“I have a daughter who just entered the Academy myself, Young Lord. As fathers of daughters, I imagine we have quite a lot in common.”
“Is that so?”
Pernoa showed a flicker of interest.
“Yes. I know the Academy is safe, but I still worry endlessly.”
“There are eyes everywhere, after all.”
“Indeed. I lie awake at night dreading the day she might come home with a boyfriend…”
The nobleman had been pouring his heart out in commiseration, but he flinched mid-sentence. Pernoa’s brow had drawn together, his displeasure plainly written on his face.
“…A boyfriend?”
Pernoa smiled — a crooked, lopsided thing.
“My daughter won’t be doing anything of the sort.”
“……”
“The very idea.”
The nobles laughed awkwardly, thrown off balance.
“Ha — haha. It seems you are extraordinarily fond of your daughter, Young Lord.”
“Of course. The older they get, the more your heart simply aches for them…”
Even as they said these things, the nobles were stealing glances at Riersha, who stood nearby with an expression of complete bewilderment. Their minds were turning rapidly.
He must have refused to make any formal announcement — afraid the Imperial family would take notice — and then departed for the border on purpose.
But then how did one explain Risideon Arachrene?
How did one explain the cadet branch of the Arachrene family beginning to act entirely on its own?
…Is it meant to lull the Imperial family into complacency?
The nobles tilted their heads in quiet uncertainty.
It was, admittedly, a rather strained line of reasoning.
Who in their right mind would gamble their entire house on a scheme like that? And yet — if the house in question was the Arachrene Ducal family, the calculus changed entirely.
They possessed a transcendent kind of power, one capable of making the impossible not merely possible, but inevitable.
The nobles’ minds moved quickly.
There were still pieces that didn’t quite fit — but one thing was abundantly clear.
“Congratulations on returning safely from the border, Young Lord.”
“Indeed. It is precisely because the Arachrene family stands watch that the Empire knows any peace at all, is it not?”
Whatever the rumors had said about the Arachrene family’s precarious standing, the house before them looked anything but diminished.
Watching the nobles whose every thought was visible on their faces, Pernoa allowed himself a faint smile.
He had dropped a few well-placed words, and in an instant they had turned from wary observers into fawning admirers. He could see straight through them.
“I appreciate the kind words. But the Arachrene family cannot remain shut out of the capital forever.”
“What do you mean by that…?”
“His Majesty has never looked favorably upon our house. Given that, we have begun weighing our options.”
Pernoa smiled pleasantly as he spoke.
“Are you suggesting the family would relinquish its private army, my lord?”
Someone ventured the question with great care.
“War grows tiresome after a while.”
Noble houses that maintained private armies were obligated to deploy them when war broke out — an inescapable duty bound by law and tradition.
And Pernoa had just made it known that he was prepared to set that obligation down.
The nobles considered the implications.
If the Arachrene family — which had stood in opposition to the Imperial throne for generations — were to surrender that obligation…
What came after?
A noble house relieved of its military duty retained the legal right to refuse a call to arms entirely.
The realization settled over the room like ice water. The nobility had, all this time, entrusted the safety of the Empire almost entirely to the Arachrene family — and they had never truly reckoned with that until this moment.
“Even I have my limits. Sometimes I simply want to manage my house in peace.”
Pernoa’s crimson eyes flickered with a sharp, cutting light.
The nobles swallowed against dry throats.
He was threatening them.
If they continued to align themselves with the Emperor’s wishes and obstruct the Arachrene family’s entry into the capital — he would wash his hands of every obligation, duty be damned.
“As it happens, His Majesty and I are of the same mind on this matter, so I am considering it quite favorably.”
Watching him from her place at his side, Riersha felt a quiet admiration bloom in her chest.
In the span of a few breaths, he had turned the entire board around.
⁂
Adrian had swept into the banquet hall in high spirits — but those spirits were steadily deflating.
What is this?
The attention that should, by rights, have been fixed entirely on him was being divided elsewhere.
He was surrounded by nobles, and yet somehow he kept losing the room.
What is everyone looking at?
Adrian turned his gaze sharply toward the source of it all.
There was the Young Lord of Arachrene.
And beside him…
“Who is that child?”
There was a small girl — young, and entirely unfamiliar to him.
Duke Marcella, who had approached to offer the Crown Prince the obligatory words of congratulation, now wore an expression of poorly concealed discomfort.
It seems Risideon said nothing to him.
Seeing that the Crown Prince had no idea who Riersha was, it was clear no one had thought to inform him.
