Chapter 510: Jealousy is My Power (10)
Chapter 510: Jealousy is My Power (10)
Rights carry with them obligations.
Regardless of time or place, few could escape this truth. When the balance between rights and duties begins to tilt, the sparks of revolution are inevitably ignited.
Thus, the privileged classes of a stable society do not hesitate to impose responsibilities upon themselves.
Even if, at the very least, those responsibilities are nothing more than a facade.
The Imperial Family of the Empire was no exception.
From this perspective, Cien, the 5th Princess, could be considered a model royal.
Her entire life had been nothing less than a tightrope walk between rights and duties.
By nature, the title of 'Princess' was a status that drew the world's attention through its mere existence. Furthermore, her innate beauty and the special power known as the 'Dragon's Eye' had forced Cien to taste enlightenment at an early age.
She was a girl who had been loved for the sole reason that she carried the blood of a dragon. Yet, once it became known that she could peer into the hearts of others, the countless gazes of loathing directed her way were enough to sicken the heart of a child not even ten years old.
It was then that the girl realized a truth.
Affection and hatred were like two sides of the same coin, easily flipped at any moment.
Even her noble birth as a member of the 'Imperial Family' was the same. In her childhood, she could live without a care, enjoying every luxury and splendor, but what would happen once the struggle for the next succession began in earnest?
It would be a tightrope walk between life and death.
And so, the girl grew hardened.
She did not hesitate to exploit the hearts and desires of others, and even if she didn't aim for the throne herself, she exerted every effort to become a useful piece on the board.
For years, she built her own faction, drawing the eyes of those vying for the succession.
Having entered the Academy carrying the expectations and wariness of everyone on her shoulders, Cien had changed far too much in just a single year.
"…Cien, what is this?"
Standing before Cien was a beautiful woman with silver-blue hair.
Her delicate skin spoke of a sickly past. The skin of this woman, who had survived several brushes with death in her youth, was so white it was nearly translucent—to the point that in the midday sun, she looked like a denizen from another world.
However, passing through a frail childhood did not mean her temperament had become frail as well.
On the contrary, her sharp eyes, haughty gestures, and cold complexion hinted that she was by no means a person to be trifled with.
Indeed, how else could she have survived the thin ice of political strife?
The woman was one of the heirs to the throne, rumored to be the closest to the next crown.
The 2nd Princess of the Empire, Iris.
She was also one of the two people Cien feared most.
However, there was another reason why Cien’s body was trembling so uncontrollably.
"Sister. That, well, you see…"
The sound of Cien gulping nervously echoed in the room.
At the end of Iris’s disdainful gaze sat a doll that Cien had been busy tinkering with.
It was a doll modeled after the girl’s unrequited love.
It had started as a mere hobby, but as an unexpected number of people began seeking them out, Cien had eventually become immersed in this secret creative activity. She had frequently spent money to commission skilled master tailors for the base work.
And Cien had one rule.
She would handle the finishing touches herself.
Cien had been Ian’s companion, and her powers of observation and manual dexterity were on a level far beyond that of an ordinary person. These talents allowed her to bring out a charm in the dolls that others couldn't see.
She had been in the middle of finishing another one today.
It was bad luck. Of all people to be caught by, it had to be Iris.
Behind Iris stood Irene, looking just as hesitant and flustered as her master. Naturally, there was no way a mere guard knight could stop a powerful heir to the throne, but Cien couldn't help feeling a sense of resentment.
Sir Irene, you’re useless!
Blaming her subordinate internally, Cien thought of a final resort to escape this situation.
"…Hehe."
The girl tilted her head with a foolish, harmless smile.
However, Iris’s expression remained cold as she looked at her pathetic, "harmless" younger sister. In fact, she went beyond coldness, pressing a hand to her forehead and groaning as if she were developing a headache.
A sigh of lamentation escaped Iris’s lips.
"How did you end up like this, Cien… You were once so brilliant and ambitious, yet now you’re no different from any other girl, holed up in your room playing with dolls."
Cien’s spirit wilted at Iris’s blunt criticism.
