Chapter 5
*How magnificent must it be.* Marcella wished she could see the imperial palace, even just once.
“…That’s a look of expectation in your eyes.”
“If you’ve already noticed I’m expecting something, then there’s no need to hold back, right? How splendid is the imperial palace? Is the sword that the Dragon-Slaying King used to kill a dragon really there? The chandelier decorated with 110 diamonds, and the magic stone as big as a person’s head!”
Instead of answering, the boy blinked and looked at Marcella. Marcella’s eyes sparkled, eager for him to reply.
Her sister and brother-in-law often lied to tease her, so she couldn’t tell what was true.
But this serious-faced, unsmiling boy seemed like he would tell her the real story without falsehoods.
“Is that what you want to see?”
“Of course! Why do you think I dream of being a debutante at the Founding Festival?”
“You’re peculiar.”
*Peculiar!* Who are you calling peculiar! Marcella’s eyes widened and she blinked. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear from him, who secretly hunted monsters.
“Even if you go to the Founding Festival, those treasures aren’t things you’ll be able to see. Especially the Dragon-Slaying Sword can’t be taken out of the main palace’s treasure vault…”
As Marcella’s face visibly fell with disappointment, the boy stopped speaking.
He slightly lowered his gaze, then opened his mouth again.
“…I might be able to show you.”
“You can show me?”
“The things you said you wanted to see.”
*Is he a higher-ranking noble than I thought? Could he possibly be the son of some duke?*
Thinking that, Marcella began to feel uneasy about having been sarcastic and rude to him.
He didn’t look like anyone from the Dorus ducal family. He said he was from the west, so maybe a western noble? If so, Martinez?
“They’re not that interesting to see, but if you want to that much…”
“Are you close friends with the imperial family?”
Even if he were a duke’s son, showing someone the imperial treasure vault would require a considerable level of friendship. A ridiculously close friendship at that.
As Marcella doubted his words, he blinked for a moment, then looked away.
“You could say so.”
“Liar!”
“It’s not a lie.”
“Look me in the eye and say it.”
Marcella stared intently at the boy. The boy avoided Marcella’s eyes, glanced at her, then turned his head.
“It’s not a lie.”
“You want me to believe you when you can’t even look at me?”
“……”
“Will you even be at the Founding Festival party?”
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
As Marcella expressed doubt, the boy slowly rolled his eyes toward her, then raised both hands.
“You don’t seem to believe me. Promise me. Promise you’ll definitely show me.”
Marcella extended her pinky finger toward the boy.
The boy blinked, looking at Marcella’s pinky, and finally hooked his own pinky around it.
“I promise. I’ll be waiting for you to come at the party.”
“And you’ll show me the treasures?”
“Yes.”
Unhooking their pinkies, Marcella grabbed his hand firmly.
“No take-backs!”
***
Remembering her past self, Marcella’s face turned bright red, like a tomato about to burst.
Marcella wanted to close her eyes tightly and scream. *Why didn’t I recognize him? No, it’s only natural I didn’t! He grew more than a head taller than three years ago, turning from a boy into a sturdy young man.*
*How was I supposed to think that the guy I figured was at most the second or third son of some duke was actually Nell Hyiri, who became emperor two years ago!*
Marcella screamed internally.
Nell looked at Marcella, tilting his head slightly just as he had three years ago. The only difference was that, because he had grown so much taller, their eyes didn’t meet, and he was looking down at her.
“Marcella?”
Whether their eyes met or not wasn’t important to Marcella right now. *If the rude, high-handed boy I met in the mountains three years ago is Nell Hyiri…!*
Recalling the things she had said in the past, Marcella’s face turned pale. She had been rude and even presumptuous to a prince—now emperor. *What have I done!*
“Sister-in-law?”
Theon called to Marcella, who had turned pale and was lost in thought in front of the emperor. But Marcella didn’t hear him.
“Count Morris’s proxy.”
Theon flinched and took a step back. Arthur Digory was smiling at Theon.
“Now, now. You two seem to have something to discuss, so how about you and I have a drink?”
Seeing Arthur smile at him sent chills down Theon’s spine.
Theon absolutely did not want to ‘have a drink’ with him and subtly tensed his legs, but Arthur pushed him away with force.
*Sister-in-law!* Theon let out a silent scream and sent a pleading look toward Marcella.
By the time Marcella snapped out of it, Arthur had already dragged Theon away. *Leaving me alone with the emperor! How!*
“Marcella?”
“Ye—yes!”
Perhaps from tension, Marcella’s voice came out strained.
