Chapter 91

A few months ago, following a victory in the territorial war, an opera house was established in Viscount Notario’s fief. Thanks to the capital and magic of the imperial family, construction proceeded faster than expected, and the grand opening performance has already taken place.

 

The opera house, built with a three-story tiered structure, was the centerpiece of the imperial family’s influence and was far more magnificent than any theater in other territories. At this celebratory banquet, the nobles were in a state of ecstasy as the famous opera singer Marzia Dorsi gave her inaugural performance.

 

Nazlee fidgeted with her hands, peering intently from her box seat toward the imperial box on the opposite side.

 

‘They said all the members of the Imperial Family would attend today’s event….’

 

The imperial box was situated right in the center. Unlike the other boxes, it was spacious and adorned with exquisite, antique decorations.

 

‘Is he even there…?’

 

Nazlee scanned the imperial box carefully, but she couldn’t see a single strand of silver hair. She tried to soothe herself, rationalizing that he was simply too far away to see, but because it was a day she had looked forward to so much, anxiety continued to gnaw at a corner of her heart.

 

Right then, a heavy thought flashed through her mind.

 

The period when Lilithia Baimery was said to have left the capital coincided perfectly with the time when news of Prince Freyer had stopped coming.

 

‘…It can’t be.’

 

Prince Freyer must simply be busy with Ministry of Foreign Affairs business, which is why she hadn’t received word. It had to be that.

 

Aaah—!

 

The madonna’s nightingale-like voice resonated throughout the opera house. The sound of Nazlee’s legs trembling with anxiety and the rhythmic ticking of her biting her nails were buried beneath the music.

 

It was then.

 

“Nazlee.”

 

A wrinkled hand resting on her knee brought her anxiety to a halt. A worried voice reached her ears.

 

“……Father.”

 

“When the performance ends, let us go to where His Majesty is staying.”

 

Her father understood everything about her, even without her saying a word. It felt pathetic to even try to deny it.

 

“So, rest easy and focus on the performance for now.”

 

Thanks to the hand patting her knee a few times, Nazlee’s thumping, anxious heartbeat gradually slowed. She gave a small nod and looked back toward the madonna.

 

‘I just haven’t been able to find the Prince yet….’

 

She steadied herself by repeating those words over and over.

 

 

***

 

 

Viscount Notario, the owner of the opera house, stepped onto the stage. He gestured toward the Empress and raised his voice.

 

“The reason we were able to successfully conclude the first performance of this opera house is all thanks to the Moon of the Empire, Her Majesty Empress Celeste. Everyone, a round of applause please!”

 

Clap, clap, clap!

 

Everyone gazed at the Empress’s seat with eyes full of reverence. Amidst the thunderous applause that threatened to bring down the house, the Empress wore a radiant, all-encompassing smile, spreading her arms and raising her voice.

 

“Oh, what did I even do? This is all thanks to all of you who have contributed so much to the imperial family.”

 

The crowd cheered even louder at the Empress’s words. Marzia Dorsi, the madonna of the opera house, bowed deeply and responded to the Empress.

 

“Thank you for choosing me as your madonna.”

 

“I am even more delighted to have been able to invite a singer I like so much.”

 

Despite the imperial family’s significant contribution, she claimed the credit wasn’t hers; she was the very definition of an idol for women.

 

“She’s so magnificent….”

 

From all corners, people clasped their hands and looked at the Empress with sparkling eyes. Exclamations of admiration broke out everywhere at the nobility felt in her every gesture.

 

The Empress maintained her dignified smile as she turned and retreated into the darkened box. Sighs of regret echoed from here and there.

 

The corners of the Empress’s mouth, which seemed entirely indifferent to the words of others, were turned up so high they looked ready to tear. She whispered to herself: “It’s all because of me. Naturally, I deserve this kind of applause.”

 

A cold, ruthless voice cut through her revelry like a block of ice.

 

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

 

“Ivailo.”

 

It was Ivailo, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, one eyebrow furrowed in disapproval.

 

“…….”

 

Though he was the son she had given birth to, the Empress had not looked forward to meeting him since their last conversation.

 

“How could I not be happy?”

 

The Empress couldn’t suppress her mood, which was so buoyant she felt like she was floating.

 

There had been a territorial war between Viscount Notario and Count Conde, but that had nothing to do with her. She was simply fulfilling her role as Empress by awakening the power of the Imperial Family.

 

Everyone looked up to her; they envied and respected her as a member of the royalty. There was nothing more fulfilling or satisfying than this.

 

“I understand perfectly now.”

 

“…….”

 

“That for you, Mother, outward appearances are all that matter.”

 

His sarcastic tone and his tendency to pick fights and play the spoiler—even from the Empress’s position, Ivailo’s behavior could no longer be forgiven.

 

“Why is your mind so twisted?”

 

A hollow laugh, sounding more like a sigh, escaped from between Ivailo’s teeth.

 

“Ivailo! There is a limit to my patience.”

 

“Does someone who values the gaze of those lowly creatures in the opera house even know of my anxiety?”

 

His attitude was one of pure contempt. At Ivailo’s transgressions in word and deed, the Empress’s hands tightened until they trembled. Her fingernails dug into her skin, leaving red marks.

 

A surge of rage made her want to scream right then and there, to ask how he could say such things to his own mother.

 

‘But…….’

 

She felt ashamed that her lack of love from the Emperor was being filled by the recognition of others—ashamed that someone knew her inner heart.

 

And the fact that the first person to see through her was her own son made her feel as if she were being strangled, making it hard to catch her breath.

