~Chapter 07~
Ivyn hugged Dylan’s broad shoulders.
It was less an intentional action and more something that sprang forth unconsciously.
Leaning against his large shoulders, she smelled a warm, campfire-like scent.
“Sniff…”
From behind, she heard the triplets sniffling.
A snot bubble the size of a large bead hung from each of their noses, expanding and shrinking with every inhale and exhale.
“Vinnie… Fa…ther…”
“Wahh… Waaahaaaaah!”
“Hold me too… Hold us too… Vinnie… Sniff… Sniff!”
True to being triplets, with no one taking the lead, the three brothers rushed forward simultaneously to hug Dylan and Ivyn.
Ron, watching the scene from a few steps away, had eyes that had already turned red. Bill was repeatedly rubbing his own stinging, aching eyes, trying to look nonchalant.
“Our youngest has come back, so it’s all good now. Everything’s fine.”
Holding each other tightly and sharing warmth, their cozy atmosphere seemed as peaceful as a family of squirrels gathered in a winter nest.
A slight smile had also found its way onto Ivyn’s lips, buried in Dylan’s shoulder.
If she had to put a name to this feeling now…
It would probably be something like a sense of stability and relief.
She thought to herself.
—
** * * **
The next morning.
A royal messenger arrived at the Kinzell family mansion.
The notice stated that the Emperor had returned from the eastern and western borders, so the audience could resume.
“His Majesty the Emperor will arrive shortly. Please proceed inside the conference hall.”
Following the attendant’s words, Ivyn and Dylan rose from the waiting room and began walking down the long corridor leading to the conference hall together.
*Rustle, rustle.*
The corridor was quiet enough to hear the sound of clothes brushing, but Ivyn’s mind was restless with thoughts about the Emperor.
‘Rociniel Dominianus Jean Marchand. The man who ascended to the throne at age 12 and ruled the empire under a regency until his coming-of-age ceremony… What were the descriptors again? Rascal, bastard, and what else?’
His role in the original story wasn’t very large.
‘However, due to his position as Emperor, whenever he appeared, significant moments or turning points in the story tended to occur.’
Around the time Ivyn’s thoughts reached this point,
the footsteps of father and daughter had already arrived at the palace conference hall.
Upon entering, the first thing that caught the eye was the enormous chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
Beneath it, nobles in neat suits were shuffling through documents or whispering to each other, observing their entrance, but none offered a greeting first.
“……”
Perhaps sensing his daughter’s tension, Dylan firmly grasped Ivyn’s hand with his large, thick one.
“It’s alright, your father is right here.”
“Yes.”
Truly, as Dylan said, the mere fact that he was beside her seemed to noticeably calm Ivyn’s heart.
“Hey, you. It’s not like you to keep using formal speech.”
“Ah… I, I think I’m just a bit nervous.”
“Are you going to keep hurting this father’s feelings like that? Huh?”
“Hehe.”
She still felt more comfortable using formal speech due to not being fully intimate with Dylan yet, but Ivyn thought this issue would resolve itself over time.
“Duke Dylan Kinzell and Lady Ivyn Kinzell are entering.”
The two bowed toward the officials who had already arrived and taken their seats, then went to their assigned seats and sat down.
“Phew…”
After sitting down, Ivyn let out a low breath and looked around the inside of the conference hall.
Immediately upon sitting, she was met with the sharp, arrow-like gazes of the officials.
‘No need to be flustered. In the original novel, the palace officials weren’t favorable toward the necromancer family either.’
Just as she was trying hard to ignore their stares and turned her head forward…
‘Huh?’
A familiar face entered her sky-blue eyes.
Sitting diagonally opposite her was Theodore Raytner, wearing a white uniform coat with epaulettes instead of his shining armor.
He was staring straight ahead with a cold, stern face.
Dark circles under his eyes, a sharp expression worn with fatigue.
His handsome face looked rough, as if he hadn’t slept for several nights.
‘I don’t know for sure, but it seems he got a severe scolding from his superiors for letting me escape…’
While staring at Theodore for a long while, suddenly his gaze turned toward her.
Even the act of turning his head carried a sense of precision, like pulling a loaded trigger.
She quickly averted her gaze to avoid meeting Theodore’s eyes, but…
‘Too late.’
The first thing that leaped out from the man’s icy gaze was none other than killing intent.
And why wouldn’t it be?
It was only a few days ago that he not only lost a captured prisoner but also had his forward base completely wrecked.
She could vividly picture him being brought before a Theocracy tribunal, unable to even lift his head.
‘Geez, I feel kinda sorry for him…’
He *is* the male lead, after all.
To make him suffer like this so early in the story…
Even Ivyn felt a bit regretful.
But there was no helping it.
The moment she, who should have died in prison, survived, the story had already branched differently from the original from the very first divergence point.
This current scene was likely the resulting ripple effect or the sudden development of a new episode.
‘He could kill someone with that glare, how terrifying.’
