12.

“I’m sorry, my lord! Kid, just get on my horse. Hurry!”

“It’s fine. How much space could someone that small possibly take? Let’s just take him out quickly.”

What was even stranger was that he had accepted the request without realizing it, even though he could have simply refused.

“Wow! It’s my first time riding a horse!”

The moment the child sat on the horse with Kaian, he shouted in excitement.

“Mister pwince! This is the first time I’ve seen someone with the same hair color as Aeir!”

Perhaps because of that, the child chattered nonstop the entire way out of the forest.

“You know, today we had a word quiz contest at kindergarten, and Aeir got first place!”

“Oh! Mushrooms! Mister pwince, have you ever eaten mushroom pancakes? You mix them with eggies and meat—my mommy makes them weally well! What was it called… Kai food? K-food? Anyway it’s super yummy! My mommy is the best!”

Truly, without a moment of rest.

Cedric occasionally watched Kaian’s reaction, but for some reason the child did not annoy him.

Had he come to like children because he was long past the age of producing an heir? Even he found it strange, yet after today’s banquet, it did not seem to be the case.

‘He shouldn’t get lost again.’

Kaian found an intrigued smile unconsciously forming on his lips.

At that moment, the banquet hall began to grow noisy. Turning toward the entrance where the disturbance had started, he saw a middle-aged man dressed in black formal attire.

Among the brilliantly dressed guests, he alone wore pitch black. Looking only at him, one might mistake the place for a funeral.

On such an auspicious day, there was only one person in the Empire arrogant enough to attend in mourning clothes and openly slight the Imperial Family.

The warmth that had rarely appeared on Kaian’s face moments ago vanished instantly, replaced by coldness.

The audacious man spotted Kaian and walked straight toward him.

One step. Then another.

With each step he took toward the Emperor, the nobles filling the hall parted to either side on their own, clearing a path.

“Eternal glory to Lecanto. I greet the sun of the Empire, His Majesty the Emperor.”

At last, the man reached the Emperor and bowed.

“Duke Astria.”

“This subject arrived a little late, Your Majesty.”

The Duke of Astria continued, wearing a relaxed smile.

‘Late to a banquet hosted by the Imperial Family and not even a word of apology—just as cunning and arrogant as the head of Astria is said to be.’

Kaian swallowed a hollow laugh at the duke’s ever-unchanging demeanor.

Brazen arrogance. His words alone revealed his attitude toward the Imperial Family.

The surrounding nobles watched them from the corners of their eyes, barely daring to breathe, trying their utmost to hide their attention. Yet from the banquet hall’s unnatural silence alone, Kaian could easily sense their furtive gazes.

Until the duke’s arrival, soft music had flowed beneath the murmur of noble conversations and the clatter of tableware. Now, only the fragile continuation of the performance filled the vast hall.

Was it his imagination that the violin carried too many unintended vibratos? The performer’s hand hovered precariously between bow and string.

“Late? Rather, I’m surprised you came earlier than expected. I thought you wouldn’t attend today.”

It was Kaian’s languid voice that cut through the tense air.

Even amid the unrest, he alone exuded the elegant yet vivid aura of a relaxed predator.

“Is it not the Founding Festival banquet held for the first time in four years? As a subject, I must naturally attend.”

“Judging by your complexion, it seems you have suffered greatly. Even if you had spent the day recuperating at home, the benevolent Founding God Soleon would not have been angered.”

“My, to have caused Your Majesty concern—this subject has committed disloyalty. I was praying that the god Soleon would watch over the daughter I sent ahead of me first—.”

Bang!

The moment the duke mentioned Imperial Consort Estelle, the violin leading the performance snapped with a sharp sound.

The concertmaster had barely managed to hold the piece together amid the chaotic atmosphere. Having lost its lead, the music could no longer find direction and came to a halt. The banquet hall, already quiet, froze over.

