MEBD 20

Chapter 20

Back to the Capital (1)

After returning from the family cemetery, the members of the Marquis’ household took a short rest before immediately preparing to return to the capital.

Staying long at the estate would only bring back painful memories, so they decided to rest once they were back at their mansion in the capital instead.

“We can’t rest too long anyway. The Spring Ball is coming soon.”

The Spring Ball was an event that doubled as the coming-of-age ceremony for noble youths turning nineteen.

As the first and most important celebration of the season, and one of the Empire’s grandest events, nobles began preparing for it as early as a year in advance.

If not for Bledin’s death, the twins too would have been busy preparing for the ball by now.

Ignoring Lowell’s frowning face—he had finally changed out of mourning clothes—Berenice lifted the teacup before her.

She had come out to the garden despite the chilly weather, not wanting to stay in the bustling estate where everyone was frantically preparing for the return to the capital.
But she hadn’t expected to end up sharing this rare quiet time with Lowell, who was sighing over and over as though just thinking of the ball gave him a headache.

“Still, we already have some things prepared, so we’ll manage somehow.”

“That ‘somehow’ is exactly the problem. I’ve heard there are plenty of idiots ready to mock our family now that our brother’s dead. If we don’t look perfect, they’ll tear us apart.”

Having already begun receiving regular reports from his informants in the capital, Lowell—who would soon officially debut in society as the heir of House Wiltière—had built his own network entirely through his own means, not his father’s authority.

“Then I’ll just tear them apart first. Don’t worry so much.”

“…”

“What’s with that dumb face?”

“I just… didn’t expect you to say something so aggressive.”

Indeed, the Berenice of before—before she returned to the past—would never have said such a thing.

I need to be careful, she thought.

For the sake of her family’s standing, she still needed to uphold the dignity expected of a noble lady.

Reflecting briefly on her words, Berenice set down her cup and met Lowell’s violet eyes—so much like their father’s.

“Shall we get to the real reason you came here?”

“Huh?”

“You didn’t come all the way here just to talk about the ball, did you?”

“The ball isn’t just some trivial thing…”

“Main topic.”

With Berenice’s firm tone, Lowell grumbled quietly, glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, and finally spoke carefully.

“What do you think of Prince Kaiden?”

“…What kind of question is that supposed to be?”

Hearing that name from her twin’s mouth—barely an hour after parting from Kaiden himself, who had smiled meaningfully and said “see you again”—gave her a very bad feeling.

What on earth is he trying to say?

As Berenice narrowed her eyes in silent demand for an explanation, Lowell shrugged and continued.

“You can’t keep putting off a decision forever. I figured I might as well hear your thoughts, even if they won’t help much.”

Can I hit him? Just once?

With all the servants dismissed, no one would see… just one quick slap, and then she could continue the conversation—

“Hey, don’t give me that look.”

“I have a request…”

“Anything except ‘let me hit you once.’”

“Then twice.”

“I’m being serious right now.”

“So am I.”

Why was it that every serious conversation with her twin failed to last even a minute?

Whenever she talked to Lowell, she felt like she reverted to her childish, pre-rebirth self.

Watching him lift his teacup with that irritatingly smug expression, Berenice gritted her teeth and sighed.

It might have seemed out of nowhere, but she already knew why he was asking about Kaiden.

Though it wasn’t visible yet, hidden beneath Bledin’s funeral, the state of House Wiltière was not good.

If she had to sum it up in one phrase, the marquisate was “a scale tipped off balance.”

For years, their family had maintained political neutrality.

Owning one of the largest trading companies, they skillfully navigated between rival factions to secure profits.

Some sneered behind their backs—saying the family crest should be a bat, or calling them greedy money-grubbers—but no one dared say such things in front of the Empire’s sole marquis and merchant lord.

That balance was shattered because of Bledin.

The moment the eldest son swore allegiance to the Crown Prince, Wiltière’s neutrality vanished.

Even though they never officially declared support for the prince, everyone assumed they had chosen his camp.

