Chapter 04 …
“Hoho, well now, this is rather sudden….”
The duke took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his forehead. I glanced at my reflection in the carriage window and straightened my outfit.
‘The gossipmongers’ chatter is inevitable, but at least I look the part.’
The carriage door opened, and the duke extended his hand to me.
This was my true debut.
◇ ◆ ◇
“You never fail to surprise me.”
As I descended from the carriage gracefully with the duke’s escort, Duke Trapiche expressed his admiration. He must have worried that I would tremble uncontrollably from nerves. It was a reasonable concern—because in my previous life, that’s exactly what happened.
“I learned from Countess Elza.”
Of course, in this life, all Countess Elza had actually taught me was the etiquette for curtseying. But I intended to use her as my excuse to adapt quickly to life in the capital.
With the escort of the knights, I stepped onto the red carpet. On the high terrace stood Henry II, Crown Prince Gropius, Princess Theresia, and the Second Prince Lloyd. Dressed in formal uniforms usually reserved for birthdays, they looked like gods from mythology—beautiful, but somehow comical.
They must have been that desperate. Desperate enough to long for even the faint halo of Perrian, who had been laid to rest in a coffin over a decade ago.
“Blessings of Abel. Albert of Trapiche greets the Sun of the Empire.”
“Evelyn of Perrian greets the Sun of the Empire.”
Henry II gave no response. In my previous life, I had expected him to rush forward and embrace me warmly like a doting father—but he didn’t. With the Emperor silent, the duke and I could only remain bowed.
“Blessings of Abel.”
After some time, a solemn voice descended from above. As the Cardinal bowed and handed him a scroll, Henry II unrolled it.
“In Imperial Year 388, the title of Perrian, once stripped by the previous Emperor, is hereby restored. The only legitimate daughter shall be ennobled as Viscountess and fulfill her duty as a subject of Caledonia.”
I lowered my gaze to hide my agitation. In my second life, Henry II had never granted me a title.
A title…
The difference between surviving in noble society as a titleless “lady” and entering it as the Viscountess of Perrian was like heaven and earth.
Surprisingly, the conferral ceremony was brief, especially for such a grand event. Henry II said nothing more and departed.
For the restoration of a loyal house that gave its life, this is rather dry.
Despite the strange tension radiating from Henry II, the crowd erupted in cheers. Duke Trapiche had been right—the people loved the House of Perrian, who had never shied from standing at the frontlines of war.
And one more thing: Henry II was no mere greedy fool. He knew how to appear benevolent toward a ragged child and how to assert his authority by making the heir of a prestigious house bow before the imperial family. The people might be cheering for a descendant of Perrian, but the true star of this play was Henry II.
As I turned to return to the carriage, a page blocked my way.
“His Majesty commands you be escorted to the gallery.”
“I shall accompany her,” said Duke Trapiche.
The page looked troubled, but the duke replied smoothly,
“She is but a child. I worry she might accidentally commit some rudeness before His Majesty.”
Reluctantly, the page led the way.
The gallery was a room displaying portraits of past emperors, located past the East Palace and furthest from the banquet hall.
The imperial palace was divided into East and West. The East Palace housed the emperor’s office, audience chamber, royal quarters, and the splendid banquet hall. The smaller West Palace contained guest rooms. In my previous life, I had spent six years living there like an oblivious guest who overstayed her welcome.
Walking through the long corridors I had traversed thousands of times before made my mood sink further.
“If the question is difficult, you don’t need to answer,” the duke whispered gently, as if sensing my fear.
Then, from the opposite end of the corridor, footsteps approached. A small figure was walking toward us. Slowly, the sound grew nearer.
Hair like spun platinum, each strand gleaming with light. Sun-kissed bronze skin and vivid blue eyes.
Lloyd!
Walking with a straight back and measured pace was the Second Prince, Fray von der Lloyd. He had inherited the beauty of his mother, Empress Anais, once a princess of the Kingdom of Gaia. His darker skin, so unlike the other royals, radiated vitality, while the blue eyes inherited from Henry II exuded elegance.
