Chapter 191
Chapter 191
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 191
Chapter Title: Salon (3)
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The nobles affiliated with the Elder Council were, in the best light, heirs to time-honored prestigious families who valued dignity and decorum.
In the worst light, they were elitist discriminators steeped in pure-blood supremacy.
Just eavesdrop on the conversation drifting from one nearby table, and you'd see what I mean.
“Do you know the name of the man Marquis Bogart personally invited this time, my lord?”
“I don’t remember exactly, but... Campbell, was it? I heard he’s from some family like that.”
“...A family I’ve never even heard of. Does he hold a title...?”
“A viscount’s house, from what I heard.”
They barely maintained their decorum, but an unmistakable sneer crept across the faces of the conversing men.
The heirs from other prestigious families seated nearby revealed their mockery in their own ways.
Some even bordered on outright contempt.
“A viscount’s house... probably one involved in something like agriculture or mining. The social scene... won’t be familiar to him.”
Someone muttered that.
Of course, his face bore a sly grin that didn’t match the concerned tone of his words.
As if saying a country bumpkin like him had no business here and would soon learn his place.
“Marquis Bogart is too much for inviting someone who doesn’t even know basic etiquette. Hope he doesn’t end up embarrassed. I’m worried.”
“People grow through trials, don’t they?”
One of the men responded smoothly.
The next sentence discarded even that fragile decorum.
“Even as a viscount’s son, he doesn’t know his place and hangs around Her Majesty the Prime Minister, thinking he’s someone special.”
“...Sounds like you’re quite indignant about it?”
“Well, politically speaking, I often think he could never stand beside Her Majesty the Prime Minister... but on a personal level, I admire both of them. They’re the two women upholding the Empire.”
“...Can’t argue with that. Their beauty has reached the realm of nation-toppling allure.”
“Her Majesty is like a single rose blooming on a cliffside, and the Prime Minister always exudes a bold, icy sculpture-like nobility—”
As the topic shifted to the Prime Minister and the Emperor, the grown men gathered like schoolboys gushing over their first crushes, the atmosphere changing in an instant.
It seemed their claim of “admiring” them wasn’t just empty words.
The praise for the two women’s beauty continued unabated.
Until that viscount’s son appeared.
With the two women—who wielded the most potent power any human had ever held in history—on his arms.
“...”
“...”
“...”
The Emperor and the Prime Minister.
Both of them.
Clinging to one man.
As if refusing to let anyone else have him. Asserting their ownership.
“...Your Majesty?”
“...Prime Minister?”
Such voices dropped one by one. Tones laced with disbelief.
Having just rhapsodized about the Emperor and Prime Minister’s beauty and purity, the group was hit hardest.
The Emperor, who always radiated a aloof aura like an expressionless glass doll, now flushed and clung to the man’s arm.
The two women they’d hailed as paragons of overwhelming beauty.
Were competing to press themselves against one man.
As if vying for his favor.
“...”
“...”
As an inexplicable sense of defeat hardened the men’s faces.
“How have you all been, members of the Elder Council?”
In the silence so thick even a dry swallow would thunder, the Emperor’s synthesized voice flowed softly around them.
“I came because my ‘best friend’ is making his social debut for the first time. No need for needless formalities—just enjoy the evening.”
“...”
“...”
Best... what?
The astonishing remark plunged the surroundings back into silence.
For an Emperor of marriageable age to call a man her “bestie” implied far too much.
It was tantamount to publicly declaring him her top “marriage candidate.”
That must have been why the frosty voice interjected.
“...Your Majesty.”
Sullivan, twitching uncontrollably in his cheek, spoke in a voice suppressing something fiercely.
“Please choose your words carefully. I beg you.”
“Is there a problem, Sullivan?”
“This whole situation is the problem.”
Anyone could see he was on high alert.
“I staked my claim first. Isn’t that phrase ripe for misunderstanding?”
Shock rippled outward again.
The Prime Minister too?
Staked her claim?
“...Hmm.”
Hearing that, the Emperor stroked her chin briefly.
“What misunderstanding?”
“...”
“That’s exactly what it means, Sullivan. This man and I are best friends.”
As Sullivan’s face rapidly stiffened.
Pale faces began popping up around them.
One sentence floated in everyone’s minds.
The Emperor and.
The Prime Minister.
Over one man.
‘...A rivalry?’
No doubt about it.
A bombshell that would upend the Empire’s social and political circles.
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“...”
“...”
“...”
The stares flying in without a word were oppressively burdensome.
Dilated pupils, slack jaws—some even slapped their own cheeks, wondering if they were dreaming.
