It was clearly a rare opportunity to forge a meaningful connection with the Willias ducal house.
And yet, even as time stretched on, Isierd gave no answer in the affirmative.
“You’re actually hesitating over this. Surely you know better than anyone that you can’t afford to.”
“…I was under the impression that Olivia Willias is Adrian’s fiancée.”
“And?”
Calius tilted his head, as if he couldn’t quite see the problem.
“You’ve lived outside the imperial palace for too long. You’re far too naive.”
He laughed — low and quiet, as though he found it mildly amusing.
Then his expression hardened into something cold, and he continued.
“An engagement is nothing more than a tool.”
A remarkably powerful one, at that.
Some might shake their heads and call it heartless, but there was nothing quite so convenient that also delivered such a clean return.
“And right now, Duke Willias is deciding whether or not to deploy that tool in your direction.”
In other words, the duke still believed Adrian held the stronger hand.
“The longer you delay, the further behind Adrian you’ll fall. Because in practical terms, you have no pieces on the board to play.”
Isierd’s expression shifted — the look of someone turning something over very carefully in their mind.
The Emperor’s words were utterly ruthless, but they weren’t wrong. Not in any meaningful way.
However dominant Isierd might appear right now, it was no different from a bubble — the kind that looked impressive until the moment it simply collapsed.
If Isierd continued to make no moves, the nobles would lose interest quickly. Their attention would cool and drift elsewhere.
No matter how brilliantly Isierd outperformed Adrian in terms of raw ability.
That alone was never going to be enough.
“Right now, even news about that child reaches you only through me. But if you had more pieces to command, that would be a different story entirely.”
Calius drove the point home with the air of someone lamenting a great pity.
Isierd fell quiet again, turning it over once more.
It was exactly as he said.
Outside of being imperial blood, Isierd had nothing.
Even using the divine beast’s birth as leverage was not something he could do — not yet. The circumstances didn’t allow for the divine beast’s power to be properly utilized.
But someday, he intended to stand proudly at Riersha’s side. And for that, he needed something far more tangible than bloodline.
When Isierd finally spoke, his thoughts had settled into quiet clarity.
“I will participate in next year’s Hunt Festival.”
“Now that is the answer I was hoping for.”
Calius smiled, thoroughly satisfied.
The news that Isierd would compete in the Hunt Festival spread quickly.
⁂
Willias Ducal Estate.
The moment Olivia received word that Isierd would be competing in next year’s Hunt Festival, she shot to her feet with a shriek of delight.
It was hardly the composed behavior expected of a noble lady, but Macton Willias found it charming enough — he smiled warmly at her reaction.
“Is it really true, Father?!”
Olivia pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks and demanded confirmation.
“So it seems.”
“I’m so happy! Now I’ll actually be able to attend the ladies’ parties. Is Prince Isierd skilled in combat? And what should I wear that day?”
Getting the answer she’d hoped for, Olivia spun in a giddy circle right where she stood.
Her rapid-fire questions made Macton Willias pause briefly, brow furrowing.
He still didn’t have enough information on Isierd Declair.
“He should be more than capable of posting an excellent result.”
Fortunately, Macton Willias knew the man that was Calius Declair very well.
Hadn’t Calius, ever mindful of the imperial family’s reputation, forbidden even Adrian — the sole imperial heir until now — from participating in the Hunt Festival?
And yet here he was, willingly putting Isierd forward.
That alone meant the prince’s combat abilities were nothing to scoff at.
In which case…
“First place can simply be arranged for him.”
The other noble heirs would hardly be able to perform at their best with a prince standing across from them anyway.
“Father, you’re the best!”
Olivia flung her arms around Macton Willias, eyes sparkling.
The moment had finally come — the moment she could hold her head high in front of the ladies who had been quietly mocking her all this time.
Her eyes glittered.
‘Every single shining moment is going to be mine.’
She was more than deserving of it.
“Then it’s settled that I’ll serve as his companion as well, yes?”
“The Emperor did not decline, so a formal confirmation should arrive soon. In the meantime, prepare thoroughly for your entry into the palace.”