In my second life, I chased Lloyd endlessly…
The page stopped and bowed, and Duke Trapiche followed suit.
“Blessings of Abel. I greet the Light of the Empire.”
“Blessings of Abel…”
As I was about to greet him as well, Lloyd suddenly leaned toward me.
“Your Highness…!”
The duke exclaimed in surprise. The Second Prince’s behavior was completely unlike his reputation for composure and courtesy. I raised my head and met Lloyd’s gaze—he was staring intently at me.
Why that expression…
Sunlight caught on his nearly white-gold eyelashes. His face was strange—sad eyes, but angry features.
“You’re so small… and thin.”
The beautiful boy’s hoarse voice sounded as if he were holding back his emotions.
“His Majesty has summoned the Viscountess of Perrian,” said the page.
“His Majesty?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Only then did Lloyd step back. In a whisper meant only for me, he added,
“Be careful. His Majesty does not like children who think too much.”
I spun around, but Lloyd was already walking away with his usual erect posture.
“Are you all right? His Highness the Second Prince is a generous person, so there’s no need to be nervous,” Duke Trapiche said to me as I fell behind. I nodded quickly and caught up.
Why would the Emperor summon me away from the nobles’ eyes?
In my previous life, Henry II had tried to make me Lloyd’s betrothed. But the Empress fiercely opposed it, and afterward, the Emperor seemed to lose interest; despite my debutante ball, I became the only noble young lady left without a fiancé.
This time, I shouldn’t expect to marry Lloyd and escape the palace.
I forced myself to erase his blue eyes from my mind.
At the end of the massive gallery stood Henry II, gazing at a portrait hanging on the wall. The sound of our footsteps echoed softly in the vast space.
“Blessings of Abel. We greet the Sun of the Empire.”
“Blessings of Abel. We greet the Sun of the Empire.”
“The duke seems quite busy,” Henry II remarked dryly, still looking at the portrait. He was mocking the presence of an uninvited guest, but the duke bowed politely and answered,
“She is but a child unfamiliar with courtly ways, Your Majesty.”
“The Viscountess of Perrian must feel reassured,” Henry II said, turning his gaze to me.
“No place in the palace is without its stories. But this, in particular, displays the history of House Fray. Do you know whose portrait that is?”
The woman with cascading golden hair gazed into the distance. She was Cecilia, Henry II’s first wife, whom he had married while still a Grand Duke.
There were many rumors surrounding Empress Cecilia’s death. It was said throughout the empire that Henry II had poisoned his own consort to bring down the Wales family, leaders of the aristocratic faction.
I slowly shook my head. Henry II continued,
“She was Cecilia von der Fray, consort of the 56th Emperor of Caledonia. When I die, my portrait will hang beside hers.”
Turning toward the sunlit window as though following Cecilia’s gaze, he added,
“To be immortalized in imperial history with one’s beloved—isn’t it beautiful?”
Beloved? That was a word ill-suited to Henry II, who had married into the Wales family purely for political power.
Taking a few steps toward the window, Henry II suddenly turned and fixed his eyes on me.
“I… want you to be remembered in the history of the empire as well.”
It wasn’t me who reacted first—it was the duke.
“Your Majesty!” Duke Trapiche cried out. I clenched my fists to hide their trembling.
“I wish for your portrait to hang here,” Henry II said slowly, each syllable deliberate.
“So that I might have the face of a dear friend to meet in the afterlife.”
The duke let out a faint groan.
It was a good thing I was bowing; otherwise, they would have seen how pale my face had become. My palms were damp with sweat as I forced out a calm, innocent voice.
“I am too foolish to fully grasp Your Majesty’s meaning.”
Henry II’s laughter boomed through the gallery, echoing for a long time.
In other words, he had just declared his intention to make me the consort of the next Emperor.
Horrifyingly so.
