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Chapter 52
The Imperial Palace was bustling with nobles who had gathered to celebrate the Emperor’s birthday.
Chests of gold and silver treasures piled like mountains, alongside ornate handicrafts, were being carried in by servants. Crystal bottles on silver trays sparkled, and crimson jewelry boxes glowed brilliantly.
“The eldest son of the Marquisate of Friedrich, Derrick Friedrich, and the second son, Richard Friedrich, are entering!”
As they stepped into the banquet hall, opulent decorations adorned the entire space under the pouring light of golden chandeliers. Flowers and silks were spread everywhere as if to bless the Emperor’s birth.
‘…Come to think of it.’
Ӗ.n̄ u ṁ â
Richard stepped into the hall, feeling the gazes pouring toward him more intensely than usual.
‘It’s been a while.’
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It had been a long time since he attended such a public event. He had been moving busily for a while, traveling to the North and infiltrating slave markets.
“It seems we haven’t seen you in some time, Young Master Friedrich.”
Three or four noble ladies approached Richard.
“Yes, it has been a while, Ladies.”
Ŵе̇ b̀ǹо v́ӗ l̀ Ẽń u m а
Richard smiled brightly and gave them a light nod. The lady at the front lowered her eyebrows slightly as if worried.
“You haven’t been seen for a while; I wondered if something might have happened?”
“That’s right. We were concerned,” another lady added, picking up from her friend. “We wondered if… perhaps you finally felt embarrassed by the scenes you’ve caused in the past….”
Clear mockery peeked through her words of concern.
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“…….”
Richard didn't even blink; he continued to look at them with a smiling face.
Ёn̈ŭm̂ ä
“I am—”
It was the moment he opened his mouth to speak.
“How utterly impertinent.”
Enoch, who had been standing a step behind, stepped forward with his face heavily scowling.
“Do the nobles of the Empire usually lack such basic etiquette?”
“……? Who are you to—”
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The ladies furrowed their brows.
“Enoch de Eloise.”
Enoch laughed as if they were pathetic and crossed his arms.
“I’m sure you’ve heard the name at least once.”
“…….”
The ladies, looking slightly flustered, exchanged glances.
En ûṁ а̌
“……Eloise?”
“Does he mean royalty?”
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As the atmosphere took an ominous turn, other nobles also began to glance over and whisper.
“If it’s Enoch de Eloise, isn't that the 4th Prince of the Kingdom of Eloise?”
“Why is such a person here without an invitation, acting like Young Master Friedrich’s servant?”
“No, more than that, I heard that Prince had gone missing….”
E ñ u mа . і d
It was just as the banquet hall was becoming increasingly rowdy.
“…Excuse me, Young Master Friedrich.”
A servant who had quietly approached Richard’s side spoke cautiously.
“His Imperial Majesty is calling for you.”
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“…….”
Richard slowly lifted his gaze.
Ŵ е b n ӧ v̈ е̃ l Е n̈ ū m а̌
A staircase covered in red carpet. At the top, the seat prepared for the Emperor. The Emperor, leaning back on his throne with a strange smile hanging from his lips, was looking down at him.
“Regrettably, it seems I must go and greet His Majesty.”
Richard smiled softly, moving between Enoch and the noble ladies.
“Let us speak again next time.”
He followed the servant.
“……Tsk.”
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He heard the sound of the ladies clicking their tongues behind him.
Richard followed the servant up the red-carpeted stairs. Standing before the Emperor, he offered a respectful greeting.
“Richard Friedrich, the second son of the Marquisate of Friedrich, greets the Emperor.”
“Enough with the formalities.”
The Emperor shook his head as if he’d had enough. Dismissing the servant, he got straight to the point.
“Have you prepared the gift to present to me?”
Е̃ n̊umа. і̊ d̂
The Emperor’s gaze grew even sharper.
The banquet hall was noisy with nobles gathered in small groups chatting. Their conversation would be buried under those voices. Richard closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them slowly as he lifted his head.
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“Would I ever come empty-handed?”
“……Ha.”
A faint smile leaked from the Emperor’s lips.
“……So, you truly brought it.”
Е̇ ǹ ǔ_m а .і̃d̃
His voice was trembling, as if it didn't feel real.
“That is correct.”
“Come to my side.”
The Emperor motioned for Richard to approach.
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“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Richard stepped beside the throne as commanded.
W̃ е̊ḃn̆ о́ v̈е.l̈ Е_n.um a
“……How did you find the body?” the Emperor asked in a low voice.
“…….”
Richard looked down at the crowded banquet hall and replied without any change in expression.
“…Is that truly what matters?”
His gaze caught on one figure.
“What matters is…….”