The man before her, Nell Hyiri, had become emperor two years ago at the age of sixteen, surpassing his brothers. So, that was the story. The smell of blood hung in the air!
“You don’t look well. Can you make it to the underground?”
“The underground!”
*What does he plan to do taking me underground!*
Startled, Marcella staggered backwards as if having a seizure and ended up tripping over her own feet.
*These flashy, tacky shoes!* Blaming her fall on the shoes, Marcella quickly got up.
The people watching Nell and Marcella from a distance whispered among themselves. Marcella’s face flushed.
“The sword that king used is in the basement of the main palace, so there’s no choice but to go underground.”
“…Sword?”
“Was it not you who begged me to show you the Dragon-Slaying Sword?”
*That was because I didn’t know you were Nell Hyiri!* Marcella felt like she was about to cry from her eyes and sweat from her back.
Nell looked down at Marcella, lowering his gaze.
“Do you not want to see it now?”
*How dare you ask me to show it to you, then call me a liar or a braggart?* It seemed Marcella could hear words Nell hadn’t even said.
Not knowing what to say, Marcella just moved her lips.
Back then, when she asked him to show her, she really wanted to see the treasures. But that was the Marcella of three years ago. Now was different. Now that she knew he was Emperor Nell Hyiri.
“Cough, cough, ahem!”
The sound of an intentionally faked cough was heard. From about ten steps away, Arthur Digory glared at Marcella as if to kill her and gave a large, emphatic nod.
Seeing that momentarily demonic face, Marcella let out a small gasp and shook her head vigorously at him.
“No, I want to see it. Very much!”
Swallowing the words ‘please spare me,’ Marcella uttered words for survival.
Hearing Marcella’s answer, Nell turned and moved his steps toward the banquet hall door.
Marcella couldn’t get her feet to move. But standing still wasn’t an option either, as everyone’s eyes were on her.
Marcella wiped the sweat beading on her forehead from tension. Her pretty makeup was probably ruined by the sweat.
“Cough, ahem!”
Arthur Digory threatened with another cough. He jerked his chin toward Marcella and glared.
Theon, unable to move with Arthur’s arm around his shoulder, looked at Marcella with concern.
“Marcella?”
The emperor called to Marcella, who wasn’t following.
Torn between Arthur Digory’s murderous gaze and the emperor, Marcella closed her eyes tightly and followed the emperor.
“Your steps are slow.”
“My apologies…”
Marcella’s voice trailed off. Nell silently looked down at her, then walked on again.
Marcella hurried after him before he could comment on her slow pace again.
As they completely disappeared from the banquet hall, those left behind began to buzz all at once.
“Count Morris’s proxy.”
The voice of Arthur Digory, who had his arm draped familiarly over Theon’s shoulder, was cold.
A shiver ran down Theon’s spine, and he glanced at Arthur out of the corner of his eye.
*Arthur, the fatherless one. The dirty schemer.* His eyes, associated with countless infamies, were shining.
“Let’s be friends.”
Theon was certain it was the most terrifying sentence he’d heard recently. *Why on earth is he saying such nonsense all of a sudden!*
But the fatherless Arthur was smiling. And very cheerfully at that.
“Friends, Lord Digory, that’s…”
“Arthur.”
As Theon tried to refuse, Duke Digory approached them, glaring at his son with an unpleasant gaze.
*Oh, dear. Just as I swore to you before leaving Morris Castle, my plan was to safely debut sister-in-law Marcella into the capital’s social scene without incident. So how did things turn out like this? What have I done?*
Theon wanted to deny the reality of meeting, one after another, the people he had desperately hoped not to get entangled with—or even encounter—for the sake of an uneventful capital trip.
“Where is His Majesty going in such a hurry?”
The tall, slender man with stark white hair stood before his son and Theon, exuding an intimidating presence that made it hard to think of him as an old man.
Seeing his father, Arthur grinned.
“How could a mere Digory like me fathom His Majesty’s deep intentions?”
“You, who serve by his side, can’t even grasp that much?”
“If your adjutant understands all the dark depths of your mind, Duke, then I suppose I should too.”
As Duke Digory glared at his son as if to kill him and then began to let out a hard, loud laugh, Arthur Digory also laughed loudly in turn.
Theon desperately wished Arthur would remove his arm from his shoulder. If so, he’d run away immediately.
Longing for his wife, Theon prayed to escape safely from the Digory father and son.
As Theon tried to subtly slip away, Arthur tightened his grip on Theon’s shoulder. Theon couldn’t escape.
