CHAPTER 30
Even compared to your royal chambers, Lord Ruberigo’s tower is stunningly luxurious.
Carmen herself confirms the entire fifth floor is reserved for you and your escort. With a smile full of pride, she walks you through it, introducing each room one by one.
The right side of the corridor belongs to you. The left is Cecile’s.
You nod in approval.
“Seems they’re at least trying to be fair.”
Cecile nods too, scanning the gilded walls with her usual stoicism.
Before leaving, Carmen hands you a diamond-shaped magical artifact.
“Shake this if you need anything. Someone will come. We’ll escort you to the banquet later.”
You set it on the desk and glance around the room again, the quiet hum of magic ever-present.
Then comes a knock.
Cecile steps in, bowing.
“Magician Carmen granted us permission to tour the tower. If you’re free, would you like to come with me?”
You arch an eyebrow. “A tour, huh?”
It could be your only chance to see the inner workings of the Tower of Kosaren. You nod. Cecile smiles faintly and holds out a hand.
The two of you step out into the hall.
“But where do we start?” she murmurs, tapping her cheek.
“Did Carmen mention any restricted areas?”
“Yes. The top floor is the Tower Master’s private domain. Entry without permission is forbidden. And…”
“And?”
“She said the seventh floor is off-limits as well.”
You hum in thought.
“Ah. Of course. That person.”
Ruberigo’s precious son.
“That’s where his son is kept.”
“Pardon, Your Highness?”
“Nothing. Go on.”
“The first floor is just a lobby. The second and third are laboratories. The fourth is a training hall.”
The fifth and sixth are your quarters and magical supply storage.
The seventh is forbidden.
Above that? Layers of lethal enchantments that Carmen made very clear should not be tested.
You muse aloud, “If we poke around the labs, they’ll assume we’re here to steal research. Let’s stick to the training hall.”
Cecile lights up. “Good idea.”
She adjusts her stance, eager. Her cheeks are faintly flushed.
“I hear Ruberigo’s mages are powerful. One is said to have the strength of five hundred ogres. Though of course, they pale in comparison to our court mages.”
You give her a flat look.
“What are you really asking?”
“…Would it be acceptable if I sparred with one?”
There it is.
You sigh. “Is bullying our own court mages not enough?”
She looks away.
Cecile—Imperial Knight Commander, the muscle mass of ten grown men, slayer of battlefields—tries to feign innocence.
She mastered all known sword styles by ten.
Reached Aura Master two years later.
A single swing from her blade sends tremors through mountains.
You remind her gently, “You once knocked out three court mages before breakfast.”
Ruberigo’s mages may be strong. But Cecile is a walking battlefield.
“I’m not here to start diplomatic incidents.”
“But… one duel wouldn’t hurt—”
“No rampaging.”
Cecile droops.
She sulks all the way to the training hall.
The moment you enter, all eyes turn toward you.
“…That’s the one who challenged the Tower Master.”
“She wrote the letter herself. With calligraphy. On linen parchment.”
“Estie’s royalty is… bold.”
You’re used to stares, but this is different. Their eyes are sharp—full of curiosity and calculation.
Cecile straightens up, bloodthirsty grin in place.
You catch her arm.
“No.”
She pouts, defeated, and sulks behind you.
You approach a mage who looks marginally less hostile than the others.
“May we observe for a while?”
The mage eyes you warily. “…Sure.”
You find a quiet bench. Cecile leans close, voice low.
“Shall I gouge out their eyes, Your Highness?”
You give her a look.
‘Do I look like I want a massacre?’
Your silence is enough. She huffs and settles beside you.
You watch the mages practice.
A woman forms a glowing blue orb in her palm. She releases it—and it explodes like a thunderclap.
BOOM.
The floor shudders slightly.
The mages continue unfazed, launching spells and counterspells in fluid rhythms.
Impressive. You’ll give them that.
Cecile squirms beside you.
She wants to fight. Badly.
You keep one hand on her forearm.
Then—just as things begin to settle—a voice.
“She’s only here because the Emperor ordered it.”
Another joins in.
“Thrown away by her own blood. How pitiful.”
Your fingers tighten.
Cecile’s expression darkens.
“I’ll kill them.”
“Don’t.”
You stop her with a look.
This isn’t the time. Yet.
The mages chuckle cruelly.
“What did she expect, anyway? Even we heard the rumors. ‘The blemish of Estie.’ Isn’t that what they call her?”
“She must be useless. Unwanted.”
You close your eyes.
A smile touches your lips.
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve broken a nose or two.”
But before you can rise—
SLAM.
A door bursts open.
A girl with vivid navy-blue hair storms in.
“That’s enough!”
She’s maybe your age—maybe younger—but carries herself like a royal.
The mages freeze.
She marches straight toward you.
“The banquet’s started, Your Highness. The Tower Master is waiting.”
“…Already?”
“Yes! Come on!”
She grabs your hand without hesitation.
Cecile blinks. “Wait, who—”
“Let’s go!”
The girl pulls you along.
Cecile follows, muttering under her breath. “I will destroy them all later.”
Once you’re out of earshot, the girl leans in.
“Did something happen?”
You study her.
“…And you are?”
“Asta!”
Bright teal eyes. A toothy grin.
Unfamiliar name. Unfamiliar presence.
‘Why haven’t I heard of her?’
She handled those mages like a general commands troops.
Asta tilts her head. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Just observing.”
She beams. “This way!”
You reach the banquet hall. Its enchanted doors part as you arrive.
She gently shoves you inside. “All yours!”
Then turns to the man seated at the head table.
“I brought her, Tower Master!”
You pause mid-step.
Adix Ruberigo.
He raises an eyebrow—and smiles.
“Well done, Asta.”
She walks up, rests her head briefly on his knee, and vanishes in a flicker of teleportation magic.
Gone.
He turns back to you, expression cold.
“Sit, First Princess.”
You do.
The banquet table is ridiculous: roasted meat, glazed fruit, seafood, soups—all immaculate.
“I didn’t know your tastes,” Adix says. “So I had them prepare everything.”
“How thoughtful.”
“You’re welcome.”
His eyes don’t leave yours.
You stab a shrimp. Chew.
He folds his arms.
“So. Why are you here?”
You look up.
“I know this wasn’t an Imperial order. That duel letter? You wrote it yourself.”
You smile faintly.
“How curious.”
“I’m not in the mood for games.”
“Then let’s skip to a wager.”
He scoffs. “With you?”
“Don’t be so quick to dismiss me. You’ll want to hear this.”
“…I’m listening.”
You lean forward.
“I want your research and partnership with Dolak Taksiden.”
A beat.
His expression turns stormy.
“You must be joking.”
He rises to his feet. Magical pressure slams into you like a wall.
Outside, Cecile screams your name.
The door rattles. She can’t get in.
“You dare speak that name—?”
You meet his fury with calm.
“The Heart of Arteessa.”
CRACK—!
The ground shakes. Silverware flies.
“You insolent brat—!”
You smirk.
“Shall we negotiate now?”
And for the first time in the long, dangerous dance between Kosaren and Estie—
The First Princess and the Tower Master sit across from each other, the battlefield set.
