Chapter 4
He looked at the soldiers and lifted the corners of his lips in an exceedingly gentle smile.
Though it was clearly a smile, there was something subtly off about it that sent a chill down their spines.
“So I’ll take this as a personal invitation.”
A shabby appearance and a miserable state. On top of that, a short stature for a man.
Yet an authority that could never be ignored flowed from him, binding their bodies in place.
“So open the door.”
The soldiers could not pull the spear out of the prince’s grasp as he spoke in a mild tone. Faced with his overwhelming strength, they hesitated, exchanged glances, and finally opened the closed door. Through the narrow gap they glimpsed as it opened, a new world unfolded before their eyes.
That was exactly how it felt.
“This way.”
The man who had been guarding the front extended his hand as if in a dream. As Ezra stared blankly at the outstretched hand for a long moment, he leaned in and whispered softly by her ear.
“If you look at people with that expression, most men will get the wrong idea.”
Was it habit? There was unmistakable mischief in his crescent-shaped eyes. He took hold of Ezra’s frozen hand and began to walk forward. Only then was she able to leave that spot.
It felt as though the cord that had bound her life tight, leaving her unable to move either forward or back, had suddenly snapped. At some point, a foreign man had carved a path straight into her mind. For the first time, she stepped forward, following him.
Her gaze traveled up from their tightly clasped hands and came to rest on his solid back. The multicolored light spilling from the jewels hanging from the domed ceiling. The lavish hall filled with gilded statues, and the dazzling figures parading through it.
There was no room to take it all in—each sight captured the eyes and bewitched the heart. Regrettably, only the broad back guiding her forward filled her thoughts. His shimmering silver hair, his dependable back, his straight and confident stride.
The warmth of his hand, gripping hers even tighter as if afraid to lose her, was painfully vivid. As if checking whether she was keeping up, he turned his head and met her eyes.
His red eyes were the sun. Impossible to look at directly—one that would burn her the moment she drew too close… the sun.
She had no choice but to realize why he had stood firm without fleeing the despair that surrounded him.
Ezra unconsciously tightened her grip on his hand.
*The truth is, I didn’t want to go back. I hoped that if I just stood there in front of the door, if I kept standing there, they’d have no choice but to open it. I wanted to see you—just one more time—waiting on the other side.*
Meanwhile, as an uninvited guest entered, all eyes turned toward her as if on cue. The abandoned fourth princess, known only through rumors. And the imperial prince who had personally escorted her in. The nobles could not hide their curiosity as they stole glances at the two and whispered among themselves.
In contrast, the royal family made their discomfort at her appearance plain. Among them, the queen glared at Ezra with venomous eyes, as though she wanted to tear her apart.
Golden chairs prepared for royalty. Ordinarily, one of royal blood would sit there and look down on everything—but there was, of course, no seat prepared for Ezra. It laid bare her position.
“So it’s this bad,” Hipolotes muttered to himself as he coolly swept his gaze over the royals.
Perhaps it was the queen’s stare. Terrified of something, the woman—pale as a sheet and trembling—finally staggered like a piece of paper.
Reacting instinctively, he wrapped an arm around Ezra’s waist and supported her with practiced ease. Watching this, the faces of the three princesses twisted in different ways. When Skene tried to leap to her feet in rage, the maid beside her desperately restrained her. In the end, Skene muttered curses through a contorted face, struggling to calm herself.
“I—I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
He had lowered his voice subtly, but Ezra had no presence of mind to notice.
“I caused trouble for you for no reason. Someone like me… you could’ve just ignored me.”
“It’s not troublesome at all.”
Troubled by something like this? If anything, the situation was going so smoothly he felt like humming a tune.
He glanced briefly toward the open doors meant for the nobles. When he signaled to Matari with his eyes, she gave a slight bow and quickly withdrew.
Regardless of whether Hieros cleared his throat with displeasure or not, Hipolotes naturally escorted Ezra forward.
As nearly all the invited nobles entered, the hall—filled with lively music—grew even more animated.
As Ezra looked around restlessly, Hipolotes whispered quietly to her.
“First, I need to offer my thanks to Lord Hieros.”
“Ah… I—”
Only then did Ezra realize she had been gripping his sleeve tightly. Startled, she quickly let go. Feeling her face heat up, she didn’t know what to do as his laughter spilled down over her head.
“Wait here just a little.”
Wait—did that mean he would come back to her? The man, now speaking to her as if they were familiar, strode confidently down the path prepared for the royals. Ezra watched his retreating figure, her heart filling with budding anticipation.
Stopping before a flight of some fifteen steps, Hipolotes knelt on one knee at a respectful distance. Each of his movements exuded flawless dignity.