Just as Ivyn was squirming uncomfortably under Theodore’s murderous glare…
“His Majesty the Emperor enters!”
As the attendant loudly announced the Emperor’s entrance, everyone gathered in the grand conference hall stood up.
Then, the conference room doors opened, and the young Emperor and the Royal Guards surrounding him entered in turn.
The young Emperor was majestically dressed in a magenta velvet doublet and cloak.
Upon his platinum blond hair, symbolizing the royal pure bloodline, rested a large gold crown studded with emeralds.
“Have you all been well?”
Scanning the nobles gathered in the conference hall with his red eyes, he waved his hand lightly.
It was a gesture suggesting they had shown enough respect and should now sit down.
Rociniel took off the gold crown from his head and casually placed it on the table as he sat down.
It was a lighthearted attitude, as if the item he had just been wearing was a shepherd’s hat.
“So, I hear there was a dispute between the Kinzell family, for whom I hold particular affection, and the Holy Theocracy of Styavania?”
The young Emperor was, as described in the novel, a handsome type.
If Theodore was a traditional handsome face, Rociniel was more of a modern handsome type, perhaps?
More like a cool, handsome guy rather than a classical one… huh?
…Wait a minute.
Ivyn, who had been scanning his face with interest, paused.
‘What’s this? This feeling of familiarity, even though it’s our first meeting.’
A strangely familiar feeling had brushed past her.
Features with sharply defined eyes and lips, giving off a trendy vibe.
That casual, somewhat cocky attitude suggesting he knows his worth, and flawless, glossy skin that looks well-fed and well-rested.
Add to that his unique mischievous, somewhat crooked expression.
And is that all?
‘That hairstyle… it’s a slicked-back undercut?!’
A slicked-back undercut—short on the sides and back, with the top slicked back with pomade—was like the hallmark of a trendy style.
‘It’s like I’ve seen it somewhere before… Ah!’
Suddenly, a stage of reality unfolded before her eyes like a VR simulation.
The location was a PC bang, the kind you’d find in modern Earth.
—
“Hey, you. Got a light?”
“Huh? No, I don’t…”
“Bullshit. You look like you definitely have one.”
“Really, uh, I don’t…”
—
A bitter memory from the past.
No wonder.
I feel like giving him a dirty look without even knowing why.
That’s not an emperor, that’s just…
‘A punk!’
Ivyn hid her flustered expression by reaching for the water glass placed in front of her.
*Tremble, tremble.*
Her hand holding the glass shook slightly, but fortunately, it wasn’t enough to spill water as she brought it to her lips.
“Why fight when you could get along nicely?”
*Pop.*
Rociniel popped open a liquor bottle that had been prepared on the round table and poured clear liqueur into an empty on-the-rocks glass.
*Gulp, gulp.*
Draining the glass in one go, he indifferently wiped his alcohol-reddened lips with the back of his hand and cast his gaze toward Dylan.
“So, what was it again, that thing?”
“It was an incident of unlawful abduction, imprisonment, and threats against my daughter by the Holy Theocracy, Your Majesty,”
Dylan answered the Emperor’s question in a tightly controlled voice, suppressing his anger.
“Abduction? Our Theocracy merely apprehended a potential criminal, identified through a complainant’s testimony as colluding with an organization called the ‘Dark Covenant,’ in accordance with procedures.”
Quick to rise in opposition was the Theocracy’s Archbishop Bernas.
“What?! A criminal?!”
*BAM!*
Dylan slammed the table with his rock-like fists and shot up. His fingertips trembled as if he wanted to wring the Archbishop’s neck right then and there.
Ivyn felt the same way—so incredulous at the Archbishop’s statement that anger surged within her.
A criminal?
Based on just one testimony from an unidentified witness, without any proper evidence?
*Swoosh.*
Quietly seated, Ivyn stood up following Dylan. Instantly, all eyes in the conference hall converged on her.
Among them were Theodore’s cautious gaze and Rociniel’s interested look, all mixed together.
“What you just said seems to differ quite a bit from the facts, Archbishop.”
“…What?”
At her sudden intervention, the Archbishop revealed a displeased expression.
Ivyn flinched slightly at the blatant hostility but tried her best not to show it.
Meeting the Archbishop’s gaze calmly, Ivyn turned her body slightly to look at the Emperor.
“I greet the Sun of the Whig Empire. My name is Ivyn of the Kinzell family.”
Ivyn placed one hand on her chest, lifted the hem of her dress with the other, and bowed her upper body toward the young Emperor in a curtsy.
Of course, as a former ordinary office worker in her past life, there was no way she had received special training in palace etiquette. However, thanks to her experience as a veteran (?) who had devoured various romance fantasy novels, she managed not to falter too much.
“……”
As if visually assessing the other person, Rociniel slowly moved his gaze along the curves of Ivyn’s body, from her head down to her toes.
The emotion evident at the end of that gaze was interest.
