The next morning.
A royal messenger arrived at the Kinzell manor.
He brought word that the emperor had returned from the eastern and western borders and that audiences could resume.
“His Majesty will arrive shortly. Please make your way to the conference hall.”
Following the servant’s cue, Ivyn and Dylan rose from their seats in the waiting room and began walking down the long corridor toward the conference hall.
Rustle- The corridor was so quiet that the only sound was the brush of fabric against fabric.
Yet, Ivyn’s mind was in turmoil with thoughts of the emperor.
Rocinel Dominias Jean Marchand. Ascended the throne at twelve, ruled under a regency until his coming-of-age ceremony… In the records, they call him a ruffian, a brat, a scoundrel, and… what else was it?
In the original story, his role wasn’t particularly significant.
But because of his position as emperor, every time he appeared, some major event or turning point in the story would unfold.
By the time Ivyn’s thoughts had wandered that far into the original plot, father and daughter had already reached the palace’s conference hall.
The first thing that drew her eyes inside was the massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
Below it, nobles in neat suits sifted through documents or whispered among themselves, keeping a careful eye on the proceedings, though none offered a greeting first.
“…”
Seeing her daughter tense, Dylan gripped Ivyn’s hand with his large, strong fingers.
“It’s alright. I’m right here.”
“Yes, father.”
True to his word, just having Dylan at her side seemed to soothe Ivyn’s nerves.
“Child, why are you being so formal out of the blue?”
“Ah… I-I guess I’m just a little nervous.”
“You’re going to keep making your old man feel slighted like this? Huh?”
“Hehe.”
Ivyn still felt uncomfortable addressing Dylan, since their bond was new for her, but she knew that with time, this would naturally change.
“Duke Dylan Kinzell and his esteemed daughter, Lady Ivyn Kinzell, are entering.”
They bowed politely toward the officials who had already arrived and taken their seats, then proceeded to their assigned places and sat down.
Fuu…
Ivyn let out a quiet breath as she scanned the interior of the conference hall.
The moment she took her seat, a volley of sharp, piercing gazes from the officials fell upon her like arrows.
No need to panic. Even in the original story, the imperial officials were never particularly favorable toward the Necromancer family.
She forced herself to ignore their scrutiny and turned her gaze forward.
Huh?
A familiar face caught her sky-blue eyes.
Sitting across from her was Theodore Leitner. No shining armor today, only a crisp white uniform coat adorned with epaulettes.
His expression was cold, his features tense as he stared straight ahead.
Shadows beneath his eyes, a sharp look worn down by fatigue—his handsome face looked rough and worn, as if he’d lost several nights of sleep.
I can only imagine… he probably got dragged up to his superiors and got chewed out for letting me slip away…
She had been staring at Theodore for a while when, suddenly, his gaze shifted toward her.
Even turning his head carried the precision of a cocked trigger being pulled.
Ivyn averted her eyes, not wanting to meet his stare, but…
Too late.
The first thing that struck her in the icy depths of his gaze was pure, lethal intent.
And why wouldn’t it?
Only a few days had passed since he had let a prisoner slip through his fingers—an incident that had even resulted in the forward base being utterly destroyed.
She could almost picture him being dragged before the Holy Nation’s tribunal, unable to lift his head in shame.
Geez… I really do feel sorry for him…
After all, he was the male lead.
And already having to go through such agony at the very start of the story…
Even Ivyn felt a twinge of sympathy.
But there was nothing she could do.
By surviving when she should have died in prison, the story had already diverged from the original at its very first branching point.
This scene was now an inevitable ripple of causality, or perhaps the sudden unfolding of a new episode altogether.
He can kill someone with that gaze… I can feel the cold from here. Brrr.
Ivyn fidgeted, trying to withstand the lethal intent radiating from Theodore’s eyes, and at that moment, a voice rang out.
“His Majesty the Emperor is entering!”
The herald’s announcement caused everyone gathered in the chamber to rise to their feet.
Moments later, the massive doors swung open, revealing the young emperor, flanked by the royal guards.
He wore a crimson velvet doublet and mantle, every bit the picture of regal authority.
Resting atop his platinum-blond hair, a mark of the royal bloodline, was a golden crown set with a huge emerald.
“Has everyone been well?”
With his red eyes, he swept across the nobles gathered in the chamber and gave a light wave of his hand—a gesture signaling that they could take their seats now, having shown proper respect.
Rocinel removed the crown from his head and casually placed it on the table before taking his seat.
He carried it as lightly as if it had been nothing more than a shepherd’s hat he’d just been wearing.
“So… there was a dispute between my especially favored Kinzell family and the Holy Nation of Stiavania?”
As described in the novel, the young emperor was a handsome man.
If Theodore represented the classic type of traditional beauty, Rocinel was more like a modern one.
Not the old-fashioned, noble kind of handsome, but the charming, approachable type… hmm?
…Wait a minute.
Ivyn, scanning his face with growing curiosity, froze.
What is this? Why does he feel so familiar, even though we’ve never met?
TL Note:
Hello~ Elle here. I took my sweet time doing updates, I know.
Piaf, my baby princess kitten and soulmate, urgently needs surgery. The cost is far beyond what I can handle alone, so I’ve prepared some special challenges to turn every bit of support into hope for her.
💬 Challenge #1: Every 5 unique comments = 1 extra chapter
💖 Challenge #2: Every 10 NU votes = 2 extra chapters
☕ Challenge #3: Every $15 on my Ko-fi goal = 3 extra chapters
Every comment, vote, and donation brings us one step closer to her surgery.
Thank you, truly, for supporting us.