“Thank you for preparing such an excessive honor.”
“On the contrary, I’m grateful that you’ve graced us with your presence. This seat was prepared for you—may this be a time for you to grow closer to everyone.”
Even under the weight of the other’s severe gaze, the foreign prince did not falter. Hieros’s expression as he scrutinized him darkened noticeably. Whether he nodded reluctantly or not, the atmosphere gradually loosened and ripened.
Among familiar faces, people wore countless masks as they faced one another. Beneath hearty, bright laughter, unseen food chains stretched and overturned like spiderwebs.
Moving about and exchanging long and short conversations, the nobles greeted approaching princesses with their brightest smiles. They lavished them with praise and flattery, whispering embellished stories meant to pique their curiosity.
The nobles approaching Hipolotes were endless as well—high-ranking aristocrats wielding long-held power, and newly wealthy low-ranking nobles puffed up with arrogance. Regardless of rank, they were eager to pick up whatever scraps might fall from him.
Glossa, who had been observing the flow of events and waiting for the right moment, slowly made her way toward Hipolotes, who was being held up by Skene.
“Lord Hipolotes. We finally meet properly. Do you remember me?”
An elegant gesture. Despite her gentle tone, the eyes she cast toward Skene were fierce.
“Princess Glossa, the first princess, is it not?”
Hipolotes courteously kissed the back of Glossa’s hand. Accepting the gesture as if it were only natural, she slowly withdrew her jewel-adorned hand.
“What were you and Skene talking about so enjoyably?”
“Her Highness was telling me about the walls of Titen.”
“…I see?”
At the mention of the walls, Glossa stiffened. Realizing her mistake, Skene looked stricken. Her eyes wandered anxiously. Grinding her teeth inwardly, Glossa forced a smile at Hipolotes.
“And what kind of story was it?”
“It was about the god Dahlia who protects Titen, and his sacred relic. Perhaps because it’s unimaginable in the Waster Empire, I found it quite fascinating.”
The man replied smoothly with a shrug, his eyes filled only with pure curiosity. Reassured, Glossa hurried to smooth over her foolish sister’s blunder.
“It’s nothing more than a legend. Those who failed to conquer Titen’s formidable walls merely dressed up their own weakness that way.”
“Is that so? What a pity. If it were true, Titen’s glory could have lasted forever.”
“Well… yes.”
An inexplicable sense of unease crept in. The words sounded clear enough, yet the underlying meaning felt like a suggestion that Titen could fall.
Glossa looked up at the ugly-faced man and gave a shallow shake of her head.
Impossible. Wasn’t this the man who had come seeking a princess in order to pursue harmony with Titen?
As confusion briefly clouded Glossa’s vision, a hand suddenly intruded into her view.
Startled, she heard him whisper intimately by her ear.
“Princess Glossa. Would you dance with me?”
“…Of course.”
As his unpleasantly ugly face drew close, the corners of her lifted lips twitched, but Glossa placed her hand in his. Leading her into the center of the banquet, he guided her with practiced ease. From his meticulous consideration for his partner flowed impeccable elegance.
The nobles who had been watching the strangely mismatched pair soon began asking one another to dance as well. Retreating to the edge of the hall, Ezra stood motionless before a golden curtain, observing everything.
Among all those enjoying the banquet, Hipolotes and Glossa shone so brightly that everywhere else seemed dark by comparison.
Perhaps that was why—even in complete isolation, she didn’t feel lonely. The smiles he gave whenever their eyes met, the way his hair swayed lightly with his movements, the strong arm firmly supporting her waist. Simply capturing each of his moments in her eyes was enough to make her happy.
“It feels like a dream.”
As she covered the corners of her mouth that kept lifting and glanced around—
That dreamlike happiness didn’t last long. Despair caught her by the ankle and slammed her to the ground.
A shadow crept up beside her, swallowing even her own. From the vicious gaze that crossed all bounds, she instantly knew who was blocking her path.
Hate pierced her entire body. Unable to even lift her bowed head, she stumbled backward. The golden wall against her back felt cold. She clenched her teeth to hide her trembling jaw.
Mineth suppressed the urge to grab Ezra by the hair and spat out, her lips quivering with fury,
“You trash-like bitch. Do you even know where you are?”
“Y-Your Majesty, the Queen…”
“Smile. Right now. Before I smash that face of yours.”
Threatened, Ezra forced a tearful smile. She was afraid the tears welling between her folded eyes would spill. Mineth leaned in close, close enough to choke her, and whispered so only she could hear.
“How dare you set foot here… It seems I’ve neglected to put you in your place for too long, and you’ve forgotten yourself.”
“I—I’m sorry. I was wrong.”
