IWPU 23

Chapter 23

“Tsk, you must’ve acted so pathetically that even your fiancée is reacting this way.”

The Emperor shot a glance at the Crown Prince. The Crown Prince simply kept smiling. The Emperor then turned his gaze to me.

“Bi.”

“Please ask, Your Majesty.”

“You’re sixteen this year, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

At his question, my heart sank. This was the reason the Crown Prince had called me here.

“Your coming-of-age ceremony must be soon.”

“It’s in three months, Father.”

“Three months… It’s time to start preparing, then.”

My mind raced. If things continued like this, it was clear that my coming-of-age ceremony would turn into a wedding with the Crown Prince. The moment the Emperor confirmed it, there would be no turning back. I desperately searched for a way to avoid it.

“Everything is being prepared, right?”

“There are already preparations underway, so all is well. Please do not worry,” the chamberlain answered politely.

Though the engagement between me and the Crown Prince hadn’t been publicly announced yet, everything was already moving behind the scenes.

The Emperor had been discreet in order to avoid provoking the First Prince’s faction. Even I, the bride-to-be, only had a vague idea of how far preparations had come. The fact that I didn’t find out until a month before the wedding says enough about how thoroughly it had been kept under wraps.

The Emperor probably didn’t expect me to know anything. Even if I did, it didn’t matter. I intended to play dumb.

“I apologize, Your Majesty. I do not intend to prepare a coming-of-age ceremony.”

“…What?”

The Emperor snapped his head toward me with a sharp motion. The chamberlain looked equally stunned.

“What do you mean? You won’t prepare one?”

In the Empire, everyone had only one coming-of-age ceremony in their life—at age sixteen. It marked the transition from childhood to adulthood and was celebrated as grandly as one’s means would allow. If even commoners did so, it went without saying for nobles.

For nobles, the ceremony also marked their official debut in high society, a day when they showcased themselves and left strong impressions. The grander and more renowned the event, the easier it was to secure a social footing.

“Why not?”

The Emperor’s reaction was understandable. Refusing the ceremony was tantamount to throwing away the chance to shine most brightly.

“My maternal grandfather passed away less than ten days ago. I can’t possibly prepare a celebration in such a state.”

I lowered my eyes and bowed my head slightly. Even now, thinking of my grandfather left me feeling uneasy. From the Emperor’s point of view, I must have looked like I was about to cry.

The Emperor let out a groan.

“It’s a once-in-a-lifetime event. Please reconsider.”

“No matter how important the day is, how could I throw a party after losing the only grandfather I had in this world? Please understand.”

I dabbed my eyes with a handkerchief, pretending to weep. I still felt downhearted when I thought of my grandfather, but no more tears came. He had passed peacefully, and though his absence was deeply felt, there was no sorrow in the death itself.

The Emperor tried several more times to persuade me, but I only responded with quiet bows. He sighed, clearly frustrated.

The most effective way to secretly hold my wedding with the Crown Prince without alerting the First Prince’s faction was to disguise it as a coming-of-age ceremony. The Emperor had likely planned to use that as a cover. He had indeed tried that route back then—so his sigh now said it all.

The First Prince’s faction opposed our marriage. While they begrudgingly accepted the engagement, they were bound to use any excuse to block the wedding. The Emperor could force it through if he wanted, but there would be a price. He wanted the marriage to go forward quietly.

“Fine, but what about your social debut?”

Not everyone could hold a coming-of-age ceremony. Those with financial difficulties often skipped it. Nobles were no exception. A party required vast sums: decorations, catering, invitations—all cost a fortune. Few nobles could afford that, and those who couldn’t had modest gatherings with just family or close relatives.

Naturally, such events were not suitable for a proper social debut. Those who couldn’t even hold their own ceremony had to rely on royal or noble-hosted events to debut—often sharing the stage with others, which diminished their spotlight. Being overlooked on one’s debut signaled insignificance.

“I apologize, Your Majesty. I am still young and have never hosted a party before.”

“I know that.”

Though I was sixteen this year, my birthday hadn’t passed yet, so I was still legally a minor. While I was effectively the mistress of the House of Eliante, in the eyes of the world, I was merely an un-debuted young noblewoman.

Typically, the lady of the house hosts parties. From the size of the venue to the décor and guest invitations, everything reflects her personality. Hosting such events wasn’t easy. It wasn’t something a young girl could handle.

After the Marchioness of Eliante passed away, the household had no official hostess for years. The Marquess had no interest in such matters. The Emperor, knowing this, nodded in understanding.

“That’s precisely why I’m saying—you must debut in society.”

The Emperor’s eyes gleamed. I could tell what he was thinking. He had now shifted gears: if not a coming-of-age ceremony, then at least a social debut.

“It would be difficult to host a party right away.”

“That’s not a problem! If you allow it, I’ll host your debut party myself.”

“I am honored, Your Majesty. However, I cannot accept it at this time.”

“Why not!”

The Emperor finally lost his patience and raised his voice. He quickly coughed and straightened his posture.

“Still, you must make your social debut.”

He now spoke with the gentle tone one uses when coaxing a child. I once again pretended to wipe tears with my handkerchief.

“I am grateful for your grace, but I am not yet emotionally ready. I will consider it once I’ve had more time to recover.”

We were back to where we started. The Emperor rubbed his temples with his fingers as if he had a headache.

“So when will that be?”

He sounded worn out. His voice lacked its earlier force.

“Next year at the palace…”

“Too late!”

As soon as I spoke, the Emperor yelled again and sprang to his feet.

“Next year?!”

He had clearly expected me to mean my birthday in a few months. But it was only early spring. Naturally, he reacted with disbelief.

I looked up at him with an innocent expression.

“One must make their debut within two years of their coming-of-age ceremony. Next year is still within bounds.”

While the ceremony and debut usually happened together, it wasn’t a rule. Some debuted later, especially if they lacked the means. So long as it was before age 18, the timing was considered acceptable.

“Ugh…”

The Emperor turned red and blue in the face, clearly trying to hold back his frustration at my innocent look.

“Pfft!”

“You! What’s so funny?!”

The Crown Prince laughed, prompting the Emperor to snap at him. But the Crown Prince’s smile didn’t fade.

He stood and bowed to the Emperor.

“I’m sorry, Father. But Bi isn’t wrong, is she?”

“Whose side are you on?!”

“Of course, my fiancée’s.”

The Crown Prince placed both hands on my shoulders. I had to restrain myself from shaking them off in front of the Emperor.

“Isn’t Bi’s devotion to her grandfather touching? Please consider her feelings, Father.”

“You… haah…”

The Emperor let out a long sigh and sank back into his chair. The Crown Prince didn’t let go of my shoulders. The Emperor glared at him, clearly displeased. I couldn’t see the Crown Prince’s expression from where I stood.

“Your Majesty, it is time for your audience with the ministers,” the chamberlain behind him whispered.

The Emperor chuckled weakly.

“This time, I’ll let it go. If that’s your wish, so be it. But… there’s still time. Let’s think about it more.”