Chapter 16
The Emperor was a handsome man with a composed appearance. Though middle-aged, only the faint wrinkles around his eyes hinted at his age. His platinum-blond hair shimmered as it fell across his forehead, and his forearms, visible beneath his robes, remained firm and muscular.
Seated on the throne, the Emperor felt less like a man and more like a sculpture of marble—perfectly formed, yet lifeless.
As we approached, that impression only grew stronger.
“It is a night full of imperial grace, Your Majesty,” said Rudolf, bowing.
I bowed beside him in silence. Since I was younger than Rudolf, etiquette dictated I remain quiet during this audience.
“The 5th Prince and the 17th Princess.”
The Emperor responded.
If his words carried any more weight, our shoulders might have collapsed beneath it. That’s how heavy his voice felt.
“Happy 43rd birthday, Your Majesty. May you remain the eternal sun of our Empire.”
Even Rudolf’s clear voice didn’t seem to reach him.
“Very well. Enjoy yourselves.”
That was all.
We bowed deeply once more, then straightened.
Just before we turned to leave, the Emperor—who had been looking only at Rudolf—glanced in my direction. For a brief moment, our eyes met.
His eyes were ash gray.
Were this the gaze of a thousand-year-old statue? I couldn’t read a single thing from them. Just as a marble mirror reflects nothing, I wasn’t sure if he saw me at all.
The Emperor seemed indifferent to everything.
What a peculiar man.
That was my thought as I left his presence.
In the original novel, The 13th Princess, the story centered on the imperial succession struggles of the House of Esperusa. Even so, the Emperor himself appeared very little.
Was it because he had no interest in his children’s fights?
In Esperusa, it’s considered a virtue for the Emperor to remain uninvolved in the succession battles. While history surely holds examples of favoritism, Imelda’s father was firmly neutral.
Perhaps it was because he himself had risen to the throne in such a manner.
That thought suddenly came to me.
Surely Emperor Lucius had once been a prince, too. The former Emperor had six children—none survived except the current ruler.
He was the victor of the same war we now faced. But unlike the peaceful heroine of the original novel, he had won through bloodshed.
Thinking that made the back of my neck prickle. I resisted the urge to glance back at him one last time.
Once the audience ended, people eagerly gathered around us.
“It is a night filled with imperial grace, Prince and Princess.”
A middle-aged man in lavish attire was the first to greet us. Rudolf responded graciously and began light conversation.
“It’s been a while, Marquess Millen. How was your trip to Delpoa?”
“Terrible, Your Highness. It was unusually cold this spring. I expected blooming flowers but was met with frost. We returned to the capital in less than a month.”
“The children must have been disappointed.”
The Marquess made a fuss, thanking Rudolf for his concern, then turned to me.
“So this is the famous 17th Princess. A pleasure to meet you. I am Marquess Pierre Millen.”
“Nice to meet you, Marquess.”
I had a few more polite phrases in mind, but I said no more.
No matter what I did, I stood out. If I did well, they’d talk. If I did poorly, they’d talk. So, I figured I’d avoid giving them anything to gossip about altogether.
Tonight, I would simply smile sweetly beside Rudolf like a doll.
The Marquess stepped back, slightly disappointed. Immediately, someone else stepped in to greet us.
“It’s been so long, Prince Rudolf. You’ve grown into such a fine man.”
“To be graced by both the 5th Prince and the 17th Princess on this radiant night—my heart trembles!”
“Hello, Prince! And is this the famous 17th Princess beside you?”
“Glorious night to you both. As for me, I…”
Men and women of all ages, in all manners of dress, continued to greet me. I gave brief replies, and Rudolf followed with light conversation.
So this is the social scene.
In romance novels, social parties were dazzling battlefields. Nobles laughed and chatted, spreading rumors and trading information. Villains tried to humiliate the heroine only to be embarrassed themselves.
That portrayal wasn’t far off… but as I exchanged my umpteenth greeting, another thought struck me.
Why had no one mentioned how exhausting this was?
All I had to do was smile and respond to people who greeted me. That was it—and yet, the longer I did it, the more my energy drained.
Standing still in one spot was already tiring, but having to smile at everyone and repeat greetings like a parrot made my head spin.
Memories of doing part-time work during elections—greeting people robotically in front of subways—flashed through my mind.
At least back then, I was a spry 20-year-old. Now, I was a 12-year-old who hadn’t even hit puberty!