The moment Adrian realized that everyone else already knew something he did not — that he alone had been kept in ignorance — his pride would ignite. And that fury would pour itself directly onto Risideon.
Duke Marcella knew well that Adrian’s way of releasing anger tended toward violence. She hesitated before answering.
“…She is the youngest daughter of the Arachrene family.”
But she could not keep the Crown Prince waiting, and so she answered despite herself.
For the briefest instant, something hardened in the Crown Prince’s expression — and then smoothed itself away.
“The other nobles are also seeing her for the first time today,” Duke Marcella added quickly.
But the Crown Prince did not appear to hear her.
“Really, Risideon.”
He smiled brightly, his expression shaped into something that resembled hurt.
“If you had told me in advance, I would have brought a gift.”
“My apologies.”
“Step away with me for a moment. She is the younger sister of my personal guard, after all — I can hardly greet her empty-handed. I trust you will excuse us.”
The Crown Prince drew Risideon away with him and departed.
Duke Marcella watched them go, her eyes narrowing to thin slits.
⁂
Crack.
Risideon’s cheek snapped to the side.
That, apparently, was not enough. The sound continued — again and again.
Both cheeks had gone red. Risideon stood bent at the angle that suited the Crown Prince’s reach, unmoving, utterly still.
“A younger sister?”
“……”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Adrian exhaled in harsh, ragged breaths, his eyes blazing.
“My apologies.”
Risideon repeated the same answer — the only answer he ever gave.
The punishment would continue until the Crown Prince’s mood lifted. There was nothing else to do but wait.
At least today is an important day. It will end soon enough.
Risideon thought this without feeling.
This was simply one of the many things he had endured over the past two years.
He remembered the first time Adrian had raised a hand against him — remembered seeing the thrill that had lit up those pale blue eyes.
After that, Adrian had called for him whenever his temper soured.
The forms of punishment were many and varied.
Some days it ended with hands, the way it had today. When Adrian was truly furious, there was the cellar.
“That half-wit Mother mentioned — that was her, wasn’t it?”
“……”
“Why aren’t you answering me?”
Adrian had been smirking as he spoke of Riersha in those terms, but his smile disappeared without warning. The quiet crimson gaze watching him had begun to irritate him.
“What an insolent look in your eyes.”
“……”
“Know your place.”
“……”
“Mother said it herself. You have nowhere to go, so you had no choice but to come crawling back. You’re not a particularly well-trained dog, but you’re useful enough.”
Adrian raised his hand again.
He was bringing it down hard when —
“Crown Prince.”
“…Mother?”
Adrian whipped around, startled.
The Empress stood there.
“Abandoning the banquet hall,” she said, her tone measured and cool.
“…I apologize.”
The Empress regarded Risideon briefly.
His cheeks were red. He was in no condition to return to the party beside them.
If they went back now, the nobles would piece together what had happened.
“You will return when you have composed yourself,” she said to Risideon.
“Yes, Your Imperial Highness.”
“Learn to read the room, Crown Prince. Are you truly incapable of understanding your own priorities? To absent yourself on a night of such importance!”
The Empress exhaled sharply and delivered her reproach. Adrian bowed his head, biting down on his lip.
Just a moment ago, he had been the one dealing punishment. Now he was the one being scolded, and Risideon had witnessed it. Shame crawled up Adrian’s throat.
And that expression on Risideon’s face — that composed, unreadable calm — scraped against every raw nerve Adrian had.
Wretched Arachrene.
Adrian clenched his fist.
Risideon was a dog he himself had brought home.
And before him, Risideon had never once dared to act otherwise.
When I become Emperor, I will never let him run loose.
A memory surfaced — the Arachrene Young Lord at one of His Majesty’s gatherings, some time ago.
The Young Lord had not so much as acknowledged him. Not a glance. Not a word.
An unmistakable slight.
Even the legendary Duke Marcella had come to him personally to introduce herself — and that Young Lord, a mere young duke, had looked straight through him as though he weren’t worth the trouble.
“Let us return, Crown Prince.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Adrian fell into step behind the Empress.
But inwardly, he was grinding his teeth to dust.
What is so terrifying about a mana awakening? Why does everyone tremble at the mere mention of it?
It was something Adrian had never been able to understand.
“When the party ends, go down to the cellar and wait for me, Risideon.”
Unable to contain himself, Adrian threw the words over his shoulder as he walked away.
Karla’s brow creased faintly, but she did not intervene.
One dog receiving a little punishment was hardly cause for alarm.
“Utterly contemptible.”
That would have been true — if those words had not reached their ears just then.
