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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our ‌‌‌official site: ‌‌‌‌valirscans.org
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Chapter 3
Her brothers had yet to arrive. Gareth, the Crown Prince of The Empire and her half-brother, typically commanded the center of the Banquet Hall or stood like a sovereign ‌‌‌upon the second-floor seat overlooking everything. But tonight, neither he nor his entourage had made an appearance.
And Ayla, with her incomparable ‌‌grace and elegance, would normally be stationed at his side.
'But tonight, I may not see Ayla at all.'
I lifted a ‌‌‌‌silver goblet from the small round table before me and let out a soft, ‌‌‌bitter laugh.
The memory of Ayla collapsing in the center of the Banquet Hall just days ago, her face drained of color, bloomed into a cruel satisfaction within my chest. The sight of her retching wine onto the marble floor—it had seemed as though she were expelling her very heart.
How I wished I could ‌‌‌have made it so.
I dragged my meticulously sharpened nails across the goblet's surface, producing a sharp, grating sound.
Watching my half-sister convulse on the floor, I had prayed with an intensity I could scarcely fathom.
Die, Ayla. Please, never open your eyes again.
"Your Highness."
Lost in these dark reveries, I turned at the voice that reached ‌‌me from nearby.
A man stood before me in a deep green formal coat, one hand placed formally over his heart. His face was familiar.
It took me a ‌‌moment to recall that he was ‌someone who frequently appeared at the banquets my mother hosted.
I could not remember his name. I could only ‌‌vaguely recall my mother referring to him ‌‌‌as Count Serian.
"It has been far too long. Your Highness grows more beautiful with each passing day."
The man gazed down at me with admiring eyes, then bent at the waist to press his lips to the back of my hand. The sensation was utterly repugnant—like a damp caterpillar crawling across my ‌‌skin. Yet I forced a smile.
"Did my mother ask you to keep me company?"
"Her Majesty ‌‌‌‌the ‌‌Empress is always concerned for Your Highness's wellbeing."
The man gave an indirect affirmation.
"But even without Her Majesty's request, I could not have ‌‌‌refrained from speaking with you. Look around, if you would."
He leaned close to my ear, as though imparting some great secret.
"Every man in this hall is watching you. Like me, they wish to approach you, to kiss this beautiful hand, to shower you with fervent praise—yet they suppress these desires. They dare not incur the Crown Prince's displeasure."
"And you do not share their fear?"
"I have long since fallen from his favor, you see."
He offered a shameless smile.
"Thanks to that ‌‌misfortune, I have ‌‌‌been entrusted with the honor of attending to Your Highness tonight. A blessing in disguise, one might say."
I did not care for this ‌‌‌‌man who clung to me with unwarranted interest. In truth, I ‌‌found him repugnant.
Yet enduring the ‌weight of hundreds of piercing stares alone seemed far worse than having some ‌‌‌semblance of a shield.
I accepted his escort with the air of one performing an act of charity. ‌‌
"Did my mother ask you to rescue her poor eldest daughter, the black sheep standing apart from the flock?"
"Her Majesty commanded that I ensure Your Highness is able to fully enjoy the banquet."
I suppressed the urge to scoff.
The Count led me toward ‌‌the stage erected before the balcony as he spoke.
"And she instructed me to ensure that you outshine everyone else in ‌‌this hall."
Those who had been dancing to the ‌‌melody of the lyre, lute, and organ stepped back awkwardly, ‌‌‌their gazes sharp with resentment. But the Count paid them no mind, bowing before me with deliberate flourish.
"Would you grant me the honor of dancing with you, Your Highness?"
I looked down at his soft, uncallused hand with distaste.
I had no desire whatsoever to make contact ‌‌with this man I barely knew. Yet the sharp stares and whispered murmurs of the crowd kindled a defiant spark within me.
They all wish for me to disappear from this place. Or perhaps they hope I will shrink ‌‌into some corner and remain silent, as ‌‌‌though I do not exist.
But that wouldn't do. ‌‌
Talia grasped the man's hand, and as if he'd been waiting for exactly that, he wrapped an arm around her waist and began to navigate the stage with practiced finesse.