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Vilmar Chesica.
Richard’s brow furrowed slightly.
“…That I found it, one way or another.”
“…….”
A brief silence hovered.
“…I suppose that’s true.”
Е̄ n̈ ūm a.і̇ d̄
The Emperor let Richard’s vague answer pass.
“……Your Majesty.”
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Richard’s gaze was still fixed on Vilmar Chesica.
“In a short while, when I present the gift and you reclaim the body…….”
“…….”
“…What do you intend to do with the Duke?”
W_еḃn о̀.v̈ĕ l Е̌ṅ um̄а
“…….”
The Emperor was silent for a moment. Richard glanced back at him.
“…I must kill him.”
The Emperor’s red eyes settled coldly. As if restraining a murderous intent built up over a long time; as if suppressing the urge to kill him right here, right now.
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“…….”
…Right. I knew it would be like this. Richard’s brow narrowed. The moment he reclaimed the body, the Emperor would kill the Duke.
Ẁе.b nо̄_v еl̈ Ёnùm ӓ
‘The Duke must know this as well….’
What exactly was he thinking? Again, doubt flashed deep in his mind.
‘……No.’
It was none of his business. Closing his eyes, Richard tried to shake off the idle thoughts.
“…That man…….”
The Emperor spoke in a monotone voice. It was as if he was forcibly suppressing a voice trembling with bloodlust.
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“Was originally my friend.”
“…….”
‘…Ah.’
It was a story Richard knew. He had heard it from the Emperor himself during the previous regression.
The Emperor and the Duke were originally friends. Though their political interests didn't align, the two were close, sharing meals and spending time together every day.
“However….”
Wӗ b̌n̊ о v̊ е̄ l Е ñu̇ḿа̇
The end of his voice shook slightly, as if suppressing a surging murderous intent.
“That man betrayed me.”
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***
Vilmar Chesica.
The illegitimate son of the Duke of Chesica.
Laios knew that Vilmar disliked him. How could he not know?
Еn̈ u mа̂
‘Vilmar Chesica of the Duke of Chesica greets the Crown Prince.’
The cold gaze felt every time they passed each other, and the hatred buried within that tone.
‘Slavery is necessary.’
‘No. Slavery brings neither stability nor prosperity to anyone.’
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Even their clashing opinions at every turn. Laios had no choice but to notice that Vilmar disliked him.
No.
Е_n̊ um а̀ .іd́
‘If I were him, I would hate me too.’
He couldn't help but understand. Laios had heard about the man’s background. Born as an illegitimate son of the Chesica family, he had struggled and fought to barely earn the position of successor.
In his eyes….
‘I couldn't possibly look good.’
He must loathe me, born as the legitimate son of the Imperial Family, becoming the Crown Prince so easily without any major trials.
However.
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Even so.
‘I want to become close with him….’
Watching Vilmar Chesica from a distance, Laios always thought.
He liked Vilmar. The realistic and cold-headed leader of the Noble Faction. Unlike himself, who chased ideals, Vilmar spoke of profit and saw reality. He absolutely needed someone like this by his side to lead the Empire brilliantly in the future.
‘Is there no way to become friends….’
Laios desperately wanted to be close to Vilmar.
Е̌n̈ ǔ m а̌
But, contrary to his wish, things kept getting tangled.
‘I like you, Your Highness.’
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One day, a woman approached him. Ellica Lowen. Claiming to have fallen for Laios, she made aggressive advances toward him.
The only problem was that she was the former fiancée of Vilmar Chesica, who had recently broken off their engagement. If things went well with her, Vilmar Chesica would…….
‘Your Highness, you will come to want me too.’
With a bold smile, she slipped a petal ring she had woven herself onto Laios’s ring finger. Her golden hair shining brilliantly in the sunlight. Her cheeks flushed rose.
Е ṅ ū m̊å . іd̀
Seeing her smiling so purely,
‘…….’
Laios couldn't help but fall for her.
But….
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‘I shouldn't do this.’
He fell into deep contemplation. She was Vilmar’s former fiancée. Laios, who wanted to become close to Vilmar no matter what, conflicted with himself over and over.
Ē n u̇ m̄ a . і̊_d̆
And finally, what he chose was….
‘Are you alright, Young Lord?’
On that day when the rain was exceptionally heavy. After the meeting ended, he reached out to Vilmar, who looked distressed, crouching in a corner of the Imperial Palace.
‘I heard you broke off your engagement with Lady Lowen recently.’
‘…….’
‘If you wish, I will not marry her. I want to be close to you.’
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‘…Ha?’
‘I’ll be honest.’
Getting soaked in the rain, Laios smiled brightly at Vilmar.
‘I want to be your friend.’
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