Chapter 55
This year’s New Year’s banquet was far more lively than usual—thanks to the news that the Emperor himself would be attending.
Unlike the West, which emphasized decorum and tradition, the East reveled in its signature freedom and shared joy.
After the formal New Year’s greetings concluded, the nobles of the East broke into their own lively groups, enjoying the banquet in noisy, carefree ways. Of course, the main character of the event was the Emperor.
“Your Majesty, your beauty still shines like the sun. I fear I may go blind from it!”
“This is a precious gem from our local mine. Please accept it, Your Majesty…”
Even with the Eastern region’s looseness, the typical noble demeanor hadn’t disappeared.
They still shamelessly tried to curry favor with the Emperor—offering bribes and pouring honeyed words from their tongues.
The Emperor received their flatteries with imperial grace and haughty elegance.
Meanwhile, far from the crowd and noise, a man stood on the terrace of a small room used by the servants as a break room.
Wearing a simple tunic that didn’t suit a banquet, the man quietly stared at the sky. Then, in a calm voice, he spoke.
“Stop hiding. Come out.”
“Oh dear, did I disturb your moment of reflection?”
A second man emerged from the shadows of the break room and stepped onto the terrace.
His crimson-red hair shimmered under the moonlight, and his outfit glittered with gemstones and golden thread. It was none other than Emperor Theorne.
With a warm smile, he approached the man.
“Using a body double again? You’ll get caught eventually.”
“Surely no assassin would be foolish enough to attack the Emperor at a banquet.”
“And yet, haven’t we had a few incidents at court?”
“Touché.”
Despite the other man’s lack of greeting, Theorne didn’t seem offended. He leaned casually against the terrace railing and looked at the man beside him.
“Still, you showed up to the New Year’s banquet. I thought you’d be holed up without budging.”
“My subordinates can handle things without me, but it wouldn’t look good if I skipped a national event.”
“Not because I came to Venice?”
“Is that the answer you want?”
“Hah, no.”
With a light laugh, Theorne glanced back toward the bustling banquet hall.
“Anyway, Venice has stabilized quite a bit. It feels like just yesterday it was being compared unfavorably to Layton.”
“There’s still a long way to go. Plenty of stalled projects remain.”
“But you’ll manage fine. There’s no one left here to get in your way, is there?”
The man didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned against the railing beside the Emperor. Knowing that the man avoided eye contact when confronted with uncomfortable questions, Theorne simply shrugged and changed the subject.
“Spending the year-end in the West, and the New Year in the East… Aren’t I a diligent Emperor?”
“If only you showed that confidence with your paperwork too.”
“Royal documents are so boring. If I hadn’t become Emperor, I’d have been a traveler.”
The man let out a sigh. Everyone knew that Theorne, despite his competence, preferred hands-on inspections to desk work.
“Speaking of the West—I met her.”
“Her?”
“Wilhelmina Layton.”
The man stiffened like he’d turned to ice.
The Emperor, noticing the reaction, hid his smirk and continued.
“She’s quite the woman. Just as you described—bold, capable, calm. None of the Intelligence Department’s reports did her justice.”
“What did you talk about?”
“A very personal conversation.”
At those words, hostility seeped from the man. The chilling aura prickled the air, prompting a low whistle from Theorne.
“Quite the reaction. Are you seeing me as a scoundrel?”
“Theorne. I told you to stay away from her.”
“But things ended well, didn’t they? Let’s not cling to the past.”
The man had never forgotten how the Emperor used Wilhelmina for his schemes.
If Theorne hadn’t pressured Helene, Wilhelmina might be living as a commoner now, not as the Grand Lady. Still, she had undeniably been caught in the Emperor’s plot.
And on top of that, Theorne was a notorious flirt. Publicly, he was known for his celibate lifestyle, but those close to him knew better.
“What did you say to her?”
“Why so curious?”
“Answer me.”
“Fine, let’s make a deal.”
Theorne loved equal exchanges. Whenever someone made a request, he demanded something in return.
“There’s something I want to know about Wilhelmina, too. If you tell me, I’ll explain everything that happened between us.”
“Don’t joke with me…”
“I’ll even tell you the name of the noble who hit on her. How about that?”
“What?”
“Some man approached her saying, ‘Aren’t you lonely all alone?’ or something like that.”
At the word “flirtation,” the man’s rage flared uncontrollably. It was no longer mere hostility—it radiated murderous intent.
“Who was it?”
“That’s what I’m saying. Let’s trade.”
“What do you want to know?”
“How did you first take interest in Wilhelmina? Was there a memorable moment?”
The man frowned in disbelief but saw that the Emperor wasn’t joking. Theorne’s expression was playful, but his eyes burned with genuine curiosity.
“Moments like this make me want to strangle you.”
“Oh? Me too. So, deal or no deal?”
“…Fine. If that’s all you want.”
It wasn’t a memory only he possessed, after all. If it got him the information he wanted, it was a fair trade.
The man nodded, and Theorne’s eyes gleamed like a child hearing a bedtime story.
“You already know we were classmates at Martin Academy, right?”
“Of course.”
“The moment I remembered her name… it was during one of our classes.”
The man lifted his eyes to the clear night sky, reminiscing.
He and Wilhelmina were both alumni of Martin Academy, the prestigious school in the capital attended by noble heirs.
He, with the mighty name of House Venice behind him, had an entirely different background from Wilhelmina, who came from a debt-ridden household.
To the children raised in political environments, she was no better than a commoner.
In such an environment, cliques were inevitable—and where cliques formed, so did bullying.
Children with warped senses of “justice” began tormenting Wilhelmina, declaring her a disgrace to their classroom.
“It started small. Whispered gossip, hiding class schedules… childish stuff.”
So minor that even he hadn’t noticed the growing hostility at the time.
Such bullying was always underhanded and petty.
Some foreign scholar once claimed that innocence and evil cannot coexist—but one year at the academy would prove that theory false.
“But she didn’t waver. Just like you saw her—composed and graceful. Which only made the bullying worse.”
“No reaction made it worse. Sparked their competitiveness, huh?”
“Exactly. The abuse became visible.”
What began as whispers and snubs escalated into physical attacks.
They destroyed her notebooks, erased her name from exam sheets to cost her points, spilled wine on her uniform during meals…
By then, even the other students sensed something was wrong. But no one stepped up. Helping Wilhelmina could make them the next target.
“So what were you doing?”
“…My family had summoned me often. I was rarely at the academy.”
“Ah, during the succession fight. Then I guess you had no choice.”
Theorne nodded, recalling the man’s complicated family affairs.
Had he known back then, he would’ve intervened—awkwardly, perhaps, but he would have.
But the only person who might’ve helped was gone.
So the bullying intensified, until one day, even the faculty could no longer ignore it.
Someone pushed Wilhelmina down the stairs.
“Wow…”
Theorne couldn’t help but let out a stunned exhale.
No matter how similar to a mini-society the academy was, it was shocking that a student had taken such a violent step. It could’ve become a murder case.
“And when she returned to the classroom, her chair had been smashed and thrown in the trash.”
“The culprits…?”
“Of course, the same students who bullied her.”
At the time, the man didn’t even realize it had been her chair. He was simply puzzled—until the classroom door burst open in the middle of class.
Wilhelmina stood there, covered in blood.
