YWUSB~19💥

Chapter 19

The Emperor was pleased with Kapren’s words.

With his faint sky-blue eyes, he looked down from the dais and asked,

“How do you think?”

Sioden could not answer immediately.

Kneeling and bowing one’s head had once been a form of loyalty, but it was now an obsolete ritual—something closer to what slaves once did for their masters.

Even among the heads of other noble houses, he was still young. But even so, he was not in a position where he should have to endure such humiliation to prove his loyalty.

In truth, the current Emperor, even when Rox was still alive, had treated him as a thorn in his side—but he had never dared to handle Lasset lightly.

That was because of the military achievements he had built and the army he commanded.

It was Kapren Lowen who spoke then.

“There is no need to force him so much. He is still young, is he not?”

The man curved his golden eyes smoothly.

“And what does age have to do with what is important?”

At that moment, Sioden realized he could not afford to waste time.

If he refused the Emperor’s proposal, the Emperor would use it as an excuse to suspect Lasset at any time.

Most of the soldiers had been inherited, but his father’s achievements had disappeared with his death.

The commanders who had served under the previous head of the house acknowledged the heir, but they did not obey him as they had obeyed the former lord.

He had not even properly secured his position within the family—he could not afford to create conflict with the Imperial House.

In the end, he had to kneel on the floor under the gaze of the Emperor and Kapren Lowen.

When he lifted his head again, the Emperor said,

“I have received your loyalty well.”

His voice was gentle, almost kind, but a crude pleasure was clearly hidden beneath it.

“Continue to serve the Imperial House faithfully.”

Sioden suppressed the boiling humiliation and disgrace and answered,

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Seeing his clean, unflinching face, the Emperor raised the corners of his lips once more.

After leaving the audience chamber, there was somewhere he had to go—the banquet hall where the Harvest Festival celebration was being held.

“Are you all right?”

His aide, Ben, who had been waiting outside the audience chamber, followed him and asked.

“If you wish to rest in a private room, I can guide you there.”

Sioden shook his head at the concerned aide. Too many eyes were watching. He needed to avoid anything that could be used against him.

As he entered the banquet hall, dozens of eyes turned toward him.

His stomach churned. Sioden did not like being looked at. It was not the intention behind it—he simply hated being the center of attention.

Some people whispered to each other. But their eyes remained on him, so Sioden could easily guess what they were saying.

The Lasset who had been shut away in the North. The son born between the Emperor who had once courted the woman who nearly became Empress and his former friend.

Some of them approached him.

“Greetings. I was a close acquaintance of the late Lord Lasset.”

The man wore a carefully constructed expression of goodwill.

But the hidden curiosity beneath it was in a completely different place, and Sioden did not want to smile back at it.

The man continued,

“I saw you when you were young. Seeing you now, you truly resemble your father.”

“You really do resemble your father.”

A woman’s twisted face flashed through his memory.

“How could I ever love you?”

His chest churned.

He did not want to think of Evelyn in a moment like this. Neither her, nor Rox—the source of all her resentment—had they not already been buried underground?

Yet it felt as if he alone were still chained to those ghosts.

Sioden gave a shallow nod.

“I see.”

He immediately turned away.

“I’m busy. Excuse me.”

The man looked like he had more to say, but Sioden did not look back. His aide Ben stepped in to fill the space he left.

Leaving the aide to handle the social situation, Sioden scanned the banquet hall for an empty terrace.

Going outside would only lead to the stifling southern air waiting for him. But staying inside was even worse.

When he finally found a dark, unlit terrace and opened the door, someone was already there.

A slender back, pale shoulders exposed above a fashionable dress—caught his eye.

The woman turned around. Her brightly colored hair, adorned with jeweled ornaments, spilled over her shoulders. It flowed all the way down to the brooch on her chest—likely a family insignia, though it was too dark to see clearly.

Sioden, who had been momentarily distracted by the flowing hair, realized he had been staring too long.

He bowed his head slightly.

“…My apologies.”

The woman looked at him for a moment before speaking.

“You can stay here for a while if you want.”

Though it was a simple permission, Sioden hesitated. He did not want to make a stranger uncomfortable.

But returning to the crowd was also something he wanted to avoid if possible.

Especially to those people who would dig through his unwanted past.

The decision did not take long.

