Madius announced that he would host a party to celebrate Karl’s recovery, but from Karl’s perspective, everything about it felt dreadful.
First of all, Karl was completely unprepared to suddenly present himself to the world like this. The books he had read in the imperial library were meant to prepare for what lay ahead, not for attending a party right away.
He didn’t even have clothes for a party, nor the money to buy any, and he had no idea where or from whom he should order them.
And etiquette and dancing! He knew nothing at all.
He had been so busy in the library searching for strategies, tactics, and clues about the main plot of the original story that he hadn’t even thought about these things.
On top of that, he didn’t know how many noble families there were, what kind of power they held, or how they were connected to one another.
The only families Karl knew were a few major ones that had survived even after Eingir became emperor in the original novel. And he had no way of leaving a good impression on them.
Everything was a complete mess across the board, and he had no idea how to fix it.
“Karl, let’s start by learning etiquette and dancing.”
Fortunately, Cecil, a member of the Felt family stepped in to help manage the situation before Karl could.
Facing Cecil, Karl awkwardly followed her movements, trying to learn imperial etiquette. But there was no way Cecil could know everything a prince was supposed to master.
After some thought, Karl decisively gave up on dancing for now. In the first place, even if he wanted to dance at the party, he had no partner.
The only woman Karl knew was Cecil, but she was merely his nanny, with no power or status. It would be hard to even call her a proper noble. Cecil wouldn’t be able to attend the party.
That meant Karl would have to attend alone. He couldn’t rely on Cecil forever.
“You there. You’re a servant, right?”
“Yes, Sir Karl.”
“Please teach me etiquette.”
“…Yes, sir.”
Karl immediately left the room and grabbed the first servant he saw, asking to be taught etiquette.
Even the imperial servant was visibly taken aback, as if he had never expected Karl to do something like this.
“Straighten your back and shoulders. Never drag your feet when you walk. Push off the ground with your big toe and maintain a dignified, powerful stride. Your chin must not jut out past your chest. Keep your neck upright and tuck your chin in.”
Because his body had been weakened and broken down from long illness, everything about Karl’s posture was a mess. It was as if he had to relearn everything from scratch, like a baby taking its first steps.
Fortunately, and quite astonishingly, Karl absorbed the servant’s strict instructions at an incredible pace.
“Good. We can move on right away. …Ahem….”
The servant, overly pleased by how well Karl was keeping up, smiled softly before awkwardly clearing his throat.
This doesn’t feel like my body.
Karl was astonished by how much strength filled his body, so much so that even he could hardly believe it, and by how easily it moved according to his will.
In the original story, the character who had been cured of the illness did fight while freely expending mana, but his health hadn’t improved so suddenly like this.
In contrast, Karl had gained strength and stamina that seemed impossible to come from his frail body, yet he did not obtain the overflowing mana he had expected.
In just a single day, Karl managed to fully learn the etiquette. The problem, however, was that he couldn’t memorize which etiquette to apply in every possible situation.
What kind of lunatic came up with this? Who is supposed to memorize all of this?
He grumbled inwardly, but not only the imperial family. Servants and maids alike had all memorized it.
In the end, the only thing left was habitual memorization.
“Is it possible to get in touch with the Felt family?”
Next, Karl tried to contact the Felt family through Cecil. They might not be able to obtain something like the Corpse Flower, but perhaps at least communication was possible.
Even though he was a prince, Karl had absolutely no backing. It had gotten so bad that he didn’t even have a single coin to his name.
Because he had spent his entire life bedridden from illness, he had never even received funds to maintain his dignity.
“I can try to contact them. But I’m not sure it will be of any help. The Felt family is very weak…”
The answer he received was pessimistic.
Only then did Karl realize that he actually knew nothing about the Felt family, and he was able to hear a more detailed explanation from Cecil.
“His Majesty always married into a powerful family, and then into a weak one. The Empress is a direct descendant of the Duchy of Lairas, and the late Empress Minerva was the daughter of a baron.”
Ilias’s mother, Adne, came from the Beria count family, which had amassed enormous wealth through salt mines. And then Karl’s mother, Viole’s family—the Felt family…
“The Felt family… actually has nothing.”
Nothing at all.
“They simply handle minor administrative duties within the empire. Even though they are nobles, their status isn’t hereditary. They’ve only formed a small family by consistently producing low-ranking administrators over a long period of time. Your mother, Lady Violet, was also working as an administrator when she caught His Majesty’s attention…”
In other words, there was nothing Karl could receive from the Felt family.
This is hopeless. There’s no answer.
Karl fully came to terms with his situation.
It was no different from being cast alone into a vast ocean.
“Then… there’s no other choice.”
At last, Karl made up his mind.
If he didn’t have anything, then he would have to take from those who did.
***
“Have you heard about the Fourth Prince?”
