Chapter 20

Chapter 20

“Slow down a little…”

“As you know, the Duke understands you well. Letting him observe you directly would be dangerous. Even if you acted, there’s too great a chance he’d see through it.”

“…”

“You don’t deny it.”

“Because it’s true.”

Dion knew her well. That was how he had deceived and betrayed her. Sian recalled those unpleasant memories with a bitter smile.

“That’s why we need the Emperor as intermediary. Someone closely connected to the Duke, who also knows your face as the kingdom’s Princess, but whose lofty station prevents him from showing much personal interest in you. Having the Emperor bear witness to your presence is the most efficient choice. Even if the Duke refuses to believe, he cannot dismiss the ripple effect of the Emperor’s report spreading through the imperial court and nobility.”

It certainly sounded reasonable.

“But the Emperor’s status is far higher than mine. If I show myself and he summons me, I couldn’t avoid it the way I could with the Duke.”

“That is what I’m here to guard against.”

Their brisk pace suddenly slowed. Before them rose an arched doorway decorated with climbing vines. They halted side by side.

Before the doors opened, Actarachion straightened. He slipped his arm to her waist in a graceful motion, lifting his other arm so that Sian’s hand rested naturally upon it. Perfect courtly manners. Sian looked up at him in surprise.

He faced forward, replying calmly.

“Don’t forget that before I was High Priest, I was Margrave Jerdin.”

He meant, of course he knew banquet etiquette. Sian nodded slightly in acknowledgment. She always forgot that he was a nobleman, perfectly capable of acting the part of a frontier margrave.

As she studied him anew with faint wonder, the doors swung open.

A heavy warmth rushed out. Sian turned her head forward. At the center of a hall decorated like a tropical garden stood a white fountain spilling water.

“Welcome, Margrave Jerdin.”

The greeting, spoken in the Empire’s tongue with La Kingdom’s distinctive lilt, came from within. Two waiting servants hurried toward them.

“And the lady beside you…?”

“She’s no one.”

He cut off the servant’s question and guided Sian deeper into the hall. Even moving quietly, they quickly drew the eyes of the assembled nobles.

* * *

The Emperor was on the second floor balcony.

Actarachion deliberately chose a seat at the balcony directly opposite.

The Emperor’s gaze flicked now and then toward Sian Heartperion. He masked it with a genial face, conversing smoothly with royalty, but he couldn’t hide his gaze.

He had recognized the Duke’s fiancée at a glance.

Sian, however, paid him little mind. Intoxicated by the atmosphere of the foreign banquet, she leaned against the railing and observed the guests moving through the hall.

All as he intended. The Emperor had seen her. A Princess standing in plain clothes, staring only at the ballroom. Anyone would assume she bore some unusual story. When the Emperor summoned his trusted aide to whisper, it proved the plan had worked.

Unable to resist, Actarachion let slip a short laugh.

To someone who knew the truth, it couldn’t have been more absurd. From behind, the Princess was like a child clinging to a ship’s rail, marveling at the sea. In fact, she was no different. A grave story? As if.

Actarachion watched the Emperor and Princess with interest, then shifted to a recline, almost lying down, crossing his legs, and lifting a champagne glass from the table. The Emperor’s performance of sipping wine was admirable, but couldn’t escape the level of comedy in its humor.

The Princess craned her neck over the railing, then turned back.

“Can I go down there?”

So the genre was a fairy tale reading, was it? Asking permission just like a child.

“Don’t stray too far, it could be dangerous. And don’t follow anyone who offers you food.”

“Understood, mother.”

Not father, but mother? He snorted softly. But she took it as permission and headed down the stairs attached to the balcony.

Truly a child. He drained his glass, listening to her light footsteps recede. Only then did the men of the hall catch his attention, and the bubbles scratched unpleasantly at his throat.

Is it the champagne making me irritable? He glanced at the bluish drink. It wasn’t cheap.

His sharpened gaze drifted down again.

The Princess, upon descending, immediately picked up a drink. The heat of irritation flared within him. Straight to alcohol. So unworthy of the temple.

With a sip of champagne and a bright smile, she mingled naturally with the nobles. Her beauty disarmed suspicion, and she seemed to know it. She extended her hand first, all smiles.

Every gesture of hers grated on him. Soon it turned to dislike.

Her plain attire that made her stand out even more. The vermin were drawn to her exterior. He hated it to the point of disgust. He chewed the inside of this cheek.

There she was, smiling easily at their approach. What’s so good that she needs to smile like that?