Looking back, there really had been many changes. In the past, Iris had been wary of Cien, yet she hadn't been able to hide a subtle sense of expectation.
Was Iris not a woman who would come second to none in terms of being dark and calculating?
Perhaps she had found her younger sister, who shared her temperament, particularly endearing.
But to see her now, after only a year, acting no different from any other girl her age.
It was only natural for Iris to feel contempt, let alone disappointment.
Iris couldn't hide her look of utter patheticness until the very end.
The only saving grace was that Iris was not a person who moved without reason.
If Iris had come all the way to the Academy, she must have business.
And Iris was not one to enjoy wasting time.
"…Follow me."
It was an order thrown out without any explanation.
Cien could only tilt her head with a bewildered expression.
"Pardon?"
"I told you to follow me, Cien… You can hear the explanation on the way."
At the voice laced with a hint of irritation, Cien was forced to drag her feet like a dog being led to a slaughterhouse.
Normally, Iris did not get angry. She was the type who didn't trust people to begin with, so there were few individuals around her worth the effort of an emotional outburst.
If she was going to get angry, she would rather just discard the person cleanly.
That was Iris’s way. Interpreting this conversely, the fact that Iris was showing irritation now meant that Cien still had some utility left.
Whether to laugh or cry at that, Cien didn't know. Her face fell as she already began to miss Ian.
If it were Sir Ian, he would have stood his ground more confidently.
It was then that Cien’s guard knight, Irene, attempted a timid protest.
"Um, Your Highness Iris. I apologize, but Her Highness Cien has her own schedule…"
"Imperial Decree."
Of course, it was a futile effort.
Those two syllables were a magic word that made Irene break into a cold sweat and cast her gaze downward.
"Sir Lupemion, what schedule could possibly take precedence over an Imperial Decree? I am carrying out a special mission from His Majesty."
"…I-I am sorry!"
"I’m glad you at least know you should be sorry."
With a cold snort, Iris did not hide her look of disdain.
"I heard the news. You acted out against the second son of some rural viscount and got soundly beaten, didn't you? Thanks to that, my sister was humiliated in the middle of the Academy, and in just a few months, she’s been reduced to knitting. Ha!"
"S-Sister!"
Rarely, Cien raised her voice in a flare of temper.
It was a different reaction from before, when she had been trembling like a mouse before a cat. Iris’s cold gaze naturally shifted toward Cien.
Irene looked somewhat moved.
Was her master finally going to protest on her behalf against such excessive insults?
That guess was only half right.
Cien was trembling, her small fists clenched tight. She looked truly furious.
"How can you call Sir Ian 'just' the second son of a rural viscount! How can you speak so disparagingly of a knight who suppressed a subordinate of the Evil God and reached the level of 'High Expert'?!"
"Yes, he did… though he wasn't one back then."
It was a rebellion born of all the courage she could muster, but Iris’s response remained frigid.
Soon, Iris let out a sigh and even began to scold Cien again.
"Cien, please snap out of it… I don't care whether you like that philanderer who’s surrounded by nothing but scandals or not. But for people like us, never forget the fact that all people are merely tools."
"Even so, he is a hero representing humanity…!"
"So you’re saying he’s a very useful tool."
Snap. The folding fan that had somehow appeared in Iris’s hand unfurled.
The gaze above the fan, which she used to deliberately hide her mouth, was even sharper. Iris maintained her cynical tone.
"We simply need to place useful tools where they can achieve the maximum results. No matter how great a person is, they cannot exercise their power without the strength of an organization and information."
That was the last of Iris’s patience.
She began to walk gracefully once more, and after a moment of hesitation, Cien had no choice but to follow behind her. Stepping outside the building, they found guard knights already lined up in rows.
As expected of one of those closest to the throne. The guards' equipment and skill were formidable.
Regardless, Iris merely spared Cien a single glance.
"…Don't look so disgruntled. If you listen to me, it will even be of help to that ridiculous unrequited love of yours."
What on earth did that mean?
Cien, who had been listening to Iris in silence, widened her eyes in surprise.