Even Talia, who despised physical ‌‌contact with others, couldn't help but admire the man's exceptional dancing prowess. Count Serian knew how to execute flawless movements in time with the melody, and he possessed the subtle artistry of making his partner shine.
Though Talia had always enjoyed dancing, never before had her own movements felt quite so graceful. And it seemed she wasn't the only one who felt it.
She glanced around over the Count's shoulder as he spun her with practiced ease. Hundreds ‌‌‌of pairs of eyes tracked her movements in perfect unison. They couldn't tear their gaze away from the Imperial ‌‌bastard they'd so thoroughly scorned.
Talia felt a surge of triumph. Whenever she'd appeared at official functions ‌‌before, people ‌‌would pretend not to notice while stealing glances at her every move. But those looks had been nothing but expressions of contempt and wariness.
This time was different. They were looking at her the way they looked at her mother—with eyes tangled in threads of fear and fascination that seemed to cling to her very being. ‌‌
It was as if I had become Senebier. The most powerful, dangerous, and beautiful existence in the world.
But the sweet taste of victory was fleeting. Suddenly the music ceased, and the ‌‌‌true stars of the evening made their entrance.
"The ‌‌Great Crown Prince of The Empire, Gareth Roem Guerta, and the First Imperial Princess of The Empire, Ayla Roem Guerta, are entering!"
With the Master of Ceremonies' booming announcement, two members of the Imperial Family descended the marble staircase through the Banquet Hall entrance with commanding strides. And in an instant, Talia was cast out of the spotlight.
Count Serian smiled ruefully and led her ‌‌‌‌toward the terrace where wine and refreshments were laid out.
"It's a pity your enjoyment was interrupted."
The Count attempted a jest to ease the tension in her expression, ‌‌‌but his words barely registered.
Talia stared at Ayla in her pristine white gown with burning eyes. She seemed to have completely forgotten the embarrassing display she'd made before everyone weeks ago.
Watching my half-sister stand beside her brother with an elegant smile on her pretty face, my insides burned with rage.
With ‌relentless intensity, I examined their deep black hair, their emerald eyes, and their faces carved as if from ivory. ‌‌‌
They ‌‌‌‌radiated the dignity and ‌‌‌‌confidence befitting the Imperial Family—something neither Senebier nor I could ever possess no matter how hard we tried. ‌
Senebier was a viper who had dragged a young Emperor once ‌‌‌praised as the Holy Emperor into the filthy swamp of infidelity, and I was the filth that had emerged from that viper's belly. Even if Senebier were to bear dozens of the Emperor's sons, that truth would never change.
Talia quietly glared at her half-siblings surrounded by the crowd's fervent attention, then turned toward the table where wine glasses sat. There, she caught ‌‌‌sight of those who had been gazing at the Princess and ‌‌Crown Prince with longing eyes now exchanging subtle glances while stealing sidelong looks at her.
Every nerve in my body went rigid. I wanted to claw out their eyes.
Don't compare me to them.
Suppressing the urge to scream those words, I desperately maintained an indifferent expression when the man beside me, oblivious to my state, leaned close and whispered in my ear.
"It seems the two of them intend to ignore ‌‌‌Your Highness's presence. What ‌‌will you do? Shall you go greet them first?"
She shot him ‌‌‌a venomous glare.
He pulled his lips into a smile as if amused.
"Isn't that precisely why you came here?"
Talia bit her lip.
He was right. I had appeared at this gathering to ruin my siblings' mood, to create a terrible discord in the midst of their celebration by everyone. And Senebier would want exactly that.
Having finally steeled myself, Talia gripped her wine glass tightly and ‌‌‌‌‌turned toward my half-siblings, then walked forward with confidence through the crowd.
At that moment, Barcas Laedgo Sierchan appeared at the entrance of the ‌‌‌‍Banquet Hall.
Talia froze. Her heart pounded as if she'd been ambushed without warning.

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Brought ‌‌‌‌to you by Valir Scans! To ‌‌support our team ‌and enjoy the latest releases, please ‌‌read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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