He set down his champagne glass.

Clang!

Glass shattered, scattering shards and pale blue liquid across the floor.

The hall was busy and noisy enough that most did not notice, but the Emperor did. Those yellow eyes turned toward him. Actarachion did not return the glance.

His attention was fixed below.

La’s fourth prince extended a hand to her, smirking. Actarachion let his arm dangle, idly nudging shards of glass with his fingertips.

Fortunately, the Princess didn’t accept the foolish offer. But the conversation continued. It was nothing special. When the prince compared her beauty to the stars, it almost made her vomit.

Does he think such drivel will work?

And she laughed as if amused, even while denying it. Don’t laugh. That only encourages him.

Another foreign noble approached, drawn by curiosity, sparking a subtle rivalry with the prince. In the midst of it, Sian Heartperion even pulled in another foreign Princess to join their conversation. She was known for her indifference to gender in her socializing.

Is this why she enjoys banquets? To mingle with such rabble? If that’s what it is, then never…

He pressed a hand to his forehead. Remember why you brought her. To show her to the Emperor, to restrict the Duke’s interference.

The Emperor was already sending a trusted aide this way. Meanwhile, the foreign Princess draped an arm across Sian’s shoulder. 

The hall froze. Time, space, the Emperor,  and everything else became irrelevant. It was annoying.

He rose to his feet. The Emperor stiffened mid-motion, hand half raised, as Actarachion descended the stairs.

The fountain’s spray, mouths opened mid-laugh, wine mid-pour were all stilled. Only Sian Heartperion remained, bewildered.

Actarachion strode toward her. She shrugged off the foreign Princess’s arm and turned, spotting him.

“Again?”

Again? Did she think this was a new ordeal?

He plucked a new champagne glass from a table and tapped the toe of his shoe against her plain loafer. Sian, trapped in this timeless space, only tilted her head, oblivious to his game.

“All that talk about showing me to the Emperor, was it a lie?”

No. That had been the plan. This was only impulse. But if he explained, she’d demand why he abandoned the plan. So he drank instead. Truthfully, even he wasn’t sure why.

“Tell me. Where did it start?”

Was she asking when the dream began?

But this wasn’t a dream, it was reality. None of it so far had been a dream…

With champagne in his mouth, he laughed.

If he told her, could she accept it? He swallowed, savoring the taste of champagne spreading through his tastebuds. His gaze lingered on her crimson eyes.

Beautiful. With eyes like these, it’s no wonder the flies swarm.

He leaned toward her with a courteous smile.

“Cheer me up a little.”

“And when did your mood sour?”

Her tone was brusque, annoyed at having her long awaited banquet disrupted.

So all that earlier pleased you? Is that why you wear that face, like you just had a toy snatched away from you?

My mood is seriously plummeting.

He furrowed his brow deliberately, bit his lip, and smiled as if trying to convince himself. I feel dirty. His smile proclaimed it.

Tonight, he would be merciless.

* * *

She should have known better when he offered to bring her to the banquet.

The Emperor, the Duke and the plausible explanations had all been nothing but stepping stones for another trial.

Though it wasn’t true, Sian had no way of knowing.

She walked among the guests, transformed into murderous stone statues, her hands covering her mouth. Their condition: if she made a sound or touched them, they would bare their fangs like trained hounds and tear her apart.

A vicious hobby.

Sweat trickled down her back with every step.

If she could remain silent and untouched, and find and capture Actarachion somewhere in the hall, she would succeed.

Her heavy dress rustled around her calves, tangling her stride and made her wonder where her legs were. 

“Why are they wearing such large things?” She glanced uneasily at a few other lavishly dressed figures, their stiff smiles grotesque, and quickly lowered her gaze.

At last, she passed beneath a woman’s raised arm and reached the fountain.

She climbed onto it, ankles sinking into shallow water.

The hall was crowded with plants, ornaments, guests and servants from various nations. Where was he? Her eyes darted from the first floor to the balconies above.

Ah…

She almost sighed aloud. Instead, she bit her lip hard, eyes watering.

There he was, on the highest balcony, lounging with one leg draped across the Emperor’s lap, leaning against the sofa’s armrest. Surrounded by the Emperor’s entourage. He smiled at her with a glint in his eye.

Bastard.

The balcony entrance was guarded by five soldiers in a tight line. The path to it was worse still, packed with petitioners awaiting audience with the Emperor. Many bore gifts, hands outstretched, bodies pressed together with no space to slip through.

You bastard. You absolute bastard.