—————————————————————–
Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Silverriver
—————————————————————–
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
This wasn’t in the original story. This kind of imperial family drama had never appeared in the novel.
Perhaps I simply didn’t remember it, but I was fairly certain.
The servants inside the mansion looked back and forth between me and the princess, surprised. It was understandable. The princess, who was supposed to be attending the ball, had arrived unconscious.
“What in the world…?”
“Quiet. Find somewhere to lay Her Highness down.”
An elderly butler, who seemed to be in charge, approached and questioned me. I answered him while carefully supporting the princess. She was groaning softly, about to wake up.
The butler looked puzzled but nodded.
“This way, please.”
He led me to what looked like a guest reception room, guiding me to a sofa in the center. I gently laid the princess down.
She was breathing softly, still unconscious.
“Thank you. We’ll make our own way to the ballroom, so please don’t announce our arrival yet.”
“But…”
“I give you my word as a Philasia that there will be no trouble.”
At the mention of my family name, the butler bowed deeply and left the room.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Regina slowly woke up. She had been arguing with Idrian, and then… everything went dark.
‘Where…?’
The guest reception room. Someone had moved her to the sofa. She didn’t know what had happened at the ball, or who had brought her here.
“You’re finally awake.”
A deep, melodious voice echoed through the room. She knew who it belonged to.
“Deron. Why am I here?”
Deron Philasia glanced at her, then looked away, fiddling with his cane.
“His Highness asked me to tell you he’s sorry.”
“That damned bastard… did he make me faint?”
Deron didn’t answer, but Regina was already half-convinced.
“He used Mother’s necklace on me…!”
Her deceased mother’s necklace was an artifact, enchanted with a short-term sleep spell. A gift the Empress had commissioned for the Crown Prince, who had trouble sleeping.
She found it repulsive that he even possessed it, let alone used it on her.
Regina gritted her teeth, her jewel eyes flashing with a reddish hue. Deron, who had been watching her intently, stood up.
“Your Highness, this isn’t the time for such anger.”
“Do you even know why I’m angry?”
“I don’t. And I have no interest in the Imperial Family’s domestic affairs.”
“And yet you tell me not to be angry?”
“Yes.”
Regina glared at Deron. Her eyes were filled with fury, but also… a hint of curiosity.
“Why?”
“Those who cannot control their emotions, who allow themselves to be ruled by them, always become tyrants. Do you aspire to be a tyrant, Your Highness? Do you wish to paint the Empire’s sky black with fire and stain the earth red with blood?”
Regina hesitated at Deron’s words, then replied,
“Of course not.”
“The tyrants of old, described in ancient texts, felt the same. They didn’t want to be tyrants. I can’t say for certain, but I believe at least some of them were driven to their actions by unchecked emotions and unwise counsel.”
Deron’s gaze pierced Regina. Her anger cooled under his steady stare as he spoke of tyrants.
“Just like Your Highness, right now.”
As Deron finished speaking, Regina asked,
“Are you comparing me to those tyrants?”
“It was merely an example. I didn’t think Your Highness would ever act like that.”
“Then…?”
“But if you continue like this… I’ll have to reconsider my opinion.”
Deron’s black eyes seemed to see right through her. His expression remained unchanged, yet Regina felt a pang of… disappointment from him.
“I won’t! I will not become like those tyrants.”
“There are no guarantees. No one can predict the future, Your Highness.”
Regina studied Deron’s demeanor, unsure why she even cared.
Deron continued,
“Emotions are not uncontrollable dragons. They are tools, like hammers. If Your Highness recognizes this and learns to control your emotions…”
“I can become a wise ruler?”
Deron stopped, as if caught off guard by her question. He glanced at her, then muttered,
“You must be feeling overwhelmed. I’ll go ahead to the ballroom.”
“….”
Deron bowed his head and turned to leave. Or rather, he tried to.
“Wait.”
