobles had been paying to Isierd.
And just as Arcmund had anticipated, the nobles began excusing themselves one by one.
Watching them go, Karla allowed a satisfied curve to settle on her lips.
Then, pointedly, she turned her gaze to Arcmund.
“Duke Arcmund, you have done something remarkable tonight. I am most grateful.”
“I did only what was natural, Your Majesty.”
“Yes. Only what was natural.”
Karla replied with perfect composure.
Then she stepped forward, closing the distance to Isierd one measured pace at a time.
“What the Duke did was entirely natural — nothing more. And that is precisely why you ought to feel ashamed of yourself.”
“What exactly is the meaning of that, Your Majesty? I will require a proper explanation.”
Arcmund’s voice was frost-edged.
Even Adrian, who had anticipated some friction, felt a tug of tension.
Karla spoke loudly enough for every person in the room to hear.
“At this very moment, the Duke is using what is merely natural as a pretense to exploit Prince Isierd — who understands nothing of this world — for his own gain. Am I wrong?”
“Preposterous.”
The claim was so absurd that Arcmund could only stare in disbelief.
By their very nature, nobles and royalty used one another. An arrangement without mutual benefit had never existed between them — nor could it ever.
You gave what the other wanted, and you received in return. That was the relationship between the nobility and the imperial family.
And Karla, who understood this better than almost anyone, was standing here making this ridiculous argument…
“…When you put it that way, it does sound rather like that, doesn’t it?”
Yet in every crowd, there were always fools willing to be swept along by outrageous words.
“Come to think of it, the Arachrene family has never actually explained where they discovered Prince Isierd, have they?”
“…You’re right. Could it be that he was subjected to some terrible brainwashing by the Arachrene family?”
“Surely not…”
Yet the Arachrene family did possess extraordinary abilities.
It was not entirely impossible.
In an instant, suspicious glances swung toward Arcmund and Pernoa.
“How did a family like yours manage to find the Prince… when the imperial household searched and searched and found nothing?”
Karla tilted her eyes as if to say: Go ahead and explain yourself.
⁂
Riersha had been watching the situation unfold with grave attention, but now she frowned in puzzlement.
“Wouldn’t saying that make things worse for her, though?”
Isierd had been locked away in the Kineart Ducal estate.
If that fact came to light, wouldn’t the Empress be the one in danger?
Pernoa looked at Riersha with something like quiet admiration at her question.
“It’s a risky move, yes. But that’s exactly what she’s counting on, Riersha.”
Counting on the risk?
Riersha tilted her head.
“What do you mean?”
“The Empress wants to overturn this entire situation. She wants to establish that the first family to discover Isierd was the Kineart family.”
It was an argument that strained credulity on its face.
Just then, Risideon — who had been quietly lost in thought — lifted his head with a look of dawning realization.
“Is she suggesting… that because the Kineart family deployed their private soldiers recently — the Arachrene family stole Prince Isierd away from them?”
“It certainly appears that way.”
“…!”
“She keeps the Arachrene family in check, rescues Duke Kineart from his position, and claims the credit for herself — all at once.”
Three birds with one stone.
After Pernoa’s explanation, Riersha felt the blow of it land squarely in her chest.
Even backed into a corner, the Empress was a terrifying creature — one who could bend any situation to her own advantage.
“How did you manage to live watching someone like that for years, Brother?”
“Because of her, I’m probably the fastest among you at figuring out what she’s thinking.”
“…And that’s a good thing?”
“It’s not bad.”
“You really are sometimes…”
A complete lunatic. A spectacular one, at that.
Ricador swallowed the rest of the words.
Then he turned his attention back toward the confrontation unfolding between the two.
“Grandpa…”
Riersha gazed at Arcmund with quiet desperation.
She prayed with everything she had that he would not fall into Karla’s trap.
Across the room, Berun Kineart — watching the scene from a distance — could neither move forward nor back. Curses were piling up silently behind his teeth.
Of all people — why did she have to go after that man!
Because the target was none other than Arcmund Arachrene.
It would seem sudden to those who didn’t know, but there was a name that circulated behind closed doors in social circles — one used for Pernoa: mad dog.
And the man who had raised that mad dog was standing right there.
Arcmund Arachrene himself.
“You asked where we discovered the Prince — when even the imperial household could not find him?”
Arcmund laughed — the quiet, unhurried laugh of a man who found the whole thing increasingly amusing.
“I do apologize that my family was simply too capable, and found the Prince before anyone else could, Your Majesty. From now on, I shall be sure to offer you a small hint in advance.”
A sharp collective intake of breath rippled from every direction.
“This is going to give me a headache. I told him to keep that personality of his under control.”
Pernoa, watching in silence, gently covered Riersha’s eyes with one hand.
And Riersha — embarrassed now that her worry had turned out to be completely unnecessary — made a halfhearted show of covering her ears.