 

“Freyer.”

 

Her burning thoughts came to a halt at the unexpected name Ivailo mentioned. The Empress slowly raised her head to look at him.

 

“What about that brat…?”

 

“I am told he has left to handle diplomacy with the Oneren Kingdom.”

 

Within his icy smile, his venomous inner thoughts were revealed.

 

“If he establishes diplomatic relations, my position will be in danger.”

 

Ivailo’s eyes darkened as if they were on fire. The Empress found it difficult to react to his words—she couldn’t laugh, and she couldn’t cry.

 

“I will take advantage of Freyer’s absence to kill the Emperor and take the throne.”

 

The Empress turned pale at Ivailo’s continued statement.

 

“I can no longer trust the poison you use to kill the Emperor, Mother.”

 

The Empress gripped the armrests, barely maintaining consciousness. She had tried so hard to kill the Emperor, yet in the depths of her heart, she seemed to feel relieved that he was still breathing.

 

She should have told him to proceed if he had a good way to kill the Emperor. But the ‘correct’ response just circled in her head; she couldn’t bring herself to speak.

 

“I came to tell you this, Empress. I will not tolerate any further interference.”

 

Without waiting for her answer, Ivailo turned and left.

 

Once he was gone, her trembling legs lost their strength. The Empress collapsed into her chair. Both hands, covering her mouth, shook violently.

 

This was the moment she had longed for—the Emperor dead and her son Ivailo on the throne.

 

…But, but.

 

“……No.”

 

Just as her vision blurred with rising tears.

 

“Empress, you don’t look well.”

 

Her vision, which had been as foggy as mist, cleared instantly. It was Duke Idarand.

 

‘This is it. This way, I can put Ivailo on the throne without killing the Emperor.’

 

“Duke Idarand… could you help me up?”

 

The Empress hid her growing smile and let tears well up in her eyes. Without a word, the Duke reached out and helped the fallen Empress to her feet.

 

Even a man of his resolute character, who lived only for his daughter, could not simply stand by and watch a woman in tears.

 

‘Especially if that woman is the Empress.’

 

 

***

 

 

“Lady Idarand.”

 

“!”

 

At the low voice coming from above her, Nazlee, who had been hanging her head, snapped it up.

 

“I—I greet His Highness the Crown Prince.”

 

Nazlee had been too afraid to go inside. She was terrified that her fears might actually be true. She was overwhelmed with worry about what to do if Prince Freyer really wasn’t there.

 

‘If the Crown Prince is also here.’

 

A smile began to form on Nazlee’s face, but her hopes were shattered by Ivailo’s words.

 

“You’ve come to the wrong place.”

 

“……Pardon?”

 

“That brat.”

 

Who was he talking about? Nazlee’s eyes widened. At Ivailo’s subsequent cold words, her heart immediately plummeted to the floor.

 

“I told you that second—no, that damned Freyer isn’t here.”

 

“C-could it be that he followed Lilithia Baimery…?”

 

“You’re well-informed.”

 

“…Why, why would Prince Freyer!”

 

“You.”

 

Nazlee’s expression darkened rapidly at Ivailo’s menacing aura. Ivailo leaned his face close to hers and frowned.

 

“If you ever mention that brat’s name in front of me again, I might just have your head, Nazlee Idarand.”

 

“…….”

 

Nazlee’s pupils shook uncontrollably. A sneer escaped Ivailo’s lips.

 

“As I thought, fear is better than kindness.”

 

That terrified look in her eyes made him feel vividly alive—the look of a herbivore facing a predator. It made his heart race.

 

Gentlemanly behavior. The conduct of a Crown Prince to be admired—none of that suited him.

 

Radiating the dignity of royalty and showing one’s superiority—that was the right to be enjoyed as a member of the Imperial Family.

 

He was about to pass by the shivering Nazlee when.

 

Grab—

 

He felt a hand catch his clothing. He looked down to see a pale hand, marked with red scratches, gripping the edge of his jacket.

 

Tremble—

 

The edge of his jacket vibrated along with the violent shaking of the hand.

 

“What I fear is the person I love looking at someone else instead of me.”

 

Tear-filled eyes looked up at him as she sobbed.

 

“Give… give me the Second Prince. If you promise me that, I will help Your Highness become the Emperor.”

 

Give her the Second Prince.

 

At the absurd suggestion, a sharp breath escaped Ivailo’s teeth. However, as if pouring out her condensed emotions, Nazlee’s tears fell as she once again mentioned an preposterous overstepping of her bounds.

 

“If you become the Emperor… you can marry me to the Second Prince, right…?”

 

Even though her lower jaw was trembling from her crying, Nazlee bit her lip hard and spoke.

 

“I can do it. If I borrow the power of my family… I can put you on the throne….”

 

Nazlee’s overstepping words finally made Ivailo’s temper snap.

 

A sharp edge appeared in Ivailo’s eyes. With a ferocious gaze that seemed ready to strike her head off then and there, he grabbed Nazlee Idarand by the shoulders.

 

“How dare you utter such words so easily. Don’t overstep your bounds.”

 

He had endured and labored so much until now to sit on that throne. What do you know that allows you to say such things so easily? Frowning, Ivailo violently threw off Nazlee’s grip on his clothes.

 

“Count yourself lucky that I don’t strike you down here.”

 

Nazlee, thrown against the wall, stared blankly at the floor and gritted her teeth.

 

“…I—I need a way. A way to make Prince Freyer come back.”

 

The fact that she didn’t know what was happening between them, away from her sight, made her even more anxious. She could no longer hold onto her sanity.