“They say he suffered from an incurable disease and only managed to recover a few days ago?”
“Yes, and I heard it was only thanks to the Third Prince, Sir Ilias, taking pity on him and helping him.”
“Tsk tsk, His Majesty can be quite heartless. Something that could be treated so easily.”
Karl’s story made for rather entertaining gossip, so the nobles would casually bring him up as light conversation.
“Could it be that he has some lowly blood mixed in?”
“Shh, watch your words.”
“I just hope he doesn’t get any foolish ambitions. He is a prince, after all.”
“Surely not. If he has any sense, he wouldn’t even dream of going against Sir Valos. Isn’t it already decided?”
“But the Crown Prince hasn’t been officially appointed yet.”
“I really can’t tell what His Majesty is thinking.”
“Come to think of it, Sir Valos this time…”
And just like that, the topic passed by lightly.
No one expected anything from Karl, nor were they truly interested in him.
Tap.
“……”
Tap.
“Sir Eingir?”
Tap…
Eingir who had been lazily resting his chin on his hand while tapping the table stopped.
On the board before him, where he had paused mid-thought, the tangled game pieces sat quietly, waiting for the next move.
“…Ah, my apologies. Perhaps because the weather has gotten colder lately, I find myself zoning out when I’m somewhere warm.”
“Hehe, not at all. Watching like this is quite enjoyable in its own way.”
Eingir smiled faintly as he looked at his fiancée Gavianne whose marriage had been postponed due to Minerva’s death.
Gavianne also narrowed her eyes and smiled.
In other words, stop daydreaming and make your next move already.
What a sly woman.
Eingir made his move. As if she had been waiting, Gavianne immediately responded, and for a moment, the two moved their pieces almost recklessly, like children.
Then, once they reached the end of the sequence Gavianne had anticipated, the game came to an abrupt stop.
“I’ve lost.”
“……”
At Eingir’s declaration of defeat, Gavianne’s beautiful face froze stiff like a sculpture.
She declared defeat by following exactly the sequence of moves Gavianne had wanted, with precise, almost surgical accuracy.
In other words, there was no point in staying any longer. Better to end it quickly and leave.
What a snake.
“You seem quite worried about your younger brother.”
At Gavianne’s words, Eingir who had just been about to stand shifted his posture instead. She had cut in at just the right moment, leaving him no chance to get up.
Eingir and Gavianne were still, at least publicly, engaged. If he were to brush off her words and stand up now, it would bring him no benefit.
“I am quite worried.”
“Oh dear, then perhaps you should go visit him?”
“I’m not that worried.”
“Really?”
Eingir tried to end the conversation and rise somehow, but he couldn’t remove the mask he was wearing. In the end, there was no way for him to escape Gavianne’s persistence.
Tap.
At last, Eingir pretended to fall back into thought and tapped the table with a game piece from the finished match.
It was a signal: don’t talk to me.
Gavianne’s eyelashes twitched, but she couldn’t interrupt him. Instead, she simply smiled and sipped her tea.
Resting his chin on his hand, Eingir gazed at the board he had lost, his eyes filled with quiet melancholy.
His appearance was so beautiful that it drew admiration on its own. Noble like a divine messenger, full of dignity, and yet carrying a hint of sorrow.
Tap.
Another one I’ll have to kill. It would’ve been better if he had just died from his illness. What a nuisance.
With a face like an angel, Eingir thought that about Karl.
Tap.
Ilias… what a troublesome thing you’ve done. If you wanted amusement, you should’ve gone to your mother and begged her for it.
Eingir knew that Ilias had helped Karl simply because he craved an exciting adventure.
Tap.
Ilias… as expected, you’re keeping your guard up and searching for a way out. More troublesome than Valos, who’s grown complacent.
Tap.
But thanks to Madius holding Adne hostage, controlling him is simple. Once we have Adne in our hands, he’ll walk in on his own and offer up his neck.
Tap.
Karl… having too many options is a problem as well.
In the briefest moment, Eingir worked out how he would kill his brothers.
Like the game he had just played with Gavianne, he casually sketched out a future in which he would harvest the lives of his own blood.
“What amusing thoughts are you having?”
“…….”
At just the right moment, when his silence had stretched a bit too long for someone sitting before his fiancée, Gavianne lightly interjected, forcing Eingir out of his thoughts.
“Your gaze is just too beautiful.”
What a fox.
“Could it compare to yours, Sir Eingir?”
What a snake.
Eingir imagined Gavianne’s future.
Gavianne wasn’t bad.
She would bear a son of good blood.
She has an excellent lineage worthy of an empress, but she’s too ambitious and too clever to be entrusted with power.
Eingir smiled like an angel as he thought this.
***
The party began. Nobles mingled and exchanged conversation, subtle glances passing quietly between them.