No one present was unaware that mentioning Imperial Consort Estelle before the Emperor of the Lecanto Empire was forbidden.

At least, no one inside this hall.

“What parent’s heart could remain whole after sending their child ahead of them?”

The Duke of Astria could not possibly be ignorant of that either. Yet the fact that he mentioned her deliberately made it an unmistakable challenge to the Emperor.

A murderous tension lingered—one that would not have made bloodshed surprising at any moment.

The surrounding nobles watched nervously, clutching their pounding hearts, wondering whether they would be caught in the clash of dragons.

“Regrettable.”

Once again, it was the Emperor who broke the silence first.

‘He sympathizes with the duke’s grief… His Majesty is stepping back. Thank goodness.’

Just as the nobles were about to breathe in relief—

“It would have been better if, just as you understand the heart of a parent who lost a child, you had spared even a little thought for the heart of a child who lost a parent.”

It was an unmistakable reference to the death of the late Imperial Consort Serena. The nobles’ faces turned even paler than before.

The Duchy of Astria had never openly led the execution of Serena. Yet most nobles were quietly convinced of the duke’s involvement. They simply lacked the courage to voice suspicion toward the house that held influence second only to the Imperial Family in the Lecanto Empire.

The Emperor still wore a smile, but the swordmaster’s aura swirling around him looked ready to sever the duke’s neck at any moment.

Afraid of being caught in the aftermath, several nobles barely managed to remain standing on their trembling legs.

“Human life is truly strange. Some days it clings as stubbornly as sinew, yet on others it snaps more easily than a spider’s thread.”

Only the Duke of Astria continued speaking with a faint smile, unmoved by the Emperor’s pressure.

“That is why one must live today more faithfully. No one knows when they may cross the River Stias.”

The River Stias was the mythical river of death said to be crossed by the departed.

The phrase “anyone” implied that death could come even to the Emperor at any time. Such audacity—had it been spoken by an ordinary noble, it would have been more than enough to charge them with treason.

“Though I do not know when, on the day you cross the River Stias, I shall personally see you off with all sincerity.”

Instead of anger, the Emperor replied with a chilling smile.

He spoke without hesitation, plainly declaring he would one day kill the duke himself.

Though no swords were drawn, the Emperor and the duke mercilessly slashed at each other with blades honed upon their tongues.

The nobles felt as though they were performing a precarious balancing act on a thin rope stretched between two towering cliffs.

“For tonight, at least, it does not seem to be the day. Enjoy the banquet—it has been a long time, has it not?”

“I am honored.”

With that, the war of the night came to a temporary end.

However, the nobles who filled the hall began making excuses about their children and hurried home one by one before ten o’clock. As a result, the banquet concluded earlier than ever before.

Kaian left the banquet hall with an expressionless face.

“I will walk alone.”

Dismissing all his guards, he headed into the rear garden. The cold February night air brushed past his cheeks—a wind that cooled the heat tightening around his entire body.

‘Estelle.’

Just the name alone made his chest constrict.

‘Even recalling the Imperial Consort twists my insides like this, yet how can the duke speak of her so calmly?’

What kind of ruthless father could use even his daughter’s death as a means to provoke the Emperor? A nauseating incomprehension rose within him.

Ah… perhaps—

‘Because you too were Astria, Estelle… that is why you could betray me and Mother, who cherished you so dearly.’

Without even blinking.

She had been a woman who deceived him so thoroughly. That was why he could not understand it all the more.

Why, on this day—the anniversary of that enemy—did his chest feel tight and aching all day long? Why was he still bound by her ghost? Even her own father, the duke, spoke of her death without hesitation, so why—

‘In the end, that cunning Astria bewitched me to the very last moment.’

The night sky he absentmindedly looked up at was thick with clouds.

Even the star “Estelle,” the brightest in the night sky throughout all seasons, was hidden behind them tonight.

The Emperor ultimately could not fall asleep.