That hadn’t been a problem while the Crown Prince lived—after all, he was the next Emperor, and aligning with him early was a safe move.

The problem was that the Emperor was still alive.

Though he loved his firstborn, he had still murdered his own brothers to seize the throne. To openly support his heir in front of him was to risk death.

So the marquis had chosen silence instead of open support—believing that as long as Bledin lived, their connection to the prince would remain secure.

But then the Crown Prince died.

And Bledin followed, branded with disgrace.

Once the scales had tipped, returning them to balance was impossible.

So that’s why Father’s decided to act.

Lowell wasn’t asking her opinion just out of idle curiosity—Berenice knew her twin too well for that.

If the scales could no longer be righted, the family had to choose a side quickly—to take part in the race for the next throne.

“Kaiden Manus… Not a bad choice,” Berenice murmured softly.

The second prince, so like the Emperor that even his father despised him.

The tyrant who had once killed his brothers and taken the throne in blood surely feared that his son might one day do the same.

But now, the Emperor has only two options left—Prince Kaiden or Prince Ashad.

Kaiden, the ruthless second prince, and Ashad, the third, still sheltered under the Empress’s skirts.

If she was thinking of the future, then supporting Kaiden was the only way for House Wiltière to survive.

But that wasn’t a reason she could speak aloud.

Right now, other than the Empress’s influence, there’s nothing outwardly wrong with the third prince.

At worst, he was too gentle—but compared to Kaiden, that was hardly a flaw.

“You’ve been quiet for a while,” Lowell interrupted. “Did Father decide already?”

“No. If he had, would he need your opinion? He’d just tell you to follow.”

“What about you?”

“Me? Well… between a lunatic mama’s boy and a sane tyrant, I’d give my vote to the tyrant.”

Was there ever such a thing as a sane tyrant in history?

The thought flickered briefly in her mind, but Berenice answered his earlier question slowly.

“If it were up to me, I’d choose Prince Kaiden.”

That had been her thought the first moment she saw him.

If she could steer the flow of events to her advantage, it would greatly aid what she intended to do.

And for her, the advantageous flow meant Kaiden becoming crown prince.

The problem was—

In my previous life, that man never wanted the throne.

All he’d cared about was his brother’s death.

That much surely hadn’t changed.

The only reason he’d come to attend Bledin’s funeral in person was likely connected to that same obsession.

After much thought, that was the conclusion she reached.

“Prince Kaiden, huh…” Lowell muttered.

“But it won’t be easy to push him into the succession struggle.”

“Why not?”

“You’re not seriously asking that, are you?”

At her dry reply, Lowell turned his gaze aside as if dodging the question.

Berenice sighed and continued.

“Because he’s here.”

If Kaiden truly wanted the throne, he’d be in the capital—building his faction, not attending funerals.

Meanwhile, the Empress was already moving to secure her son’s power.

“You’ve gotten sharper, huh?”

“Is that your way of picking a fight?”

“Not a fight—just an observation. Nia, ever since you fainted at the funeral, you’ve completely changed.”

“…”

“What are you hiding?”

At his quiet question, Berenice’s fingers tightened around her cold teacup.

She knew how difficult it was to hide anything from her twin.

Eventually, he’d find out—but not now.

She closed her eyes briefly, schooling her expression, then smiled playfully, tugging up one corner of her lips like the old Berenice would have.

Recognizing that look as her prelude to teasing, Lowell flinched instinctively.

“What’s wrong? Worried about your lovely little sister?”

“Love—ly?”

“Or did you just now realize how mature I’ve become?”

“Seems the word ‘mature’ means something different among noble ladies these days.”

Lowell was smart, but when it came to his twin’s provocations, he still hadn’t learned how to avoid taking the bait.

(Then again, even the time-traveled Berenice hadn’t known that trick yet.)

Thanks to her teasing, he completely forgot his question, grinding his teeth and growling instead.

Too easy, she thought.

Watching his irritated face, Berenice felt oddly calm. She called over Nadia to replace her cold tea.

It was an ordinary, peaceful moment between the twins—just like old times.