Deron stopped and turned back. Regina was staring at him, the jewels in her eyes sparkling.
“Where do you think you’re going, leaving your partner behind?”
She stood up, her footsteps echoing through the room.
“No one would blame you for resting.”
“Do you really think so, after lecturing me like that? Your eyes are filled with disappointment.”
Deron’s expression remained impassive, his aura as chilling as ever. But Regina didn’t flinch. She even took a step closer.
“Let’s go.”
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
“It seems the festival has taken a toll on everyone’s… finances.”
“Especially after Count Caius bought up all the specialty items.”
“Speaking of which, have you heard the news?”
“What news?”
Viscount Bloor approached them, a serious expression on his face.
“The count has requested reinforcements from the Imperial Family. The proud Lord of Winter Castle, no less.”
“The Lord of Winter Castle requested reinforcements?”
“Isn’t this a serious matter? For him to swallow his pride and ask for help… it must be dire.”
“Nonsense.”
Count Urara waved his hand dismissively.
“Winter Castle has stood as the Empire’s northern bulwark since time immemorial.”
“I-Indeed.”
“And you think it’s suddenly going to fall? Preposterous.”
The count scratched his head, his light brown hair falling around his shoulders.
“Then what about the Count’s request for reinforcements…?”
“He must be getting greedy. He’s still young and full of vigor, after all.”
“Ah…!”
“The Imperial Family hasn’t placed any restrictions on his army, so he’s likely trying to expand his influence.”
Count Urara’s beige eyes glinted as he surveyed the ballroom. Influential nobles, or those soon to be, had gathered here.
Though the truly powerful, those from the Dukedoms, hadn’t bothered to attend.
“Her Highness is late.”
“Didn’t she say she was coming with a partner?”
“I wonder which noble family the chosen one belongs to.”
The Empire’s second princess. Augustus Leonhart Regina. Possessing the jewel eyes, the symbol of the Imperial Family, just like the Emperor and the Crown Prince.
A potential heir to the throne.
Even if the Crown Prince had suddenly reformed and been actively participating in academy life for the past two years, he couldn’t compare to the princess, who had been cultivating her image for far longer.
Most here believed she would become a wise and just ruler.
“By the way, Viscount, I recently acquired a rather… interesting slave from another race…”
The baron’s words made the viscount’s face light up as he launched into a discussion about slaves. Vulgar and inappropriate topics, considering their status.
“…!”
The atmosphere in the ballroom shifted, becoming more… suggestive. The orchestra, sensing the change, adjusted their melody.
As gazes met and hands brushed…
-Creak
The ballroom doors opened, and all eyes turned towards the entrance. Silhouettes appeared.
“Announcing the arrival of Her Highness, the Empire’s second princess, Augustus Leonhart Regina!”
Lavender hair shimmered, her jewel eyes sparkling brightly. An aura of royalty, captivating and commanding.
And beside her, her chosen partner. A tall, imposing figure, his eyes sharp and alert, defying the rumors of his illness.
“Hmm.”
His gaze swept over the room, as arrogant as his father’s.
“Announcing the arrival of the eldest son of the Philasia Dukedom, Deron Philasia!”
At the attendant’s announcement, Deron entered the ballroom, his presence instantly dominating the room.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
“So this is it.”
A man stepped out of a carriage, his obsidian eyes scrutinizing the mansion. Light spilled from its windows. Luxurious. Even at night, it glowed with such brilliance. He wondered how much it had cost.
The man frowned.
“I wouldn’t be here if not for Her Highness.”
He started walking towards the mansion. The carriage that had brought him clattered away, leaving him alone at the entrance. Yet, his presence filled the space, extending even beyond the mansion walls.
The man, Cartrell Philasia, muttered, his eyes glinting,
“I need to see what he’s been up to.”
A ring, his most prized possession, adorned the fourth finger of his right hand. Cartrell Philasia entered the mansion.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
