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Chapter 07
The nanny used to say that people are not meant to be fixed and reused.
That belief—likely born from her complaints about her own husband—had been firmly imprinted on one corner of Onyx’s mind since childhood.
Trying to change someone was a waste of time, and he never believed people truly changed anyway.
They only pretended to.
Kane, who had stood up his fiancée and rolled around with opera actresses, had been caught red-handed—yet he was already hopping from actress to ballerina again, dodging the eyes of his father, Baron Wright. And what about Griff, the third son of the Hopper family? He had nearly reached the brink of divorce with Lady Hopper because of his reckless tongue. They reconciled for the sake of the children, but whenever he drank, the verbal abuse returned. In the end, they divorced anyway.
Onyx sometimes thought he could write down enough names to circle the Imperial Palace twice—proof that people never changed.
And now they were telling him to “fix” the woman who would become Empress?
Shaking his head to clear away the image of the mad young lady that kept surfacing in his thoughts, Onyx flipped through the stack of documents.
“You’re in contact with a nation that has adequate reserves of magic stones for import, I hear.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Onyx’s hand slowed at the Emperor’s question.
“As far as I know, the stability of the magic stones has not yet been verified.”
“We have completed secondary verification. Once the third round is finished, we will submit the proposal to the assembly.”
“And you are certain, as you claim, that it will indeed improve productivity?”
Lifting his eyes from the documents, Onyx looked steadily at his father, the Emperor.
So he wanted precise figures.
The Emperor’s questions, unable to simply acknowledge his son’s achievements, had grown more detailed with each passing day. In response, Onyx provided exact answers.
“At present, processing 45 kilograms of cotton into yarn requires approximately fifty thousand hours of labor. However, if we operate the spinning machines using the power of magic stones, it will require only about two thousand hours—an efficiency increase of roughly twenty-five times. If productivity rises, there will be far more we can accomplish afterward.”
The eyes that were usually indifferent gleamed faintly for once.
The position of Crown Prince had been exchanged for his freedom. Unlike the old foxes of the assembly, who merely wished him to live as a decorative flower of the imperial house, Onyx had much to receive.
If he had given something, he would take something in return.
That was a fair bargain.
From childhood, Onyx had been good at calculating. To surrender freedom in exchange for power was a natural equation to him.
And with the power of the Crown Prince, he intended to restore the fading glory of the Visk Imperial House to its rightful place.
That was why he had accepted the crown without complaint. Importing magic stones to create machines that would boost productivity was the beginning of that plan.
“If productivity increases and goods remain in surplus, exports will rise. And if the imperial family manages not only exports but also operational control of the magic stones—”
“The imperial treasury would grow robust,” the Emperor finished.
“Perhaps I should have moved faster. If I had, I might not have been sold off to the Levain family like this.”
“Oh, you brat.”
Yes. Sold off. To the Levains.
Just how generous must the price have been for them to act so arbitrarily?
Even as he outlined his grand design to the Emperor, irritation flared at the image of Minuette’s face shimmering between the lines of text before him.
That face, which seemed destined to become the greatest nuisance of his life.
Minuette, however, was not Onyx’s problem alone.
Though she did not wish to think of her daughter—who had nearly died after a long illness—as a nuisance, as the Countess of Levain read through yet another letter, her resolve only strengthened to marry Minuette off before the year was out.
“This is already the fourth letter.”
Handing the folded letter back to the maid, the Countess looked at the Count with concern.
“Miss Yveline, Countess Boras, Marchioness Vivian, and even my great-aunt, Lady Wesley. It seems the newspaper article has spread all the way to the Courtney territory.”
“Great-aunt is advanced in age. We’ve caused her considerable worry.”
The letter had begun with light pleasantries, as courtesy demanded, but three full pages were devoted entirely to concern about Minuette.
“Worry? At her age, she wouldn’t miss such gossip for the world. She’s probably already packing to come to Ivelia.”
The Countess shuddered at the memory of Lady Wesley, who had turned Ivelia upside down the previous spring while searching for a bride for her son. Fortunately, a young lady blinded by love had eagerly accepted the proposal, and the chaos ended in a year. But remembering how Lady Wesley had intended to visit every debutante season made the Countess’s spine tingle.
“My lady, Minuette despises this so much. Will it truly be all right?”
“Isn’t that how marriages usually are?”
“It wasn’t so for us.”
“That’s because I had the courage, and you were fortunate enough to seize it.”
The story of Erical Levain—once merely the eldest son of a count—falling in love with a princess of Troyzen and marrying her still set noblewomen’s hearts aflame. Some elderly ladies even clicked their tongues, claiming that the trend of free love had spread largely because of the Levain couple.