Thankfully, my shoes were comfortable. If Rudolf hadn’t cast a spell on them, my feet would’ve been swollen by now.
“Your Highness, the Princess’s beauty is blinding. If she’s this lovely now, she’ll surely capture many young hearts as she grows.”
“Thank you, Baron.”
The number of people who approached us just to leave a good impression was overwhelming. Most of what they said wasn’t worth hearing, but—
“I hear the Temple of Radiance is choosing a new High Priest soon. Any thoughts on how it’ll go?”
“Lumber prices have skyrocketed. Maybe the capital’s nobles don’t care, but for us, it’s a life-or-death issue for our people.”
“Did you hear about the pirates in Molt? They’re abducting ships, and if you can’t pay ransom, they cut off ears—of adults and children alike. Oh! My apologies, Princess. That was inappropriate of me…”
Some things were worth listening to.
Like the unusually cold spring, or the viscount family who committed suicide over gambling debts, or the scandal of the capital’s most popular actor being secretly married…
I pretended not to care but made sure to memorize it all.
The more information, the better—especially when I had no clear future plans. Who knows what I might use later? So I made a point to remember everything.
This was my first time in such a setting, but it wasn’t like I couldn’t understand the flow of conversation.
Some whispered names and places that even appeared in the original novel. Listening closely, I could somewhat guess why and how events three years later would unfold.
Just as I was starting to enjoy picking out useful info from the torrent of chatter—
“Oh my.”
The people around us suddenly turned toward something and began murmuring nervously.
“Is he coming this way?”
“No way. Aren’t they known to not get along?”
“Haven’t you heard the rumors? Princess Lucilia—”
“Shh! He’s coming!”
People began backing away from us.
I turned my head in the direction of their gaze.
Richard was walking toward us, with his knight-secretary Luke Syton trailing behind.
Now I understood everyone’s tension and hesitation.
It was well-known that Rudolf and Richard were rivals. Richard, with his fiery temper, often turned small issues into major confrontations.
No one wanted to get caught in the crossfire.
I, too, felt nervous. Who knew how Richard would react?
The last time we met was the day I received Rudolf’s birthday invitation. That day, Richard got mad at me, and I’d told him to just kill me if he had a problem.
I also called him and Rudolf the same kind of people…
In the weeks since, had Richard decided I was his enemy? Or did he still think my life belonged to him?
There was only one way to find out—face him directly.
I almost sighed but stopped myself.
And once again repeated the mantra I’d clung to all night:
‘I’m twelve. I’m an innocent, wide-eyed twelve-year-old…’
If only I’d had a drink.
With that thought, I raised my voice brightly.
“Brother Richard!”
Every eye turned to me.
The taut tension shattered instantly, replaced by a mix of reactions—shock, confusion, curiosity—all conveyed without words.
Feeling the storm of emotion around me, I ran toward Richard.
Even from afar, I could tell he was surprised.
“You’re so late! I was wondering when you’d arrive!”
I grabbed his hand as I reached him. Looking up at him, I prepared to flash my most innocent sisterly smile.
“You…”
But when I saw his face, I burst into laughter.
His expression was priceless. Furious at Rudolf just a moment ago, now caught off guard by my approach, Richard didn’t even shake off my hand.
He kept scanning me in disbelief—probably stunned by my dress. After all, I’d looked like a beggar when we first met.
His face was a wild swirl of emotions that couldn’t be summed up in one word.
Still smiling, I told him,
“You look amazing today, Brother!”
And I meant it.
Unlike Rudolf, who looked like a priest draped in white, Richard screamed “I’m a prince!” with his outfit.
His black garments were embroidered in gold thread, with ruby-studded lapels. His cloak, to ward off the cold, was a vivid red—just like his eyes.
It was almost too flashy, but his overwhelmingly beautiful face made it work.
He’d be perfect on the cover of a romance novel as a tyrant prince. Truly, his looks were unmatched.
“Hah.”
Richard gave a dry laugh. Then he crouched slightly to meet my eye level.
As soon as I saw his face, I was certain.
Richard didn’t see me as an enemy. His crimson eyes held not anger, but concern.
Realizing that, I felt relieved. A bit bashful too—after all, we had parted on bad terms, but he was still worried about me.
Richard looked at me silently for a while, then finally met my gaze. I met his, feeling a bit conflicted.
The corners of his eyes lifted slightly.
“You look beautiful too. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
