A Chilling Breakfast Meeting (1)
The massive doors to the hall swung open at the secretary’s announcement: “His Highness the Third Prince, Edwin Anaxinian Ventrum, has arrived.”
Edwin swallowed without meaning to as he stepped inside.
“Welcome, Edwin.”
Cabelius III, Emperor of the Ventrum Empire, greeted him. The extravagant crown atop his head left no doubt of his station.
“Take your seat.”
Edwin offered a brief bow and sat down.
“Your Majesty, I instructed the kitchens to prepare venison, your favorite. Please, enjoy it while it’s hot.”
The woman seated to the emperor’s left spoke in a sweet, lilting voice. The dazzling beauty with platinum hair and blazing red eyes was none other than the Second Imperial Consort, Helena Radcliffe.
Second Consort.
The moment Edwin heard her voice, his shoulders drew up on reflex. Unwanted memories had surfaced.
“I caught this deer myself, Father, just to offer it to you!”
A loud voice rang out from across the table. It was the Second Prince, Lloyd.
“You caught it yourself, Lloyd?”
“Yes! One arrow, clean through!”
Lloyd answered with open pride. The Second Prince gazed at his father with eyes that begged for praise.
“It seems the Second Prince’s archery has improved considerably while I wasn’t looking.”
“Of course! Everyone said I could shoot a bird on the wing! My skill with a bow won’t lose to my brother’s!”
Lloyd declared, staring pointedly at the boy seated opposite him.
“Haha. And what do you think, Adrian?”
The boy flicked a glance at Lloyd, then returned his attention to his plate.
“I’m not sure. I’ve scarcely seen Lloyd shoot. He always orders the knights to do it, so I couldn’t say.”
Red hair, enigmatic gray eyes, and a detached air far beyond his years—the boy was the empire’s First Prince, Adrian Sapiens Ventrum.
“Brother! When have I ever done that? How can you say such a thing!”
Lloyd’s face flushed scarlet, stung by the truth, and his voice rose in anger.
Yet the First Prince Adrian did not spare him so much as a glance, calmly continuing his meal.
At that moment, the woman beside Adrian finally spoke.
“‘I’m not sure’? Haven’t I told you not to use such unsuitable language before His Majesty, Adrian?”
The Empress of the empire and sole younger sister of Duke Crown—Melanie Crown. Unlike Helena, she possessed the refined, tranquil beauty of an ancient painting.
“My apologies, Mother.”
Adrian offered his mother an immediate and flawless apology.
The emperor, observing them, gave a small shrug and chuckled.
“My, my. The empress remains as strict with the First Prince as ever. Do not be too harsh.”
“How could I not be? The education of the heir who will one day succeed Your Majesty must be absolutely thorough.”
The Second Consort’s face crumpled at once.
She had every reason to look sour; they were speaking as though the Second Prince did not exist.
“Quite right. Her Majesty the Empress speaks with perfect wisdom.”
But Helena Radcliffe was not one to be outdone. She smiled radiantly, as if the scowl had never existed.
“How could we possibly neglect the education of the imperial heirs?”
Helena continued in a honeyed, sociable tone.
“That is why I, too, have devoted great care to Lloyd’s training. As a result, his archery has advanced remarkably.”
“In my view, the Second Prince would benefit more from cultivating patience than archery skill, Consort.”
The empress sliced through the meat on her plate as she replied.
“After all, refraining from raising one’s voice before His Majesty is the most elementary courtesy.”
“Oh dear. Did Lloyd’s voice sound so terribly loud? I had no idea Your Majesty possessed such keen ears. What is your secret?”
“I have none in particular, but since the consort appears hard of hearing, it seems I must invent one and share it with you.”
All the while, Edwin ate in silence, mechanically lifting food to his mouth.
So this is what Rachel meant.
Just as she had warned, not one of them showed the slightest interest in him. The Second Prince, and even the Second Consort, were too busy waging their silent war against the empress to spare him a glance.
Honestly, it’s more comfortable this way.
Edwin kept his eyes fixed on his plate, moving his fork with mechanical precision. He simply wished for this stifling meal to end quickly.
Clink. Clink.
The emperor tapped his wine glass twice with his fork.
“My ladies are full of vigor even at breakfast. That will be quite enough quarreling.”
He shook his head as though weary of the display and smoothly changed the subject.