He would just occupy the space briefly. If she seemed uncomfortable, he would leave.

Even if she had other intentions, one person was better than the suffocating crowd outside.

“Then, I will impose for a short while.”

The woman nodded and turned back toward the railing. Her gaze seemed deeply focused on the night view, as if it held some meaning for her.

She did not seem to know who he was. Sioden realized the lack of visible family insignia in the darkness. That strangely reassured him.

After a while, she suddenly walked toward the door.

“If you want drinks, bring them here. No need to light the area—just leave.”

Her voice drifted in from outside.

Their eyes met briefly. Her unusually light-colored eyes stood out in the dark.

At the thought of wanting to know their exact color, she spoke.

“I told them not to light it. If the terrace is bright, the shadow inside would be visible.”

She was protecting him.

If the lights were on, someone would have noticed he was here.

“Thank you.”

“No, I also wanted to stay in the dark tonight.”

Her pale shoulders came into view again.

She might be cold, he thought suddenly. For him, it was a warm southern night, but people from the capital said it was cool.

A single coat would not matter much.

He draped his outer coat over her shoulders. The woman laughed softly, her eyes curving like crescent moons—she knew exactly how to look gentle.

After that, she spoke to him in a pleasant voice. Sioden did not refuse the conversation.

The more they talked, the less he felt the discomfort he had carried before entering the terrace.

Whether it was because his mind was distracted, or because the person in front of him was special, he could not tell.

Only that where unease had been, there was now a pleasant voice and gently curved eyes.

Though he did not even know her name, he answered her questions honestly.

Only one thing—

“I am not from a particularly great lineage, so please do not feel intimidated.”

That was the only exception.

Still, it was not a lie. A prestigious family name did not elevate the blood beneath it.

His parents, while noble in status, were not particularly refined people.

When he asked about her origins, she replied as expected.

“I was born and raised in the capital.”

Sioden studied her face carefully.

The capital… He remembered Evelyn’s words.

“The capital is far more refined than the North.”

At the time, he had thought it was just the lament of someone unable to return to the past.

Now, it did not seem entirely wrong.

He had never felt like this in the North.

Perhaps that was why.

He impulsively held out his hand.

“Den.”

It was fortunate he used an alias.

The woman smiled again. Her bright eyes reflected him.

“Call me Ella.”

Why was she alone?

If he had come in with her, he would not have been able to leave her side.

If he had met someone like her—clear eyes, soft voice, and a gentle smile—he would have clung to her without hesitation.

He soon learned why she was alone.

“I came with my father. I’m not engaged or married yet.”

Her father seemed unaware of how people thought. Or perhaps he was simply too pure to imagine what other men might think.

Otherwise, he would not have left his daughter alone like this.

Even Sioden found himself wanting to keep talking to her.

So, something he would normally never do—

“If you find it stifling, would you like to take a walk with me?”

In truth, he had never cared much about others’ feelings.

But at that moment, he felt he could imitate such attentiveness.

And yet, like a reckless child, he jumped down from the railing.

“Den!”

Ella’s eyes widened as she looked down. Sioden stood below, looking up at her.

Under the moonlight, her hair flowed over his coat like strands of gold.

At that moment, he realized something he had been curious about.

Ella’s eyes were a clear green.

For some reason, that made him feel strangely pleased.

Tonight, he decided, he would walk with her.

A feeling he had never experienced before, yet unmistakably clear.

He wanted her to come down.

He wanted her to walk with him.

“Before you come down, tell your servant to light the way. It won’t look like you left your place.”

Even knowing he was trying to persuade her, he did not stop.

He did not think he should.

Rather, he wanted her to agree.

He wanted her to want to spend this time with him.

As he did.

He wanted her to walk with him, to listen to his voice longer.

To take his hand.

Ella looked down at him quietly.

One gaze alone made him tense.

Then she spoke.

“Stay right there.”

At that, Sioden finally let out a laugh.

Even if he had to stand there all night obeying her sharp little command, he would not have complained.

Soon after, she returned—her face carrying a hint of excitement and nervousness.

“How do I get down?”

Sioden showed her how to trust him instead of jumping.

She followed his instructions. Sitting on the railing, she reached out her hand.

When her light, delicate hand rested in his, Sioden pulled her down without hesitation.

And then—

A cascade of golden light spilled into his arms.