“My dear, Minuette has already missed her prime marriageable years. She delayed her debut for over five years, and now rumors of her long illness are added on top. You know as well as I do that it would be difficult to find a better match than this.”
It was a pragmatic statement, surprising from a woman who had crossed the sea for love.
“You may call me selfish, but I must see that child married.”
There was truth in her words.
Every gentleman wanted a sturdy lady who could bear and raise healthy children. Yet they could not simply pass their daughter off to some bourgeois family coveting a noble title. If she must be given away, better the imperial house than that.
“You were impressive today, Onyx.”
It was the first day he had introduced the effects of magic stones to the assembly. While the older members remained skeptical, the younger legislators had reacted with explosive enthusiasm. It had been worth the effort of bringing detailed blueprints of the machines he intended to build.
“Not only the imperial treasury but the entire Visk Empire will rise again. At last, the business acumen of the Tromalin imperial line shines. Remarkable.”
Though it sounded like praise for the Crown Prince, no one failed to catch the barb aimed at the business failures of the Emperor and former Emperor.
Having landed a satisfying blow against the resentful legislators who constantly tested his qualifications, Onyx left the assembly chamber with a contented smile.
“Cecilia.”
Among the gentlemen in black uniforms exiting the building, Aegan was the first to notice a young lady in an unusually splendid dress.
“Your Highness, Crown Prince Onyx, and Lord Aegan Berkshire.”
Cecilia greeted them formally and descended the steps alongside them as though she had been waiting.
“What brings a refined lady like you to this rugged assembly hall?”
“I happened to be nearby and thought I would greet my brothers.”
Lowering her eyes gracefully, Cecilia radiated the poise distinctive to a duke’s daughter. Given the lofty location of the assembly hall, Onyx knew well that there was nowhere nearby a noble lady would visit without purpose. He let out a soft chuckle.
“I thought you’d grown quiet for a while.”
His expression, as though he were looking at a cute younger sister, stung Cecilia’s pride. She pouted slightly.
“Cecilia. If you’re coming to a place like this, you should come with your brother.”
Even Aegan teased her as though she were a child, and she protested in a small voice.
“The first debutante ball is being held at Green Leaf Hall tomorrow, isn’t it?”
“That’s right.”
“Then you’ll both attend?”
“Onyx must give a congratulatory speech.”
“You should attend as well. The Dowager Lady of the Berkshire family has been waiting breathlessly to see whether the seat of Lady Berkshire will finally be filled this year.”
“Working day and night because of the Crown Prince, how could I possibly fill that seat? Speaking of which—”
As Aegan exchanged playful remarks with Onyx, he leaned closer to Cecilia.
“So tomorrow is finally our Cecilia’s debut?”
“Sir Aegan Berkshire. Judging by how well-informed you are about debutante seasons, you must have quite a bit of free time these days?”
Only then did a bright smile spread across Cecilia’s face, her intention revealed.
“Brother Onyx. You will be my first dance partner, won’t you?”
After shyly lowering her head at Aegan’s words, Cecilia spoke as though she had been waiting for this moment.
“Perhaps not. I plan only to give my speech and leave.”
The smile on her lips vanished; she grabbed Onyx’s sleeve.
“The capital is filled with articles about the rejection of the imperial marriage proposal. You’re not… planning to become engaged, are you?”
“That’s enough, Cecilia.”
This was as far as he would indulge her.
Lowering his voice as if disciplining a child, Onyx drew the line.
For Cecilia, even the fact that she had waited for him on the street was something she could hardly forgive herself for. Yet she had come all this way for one reason only: the first dance at tomorrow’s debutante. Seeing that Onyx would not even permit her a single word, her grip tightened.
“Why?”
The emotion she had suppressed for so long burst forth as she stared straight at him.
“Are you pushing me away because of Brother Federico? You always say I am like a younger sister, but not a single drop of blood connects us. Even if it did, the imperial house allows marriages between cousins. Why, then, are you so cruel to me?”
“I love you very much. Just not in that way. You must meet a man who will love you.”
Onyx’s gaze shifted to Aegan as they descended the steps.
“Isn’t that right, Aegan?”
“Onyx, imperial marriages are about duty more than love—”
Cecilia tugged at Aegan’s sleeve before he could finish. If he did, her situation would only become more humiliating.
Since imperial marriage was a duty anyway, was she to be accepted as Crown Princess without love?
Even she, who had thought being at his side was enough, did not want that.
With each passing year, she might have grown accustomed to Onyx’s rejections—but instead, the older she became, the harder it was to bear.
If he would see her only as Federico’s little sister, as a child forever—
Her heart tangled with that thought, Cecilia finally spoke, her lips drawn tight.
“Your Highness… you do not perhaps hold feelings for the young lady of the Levain family, do you?”
