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Chapter 4
The thick doors, gilded in gold and engraved with red imperial patterns, were so heavy that even two soldiers struggled to open them.
The elite guards stationed at the entrance tilted their heads at Ezra’s approach before exchanging quick glances.
“Who is she?”
A natural question.
“She is the fourth princess.”
“The fourth princess? We received no order to admit her. Turn back.”
Unlike before, Matari—now standing at the front—said nothing.
A foreboding feeling rose from the ground, tightening around Ezra’s ankles like chains. Her lips trembled uselessly.
The guards shook their heads coldly.
“It is the King’s order that only invited guests be admitted. What are you doing still standing there?”
One guard pointed his spear directly at Matari. They were already glancing toward the nobles waiting behind Ezra, concerned about appearances.
Matari, who had been guiding her just moments ago, suddenly bowed deeply and stepped away without hesitation. The other maids followed suit and dispersed.
Left alone, Ezra finally heard faint laughter behind her.
It was a joke.
A cruel, low-level trick.
Only then did she realize it.
Ezra stood frozen like a statue, lowering her gaze.
The weight of stares. The sharp sting of ridicule piercing her ears. She forced an awkward smile as she met Matari’s indifferent expression.
Her palms were damp with sweat. She wiped them against her clothes again and again before finally squeezing her eyes shut.
What had she been thinking, coming here?
For a fleeting moment of hope, she had stepped into a place she did not belong. She despised herself for it.
Her fists clenched tightly, nails digging into her palms.
“…Was I not invited?”
At her fragile voice, the guards hesitated before nodding again, spears pointed firmly forward.
Behind her, nobles waiting for entry began pointing fingers, whispering openly.
The humiliation spread.
Ezra stood there, trembling.
She should have turned back.
She knew she should.
But her feet would not move.
As if waiting for something.
And then—
The sealed doors, which were never meant to open for the uninvited, slowly parted.
A blinding white light spilled through the gap.
The guards froze, stunned, recognizing the figure who had opened it.
The man stepped out.
Silence fell instantly.
Even breathing seemed too loud.
His steady footsteps echoed across the hall until they stopped directly in front of Ezra.
Hippolotes lifted his gaze slightly and positioned himself between her and the gate, like a wall.
“There seems to be a misunderstanding. Is there any reason Princess Ezra would not be allowed inside?”
“It is the King’s order.”
The guard tightened his grip on his spear.
At that moment, the spear that had been aimed at Ezra tilted upward.
“Was this not a banquet held for me?”
“That is correct—but we were told explicitly to refuse anyone who was not invited.”
“The King’s order…”
Ezra understood immediately.
Even the foreign prince could not override a royal decree.
She did not want to cause trouble in a banquet meant for him.
More than anything, she did not want him to see her like this.
Just as she reached out hesitantly toward his sleeve—
“Then I will say I invited her.”
“…Pardon?”
“If uninvited guests are not allowed, then as the main guest of honor…”
Hippolotes smiled gently at the guards.
It was a smile, yet something about it felt slightly off—enough to send a chill down one’s spine.
“…I will be the one who invited her.”
His presence, despite his unimpressive appearance, pressed down on them with undeniable weight.
“Open the door.”
The guards, unable to resist his grip on the spear, exchanged uneasy glances.
Eventually, the doors opened.
A new world lay beyond.
Or so it felt.
“Come here.”
He extended his hand.
Ezra stared at it in a daze.
When she didn’t move, he leaned slightly closer.
“If you keep looking at me like that, people might misunderstand.”
There was a faint teasing tone in his voice.
Before she could respond, he took her hand.
Warmth spread through her fingers.
And just like that, she was pulled forward.
It felt as if something that had been trapping her life—front and back—had snapped.
A thread binding her existence had broken.
And for the first time, she stepped forward on her own.
She didn’t look at the hall.
She didn’t look at the gold, or the jewels, or the nobles watching them.
She only saw him.
His silver hair, his steady back, his confident stride.
She tightened her grip on his hand without realizing it.
As if afraid he might disappear.
At some point, he turned his head slightly to check on her.
Their eyes met.
His red gaze was like the sun.
Too bright to face directly.
Too close to approach without burning.
And yet—
She understood.
The reason she had not run.
The reason she had stood at the door, refusing to move.
She had been waiting.
Not for the banquet.
But for him.
Inside the hall, all eyes turned to her.
The forgotten fourth princess.
And the foreign crown prince who led her inside.
Whispers spread instantly.
The nobles watched with curiosity, the royals with open hostility.
The Queen’s gaze was especially sharp—like it could tear her apart.
And yet there was no seat for Ezra.
No place for her among the golden chairs of royalty.
Her position was made painfully clear.
“I didn’t expect it to be this bad.”
Hippolotes murmured, glancing at the royal family.
Ezra swayed slightly, overwhelmed.
Without thinking, he caught her and supported her by the waist.
A simple gesture.
But it changed everything.
The three princesses reacted differently.
Skene nearly stood up in anger, only to be restrained by a maid.
The others watched in silence, each calculating something different.
“I’m sorry…”
Ezra’s voice was small.
“For what?”
Hippolotes asked lightly.
“You must be in trouble because of me… you could have just ignored me…”
“I’m not in trouble at all.”
If anything, things were going exactly as expected.
Perhaps even better.
He glanced toward the entrance and subtly signaled Matari, who bowed and withdrew.
Meanwhile, King Hieros cleared his throat, clearly displeased.
Hippolotes escorted Ezra forward naturally.
As more guests entered, music filled the hall, and the atmosphere grew livelier.
Leaning slightly toward her, he whispered:
“First, I should thank His Majesty.”
“A-ah…”
Only then did Ezra realize she was still gripping his sleeve and quickly let go.
Her face flushed instantly.
A soft laugh brushed above her head.
“Wait here for a moment.”
Wait.
He was coming back?
Before she could process it, he walked across the hall toward the royal platform.
Ezra watched his back, hope rising unconsciously in her chest.
At the steps, he stopped and knelt slightly in formal respect.
“Thank you for your generous hospitality.”
The King nodded stiffly.
“I should be the one thanking you for honoring us.”
The atmosphere loosened slightly.
The banquet began.
But nothing about it was simple.
Behind smiles and laughter, every noble wore a mask.
Conversation flowed like honey, but beneath it, something sharp and predatory moved like a web.
Princesses, nobles, power, desire—all tangled together.
And then—
Glossa moved.
She approached Hippolotes with graceful steps.
“Crown Prince Hippolotes. I believe this is our first proper greeting.”
Her voice was elegant.
But her eyes were sharp as blades, briefly cutting toward Skene.
“I am Princess Glossa, the first princess.”
Hippolotes kissed the back of her hand politely.
Glossa withdrew slowly.
“What were you discussing with Skene?”
“She was speaking about the walls of Titen.”
“…I see.”
At the mention of “walls,” Glossa’s expression subtly stiffened.
Skene paled slightly, realizing her mistake.
Glossa forced a smile.
But behind it, something cold was already forming.