“Of course.”
Olivia gave a confident nod.
The thought of being refused had never even crossed her mind to begin with.
She was the only daughter of House Willias, after all.
With such a dazzling pedigree behind her, Olivia had never once been refused anything in her life.
She had never failed to obtain something she desired, either.
A single word from her, a single gesture, and that was all it took.
Even objects that had been destined for someone else had a way of ending up in Olivia’s hands before long.
“So — Isierd wins the Hunt Festival, and then I enter the palace as his companion afterward. That would be best, don’t you think?”
Olivia very much preferred that no word circulate about her being the one to volunteer herself as the prince’s companion first.
The one who was left wanting was always supposed to be the other party.
Olivia wanted nothing more than to be the object of yearning — always graceful, always beautiful, always just out of reach.
That was the only life that made sense to her.
And Macton Willias was of exactly the same mind.
“Yes. That is my thinking as well.”
While Duke Kineart was currently in no position to assert himself, the most useful card available to the Empress was none other than Macton Willias.
‘This is the moment to make absolutely clear who holds the advantage.’
He intended to remind her that circumstances could shift at any time.
And through the authority the Empress held, he planned to reap every benefit that came with it.
“I love you, Father!”
Olivia said sweetly.
She was already looking forward to the Hunt Festival — to standing at its center, soaking in every envious glance the other ladies could offer.
She wanted to savor every second of it.
The dreamlike vision of Isierd dropping to one knee before her, pressing his lips to the back of her hand.
“I need to go shopping for something to wear to the Hunt Festival immediately.”
Olivia was utterly swept up in the feeling — as though she were the heroine of her own story — and the smile simply would not leave her face.
⁂
Having learned the true purpose of the orbs, Riersha began her approach in earnest.
However, she had decided from the start to exclude the existing elders from her list of targets.
The reason was simple.
‘There’s nowhere near enough time to win over the elders.’
That was it, plainly stated.
With no way of knowing exactly how many orbs she would need, going to the elders and asking for their support would be nothing short of foolish.
And so Riersha decided to shift her approach slightly.
Specifically—
Knock, knock.
“…Who is it?”
“Hello there!”
“R— Riersha, my lady?! In a humble place like this, how did you— P-Please, do come in.”
The shaggy-haired young man who had been hunched diligently over his accounting in his small office startled and scrambled to his feet.
He began frantically patting down the worn sofa with both hands, as if that might make it presentable.
Having never once in his time with House Arachrene hosted anyone of standing, he looked utterly at a loss, eyes darting in every direction.
“I’ll come in, then.”
Once it seemed he’d done what he could by way of preparation, Riersha stepped over the threshold.
“Y-Yes, please. Welcome. But, um— why exactly are you in my— how did you even know where to find me, my lady?”
“I have my ways.”
“…”
“The reason I came here is—”
The young man — Amon — forgot entirely to breathe, staring fixedly at Riersha’s lips.
Riersha grinned, her expression carrying the unmistakable look of someone with a scheme already well in motion.
In truth, she had only just that morning sent Oberon to fetch her a certain list.
“…I have brought the list of individuals currently nominated or under consideration as future elders, my lady… but why did you suddenly need this?”
“Because they’re useful. Shouldn’t I be making a good impression on the elders of the future?”
The influential elders and retainers whose names Riersha had already heard were already pledging their support to her older brothers as successors.
Or, if not that, they had long since declared their intention to stay out of the succession contest entirely.
Rather than exhaust herself trying to convince them, earning the steady support of those who would one day hold those seats was a far faster path forward.
Positions were always replaced by new people eventually.
Riersha looked at Amon standing before her and smiled brightly.
‘And there’s a reason I came to Amon first, above all the others.’
Her eyes sparkled.
Naturally, the person among the future elders who would wield the greatest influence was the one who controlled the money — wasn’t it obvious?
Riersha took a brief look around the interior of the office, then fixed her gaze directly on Amon.
And without preamble, she got to the point.
“You look busy, so I’ll be direct. I have to sit my formal advancement examination soon, and… I want your support, Amon. That’s why I’m here.”