“I shall soon host a hunting competition. We will evaluate the princes’ archery then. Satisfied?”
At a single word from the emperor, both women fell silent.
“All princes will attend without exception. Bear that in mind.”
“Your Majesty.”
The Second Consort spoke again, a gentle smile curving her lips.
“All must attend? Such a declaration would place anyone unfamiliar with hunting in a rather awkward position, would it not?”
“Hm?”
The emperor lifted an eyebrow.
“Is there a prince who cannot hunt?”
“Indeed there is. Isn’t that so, Your Highness Edwin?”
Helena turned toward him so abruptly that Edwin had no chance to look away. Their eyes met.
Strange.
The gaze that should have terrified him, the face he had once feared more than anything, held no power over him now.
Why?
Edwin was bewildered. Even while locking eyes with the Second Consort he had dreaded for so long, he felt nothing. The monsters he had faced in Luxen Village had been far more frightening.
He forgot to answer and simply chewed his meat in a daze.
“Your Highness? Have you nothing to say?”
The Second Consort’s eyes narrowed at his silence.
At the same time, Edwin met the emperor’s gaze. Cabelius III was staring at him with piercing intensity, as though the correct reply had already been decided.
And Edwin instinctively understood what his father wanted.
“…Hunting is new to me, but I will participate in the competition and do my best.”
“What—”
The Second Consort had no time to protest. The emperor laughed and struck his glass the moment Edwin finished speaking.
“Good. A prince should know the joy of the hunt.”
A brief silence followed the emperor’s words.
While the others remained indifferent, the Second Consort’s face had hardened noticeably.
His Majesty called that a prince.
She glared at the Third Prince, teeth clenched.
He suddenly insisted on attending this breakfast. So this was his intention?
Helena glanced sideways at the emperor. On the surface he looked the same as always, yet something about him seemed unusually pleased.
This is your design, then.
There was clearly a reason behind the Third Prince’s sudden elevation. Beneath the table, veins stood out sharply on the back of the Second Consort’s delicate hand.
Whether aware of her fury or simply unconcerned, the emperor tilted his glass with a faint smile.
“I find myself looking forward to the competition already.”
In that moment, the only person who genuinely seemed to be enjoying himself was the emperor.
The first-floor dining hall the servant led them to was covered in splendid mosaics. Being part of the imperial palace, even the servants’ quarters were not decorated carelessly.
Several tables in the center were already occupied by others enjoying their meals. When Rachel and Catherine sat at an empty table, a maid promptly brought their food.
“Good heavens. What on earth is this flavor?”
Catherine kept exclaiming as she ate.
“What ingredients could possibly make a soup taste like this?”
“I believe it’s clove.”
“What’s clove?”
“A spice from the Eastern Continent. I hear it’s also used medicinally.”
“It’s exactly to my taste. We should keep some at the Third Prince’s Palace.”
“In the empire and the western regions it’s said to be worth its weight in gold, so bringing it to the Third Prince’s Palace would be nearly impossible.”
“What a pity. Then I suppose I’ll just have to eat my fill while we’re here.”
Catherine began shoveling food into her mouth as though this were the opportunity of a lifetime.
Hmm. As expected of the empire. These are all things that were nearly impossible to taste even when I was with the organization.
Unlike this place, the Third Prince’s Palace served dishes that commoners would eat, aside from the occasional meat and wine. Humble stews made from vegetables, barley, and beans appeared frequently, with meat or fish only now and then.
“Ah, I should have brought Her Highness Emilia with us.”
Catherine paused mid-cut with a dreamy expression, then pulled a face.
“Do you think the gardener will manage Her Highness’s meal properly?”
“Don’t worry. He’s not so useless that he can’t feed her food that’s already been set out.”
After all, he was the man who had raised Leo from a newborn in the plague village all the way to this age. His personality was terrible and his tongue sharp, but when it came to childcare he was far more skilled than she was.
“Would it be too much to ask them to pack a little of this?”
Catherine lowered her voice and glanced around.
“Actually, I brought some bowls and a cloth. Should I take just a bit?”
“…Catherine, stealing is wrong.”
“It’s not stealing, it’s sharing! Sharing!”
As expected, this woman was no ordinary character either.
I turned my eyes away from Catherine, who was making excuses while busily packing food into the cloth.
“Hey, are you two the maids serving His Highness the Third Prince?”