It was a celebration of Karl’s recovery, but that was only a pretense.
No one truly cared whether the powerless Fourth Prince lived or died.
Amid the party’s dazzling lights and sweet delicacies, Ilias chatted idly with knights about martial skills, then spoke with a childlike smile about the mysterious places adventurers dreamed of exploring.
“I heard you set foot on the lands of the northern Balturan tribe.”
“Ah! Yes! It was incredible!”
“And I hear you obtained medicine for Prince Karl as well. Truly impressive.”
“Hahaha. No, it would have been impossible on my own. I begged my mother and took knights and mages from Beria with me. And, well, being a prince, I was treated fairly well.”
At their praise, Ilias laughed heartily and waved it off.
Sly bastards.
Ilias was sick of it.
If they wanted to fight over power, they should do it among themselves, yet they kept trying to subtly drag in Ias, who had said countless times he wanted no part in the struggle for the throne.
Karl… in the end, you never came to me.
Ilias quietly stepped back from the crowd, leaning against a corner of the banquet hall as he slowly scanned his surroundings.
He had thought Karl would come looking for him.
Etiquette aside, if only to secure formal attire, he had been certain Karl would seek him out for help.
More than anything, Ilias was the only person Karl could rely on at this party. Cecil couldn’t accompany him into the hall.
Cecil might be Karl’s nanny, but that was all. She held no status. Even among the nobility, she stood at the very bottom and was practically a commoner. She had no right to attend a party hosted by the emperor.
In other words, Karl had been thrown alone into this pit of desire.
Does he have no plan at all? Or is he truly intending to give everything up?’
To avoid the people who kept edging toward him, Ilias spent his time alone, deliberately wearing an expression of discomfort.
His gaze drifted toward one side of the hall, where his mother Adne stood surrounded by many people while smiling as she conversed.
It would have been nice to stay by her side, but in a place like this, it could easily be interpreted politically, so it was better to keep some distance.
Ilias rolled his eyes and watched his younger siblings toddling along, holding the hands of the other imperial consorts. He then turned his gaze to the most striking presence in the hall: his second brother, Eingir.
They’re making quite a fuss over a man who’s already taken.
Ilias himself was quite handsome in a rugged way, but Eingir was truly beautiful, as if sculpted by a god. People of all ages were clamoring for a chance to speak with him.
But Gavianne clung tightly to his arm, covering her mouth with a fan as she whispered to him, making it difficult for anyone to approach.
To begin with, Eingir didn’t particularly like gatherings like this. He was practically using Gavianne as a shield to hide behind.
Brother Eingir must have already given up on the throne…
There was something about him that gave Ias an unexplainable sense of unease.
“…….”
“…….”
Their eyes met.
With that angelic face, Eingir smiled faintly and gave a small nod. Ilias returned it with his usual easygoing grin and a nod of his own.
Damn it.
Ilias shuddered inwardly in discomfort.
Eingir unsettled him, but what disgusted him most was the fact that he was putting on a mask and playing along like this.
Ah! I want out!
He had enjoyed himself when he went to gather the Frostwind Corpse Flower…
Leaning his head back against the wall, he gazed up at the endlessly high ornate ceiling of the banquet hall.
All of this was a huge cage. As long as Madius remained emperor, he could not leave this place.
Because his mother Adne was being held hostage.
Lost in his chain of thoughts, Ilias had momentarily neglected to keep track of his surroundings, and he was caught off guard when the atmosphere of the banquet hall suddenly grew noisy.
Thinking Madius had already arrived, Ilias straightened up and looked toward the entrance.
So early? Karl hasn’t even arrived yet…
“…What…”
But as soon as he thought that, Ilias found himself doubting his own eyes.
“What on earth…”
“Even so…”
“How dreadful.”
Amidst the nobles’ murmurs, Karl’s shabby appearance was laid bare for all to see when he opened the doors himself and walked in without being introduced.
He wore a long, loose white nightgown that was little better than underwear, soft indoor slippers on his feet, and his unkempt hair was roughly pulled back and tied.
Having only recently recovered from illness, Karl still looked gaunt and haggard, standing there as if he had been cast alone into a different world.
“What on earth is he thinking?!”
So startled that he grabbed his neatly styled hair with both hands and ruined it.
He had told him to make it clear he had no interest in the throne, not to ignore every imperial protocol and act like a fool!
Among the nobles, who whispered in shock as if some wild beast had just burst in—
Karl who was standing alone looked around, and then his gaze met Ias’s.
Don’t come!
Ilias shook his head side to side, almost trembling.
But unfortunately, Karl mercilessly crushed his desperate wish, smiling brightly as he dragged his slippers along the floor and walked toward him.
He had saved his younger brother’s life, only for the idiot to lose his mind and come back to screw him over.
Ilias’s vision went dark.
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