All of them nobles from the Elder Council.
The goal of “intimidation” had exceeded expectations.
The problem was.
“...Do we really have to do it this way?”
I asked the Emperor clinging to my left arm first.
Honestly, cold sweat was beading.
It wasn’t just holding my arm—she was practically dangling from it.
With her head even resting on my shoulder, she looked every bit the lover out on a date.
“Didn’t you suggest it first?”
“...”
“What’s this extent to you? It’s our first ‘command’ to commemorate.”
“...”
It hits me anew.
She seems to enjoy teasing me and watching me squirm.
“...Prime Minister. Even you...”
“No.”
“...”
The instant refusal seals my lips again.
Especially seeing her glaring daggers at the Emperor while answering.
Truth be told, they weren’t like this before we entered.
‘I just aimed for a dignified entrance...’
Originally, I wanted the Emperor and Prime Minister to enter ahead, with me following behind or beside them, positioning myself as just “an acquaintance of both.”
At first, they merely walked side by side with me.
It started with the Emperor lightly taking my hand.
—Your Majesty.
—Something wrong, Sullivan?
—What are you doing?
—My hand’s cold. When you’re not well, you crave human warmth.
—...
Then the Prime Minister followed suit, unwilling to lose, grabbing my hand.
The Emperor upped it to linking arms. The Prime Minister matched.
It escalated from there, until now they’re plastered to me, with no intention of letting go.
This has veered far from my intent.
Dignity or whatever.
This is just.
[A woman-magnet ghost. Even heads of state enchanted.]
‘...Old man.’
[Refute it then.]
‘...’
No retort.
As Kaliban shut me down and I fell silent, murmurs began rising from the surroundings.
“...Demon...”
“...Death row material...”
“...Insane trash... cancer of the nation...”
“...”
What to do.
Just breathing, and enemies multiply one by one.
“On the surface, they’re not entirely wrong.”
The Emperor, aware of the mood, exhaled smoke from her pipe-held cigarette and spoke.
“Soon enough, someone might really try to take you from me.”
“...”
As I stayed quiet, she grinned and continued.
“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you then. That’ll let me fully capture your heart—”
The Emperor cut herself off.
She must have sensed it too—what I was feeling.
This aura pouring from the opposite side.
“...Sullivan. It was a joke. No need to radiate killing intent.”
“Was it a joke, Your Majesty?”
“...”
With no answer, just a grin and more smoke from the pipe, Sullivan’s face crumpled further.
Chaos.
Pure chaos.
Sweat pouring, we walked deeper into the hall.
Toward one exact table.
And inside it.
“As expected of you! I could be your number one fan!”
Amid all this pandemonium.
Marquis Bogart sat applauding, expression unchanged.
“...”
Not even a hint of surprise.
As if he’d expected exactly this.
“But with such distinguished guests present, forgive me, but—”
Bogart’s eyes lingered on the Emperor and Prime Minister, then shifted to me.
As if I mattered more than those two.
“Right now, I have some private talk for just us two. Could you spare a moment?!”
“...”
“...”
At Bogart’s winking words, Sullivan and the Emperor’s faces turned deadly serious.
Trying to calculate his intentions, no doubt.
“...Your Majesty. Prime Minister.”
I stopped them first.
“It’s fine.”
I don’t know why.
But right now, I had to meet this guy alone.
That’s the feeling.
A near-certainty conveyed in the gaze he fixed on me.
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“Wow, you surprised me!”
As we stepped out to the terrace, that burst out first.
“When did you charm those two, Dawood Campbell! Truly terrifying—”
“...What do you want to talk about, Marquis Bogart.”
I cut off his cheerful attempt and got straight to it.
I could feel it now.
I’d heard the Emperor had long taken an interest in me.
But something more nagged.
A strange unease. As if he knew something I didn’t.
“Haha, jumping straight to business without any warmup feels off, doesn’t it? Let’s chat about some trivialities first—”
“...If it’s weird talk, I’ll leave.”
So.
If he doesn’t spit out his true intent, it’s not worth my time.
I turned sharply, heading back inside. My firmest statement.
But.
“...How’s Armin doing?”
That stopped me cold.
“...”
This guy.
What did he just say?
I stared at Bogart, my face rigid.
Only our second meeting, but the perpetual smirk he’d worn vanished.
Replaced by a benevolent smile.
As if recalling fond memories.
“...You.”
But facing that expression sent chills down my spine.
A growl escaped involuntarily.
“Do you know my father?”
“Of course.”
Bogart grinned.
“How could I forget the dearest friend in the world to me.”
That line.
“The rival I competed with over one woman.”
Followed.
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