Banquet (5)
The affairs of the world do not bend to one's own will—I knew that all too well. No, there was no way I couldn't know. After all, my transmigration into this novel had happened without a shred of my consent.
Yet even so—
"You may raise your head."
……I never imagined things would stray this far from my intentions. Not even in my wildest dreams.
The situation had unfolded mere minutes ago.
"……Then I suppose I should begin my preparations."
"Where are you going?"
I looked up at Achillea as she rose from her seat, my gaze silently pleading, Don't leave me here alone. She smiled in amusement and extended a long, pale hand toward me.
"I must prepare as well. The mood has ripened nicely."
"……Ah."
At her words, I let out a dazed sound as realization dawned. Achillea chuckled softly, gave a small wave, and turned to leave. She was likely heading off to change into something more suitable for dancing—her current gown, though beautiful, was ill-suited for the occasion.
"I shall see you shortly."
I watched her retreating figure until she disappeared, then exhaled a long breath and turned my attention back to the banquet hall. Dancing at a ball, of all things—how had my fate led me here? I pressed a hand to my forehead, rifling through Felice's memories for the steps of the dance, when I sensed someone approaching from behind. I lifted my head.
"Felice van Astria, I presume?"
"……That is correct."
The man standing behind me was a knight. Not just any knight, either—one clad in resplendent golden armor that marked him as anything but ordinary.
He's skilled.
From his perfectly disciplined posture to the quiet pride that refused to bow, everything about him spoke of strength. The aura he exuded, subtle yet unmistakable, confirmed he was no ordinary warrior.
As I studied him calmly, my eyes caught the emblem emblazoned on his breastplate, and I couldn't help but furrow my brow and bite my lower lip. A golden lion within a shield, crossed behind by two swords in an X. I recognized it instantly.
"Someone wishes to see you. Please spare a moment of your time."
It was not a request. It was an order to follow.
Any noble would have found the tone offensive, yet any noble would also have recognized at once where this man belonged.
The Imperial Knights……
The Emperor's personal order. And one of their number had come to fetch me.
Two possibilities flashed through my mind.
The Second Prince, or the Emperor.
No—there was only one real possibility. The Second Prince, who had not even attended the banquet and had yet to claim the title of Crown Prince, could never command the Imperial Knights as his own. That meant the one who had sent them to find me was—
……The Emperor.
The simple conclusion made my head spin. It wasn't the aftereffects of the wine. It was the sheer shock of an encounter I had never anticipated—and the realization that I could not refuse it.
"……I will obey."
Unable to keep the Imperial Knight waiting, I rose and answered with proper courtesy.
"Follow me."
The knight gave a curt nod and led the way. Roughly thirty minutes remained before Achillea would return, so there was no time to waste. The timing of their arrival—while she was away changing—made their intent clear: they wished for my meeting with the Emperor to remain hidden from her.
I followed the knight up two flights of stairs higher than the area where Achillea had been. A faint hope that it might not be the Emperor after all crumbled inside me. I steadied my thoughts.
Why would the Emperor want to see me?
The original novel had never described the Emperor's personality or appearance in detail. With nothing to go on, I could only follow the knight in growing tension, unable to guess his intentions.
Two more knights in identical armor stood guard before the door to a room even higher than Achillea's. The knight escorting me appeared to outrank them; he offered a brief salute, approached the door, and knocked carefully.
Knock. Knock.
"……Your Majesty. I have brought the person you requested."
Before the Emperor, no one could speak their own name. Any attempt to assert one's own power would be laughable.
"You may enter."
A low, quiet voice answered the knight. It was not the Emperor's. Still, my escort nodded silently and stepped aside. The two guards opened the door without a sound—surprisingly large though it was, it moved in perfect silence.
"Please go in."
"……Understood."
I swallowed dryly and stepped forward, recalling the proper etiquette from Felice's memories. The door had opened so soundlessly that even my footsteps felt unnaturally quiet.
The moment I crossed the threshold, I felt an invisible barrier settle over me.
……Soundproofing magic.
I recognized it instinctively and tried not to dwell on it as I moved deeper into the room. Seated in an ornate chair overlooking the banquet hall was a single figure, his back to me. Beside him stood an elderly man who turned to regard me.
I knew at once that the seated man was the Emperor. I dropped to one knee a few steps away and bowed my head. I must not speak first. That was imperial protocol.
As I maintained my posture, the elderly man glanced at me, then addressed the Emperor.
"Your Majesty, Felice van Astria has arrived."
"……I am aware."
The Emperor's deep, heavy voice filled the room. I bowed even lower.
"O Sun of the Empire, most exalted and supreme. Great one who bestows blessings upon the radiant future of this glorious Empire, it is the honor of my house to stand before you. Felice, second son of the Count of Astria, has come at Your Majesty's command."
After delivering the lengthy, formal greeting, silence settled over the room. I wondered if I had erred, but according to my memories the etiquette was correct. Cold sweat trickled down my back as I waited in stillness.
A soft scraping sound reached my ears—the chair turning. I pressed my forehead even closer to the floor as the Emperor's voice followed.
"You may raise your head."
Even at the command, I did not lift it.
"It would be an honor beyond my station, Your Majesty."
Refusing once was proper etiquette. The sheer complexity of these rules made my head ache, yet my body moved through them with surprising familiarity. I exhaled inwardly in relief.
Once more, the Emperor spoke.
"I permit it. Raise your head."
"……Your grace is boundless."
Expressing gratitude for even this simple order, I lifted my head and met a pair of clear blue eyes.
His hair was white with age, yet it shone as brilliantly as Achillea's. His blue eyes remained sharp, untouched by time. Though wrinkles had begun to appear on his skin, his noble bearing revealed exactly where Achillea's beauty had come from. He looked down at me with the dignified air of a man who must once have captured the hearts of countless maidens.
"It is good to see you, Felice van Astria."
"……."
I remained silent.
"Do you know why I have summoned you?"
"I am deeply sorry, but I have no idea."
The Emperor's every word and gesture carried an intangible weight that made it clear the throne had not been won by chance. I bowed my head as I answered. He nodded, as though my ignorance was only natural, and continued.
"I do not care for beating around the bush. Therefore, I will speak plainly."
"……."
The Emperor of the Empire did not ask permission of others. Knowing this, I offered no reply and simply bowed deeper, signaling my readiness to receive his words.
"You, Felice van Astria—"
"……."
"What is your relationship with Achillea, the Imperial Princess?"
"………."
For a split second, I nearly blurted out, Neng? I clenched my teeth, swallowing the reflexive question, and raised my head. Those unwavering blue eyes were still fixed on me.
"No—what I wish to know is this."
"……."
"With what intention did you approach our Achillea?"
The moment I heard those words, I couldn't help but swallow again.
This……
If I answered wrong, I was dead.