The Emperor's Birthday Banquet (2)
The imperial capital Teria of the Holy Ramir Empire.
At its very heart stood the Imperial Palace, a structure of unparalleled splendor befitting the seat of power that ruled Iseland.
The massive marble edifice resembled a grand temple in its exterior design. True to the name of a holy empire, reliefs of Jedin and the six gods adorned it everywhere.
Even the Pantheon headquarters for each order were luxurious in their own right, but the palace dwarfed them all combined several times over.
It was a place that could intimidate even low-ranking nobles just by stepping inside, radiating overwhelming dignity.
Yet today's banquet was held outdoors in the palace grounds. An expansive garden nearly the size of a grand park had been transformed into a lavish outdoor venue.
I stepped through the entrance.
"The delegation from Essemont, represented by Count Harsen, Yulian von Reinhardt, enters!"
A court official announced my arrival, while a mage beside him amplified the voice with an amplification spell.
All eyes from the assembled nobles turned to me. The feudal lords themselves were absent.
Those who wielded immense power in their domains had too much to manage back home—especially with the ominous stirrings of the Kaotic Gates and monster movements. They couldn't afford to leave their territories.
Filling their places were court bureaucrats, high priests from the central orders, and representatives like me standing in for the feudal lords. High nobles residing in the capital had also shown up.
"The lion crest! That's the Reinhardt family. Is that count the much-rumored heir to the margrave?"
"Indeed. Count Harsen—Yulian von Reinhardt. That's him."
"I heard he was a wastrel with wild hair, causing all sorts of trouble in the capital. But he looks far too composed."
"No, no. Just last winter at the palace ball, he wasn't like this. He was a true scoundrel! I still can't forget him belting out a pig-slaughtering screech of a song right in front of His Majesty."
"Really? But with such striking looks, it's hard to believe he was a wastrel. His appearance could rival those carved angels over there."
A few nobles already mingling whispered among themselves, their words carried to me by Sylph. They seemed puzzled by my changed demeanor.
"Well, whether he's a wastrel or not hardly matters. What matters is that he'll soon rule the margraviate."
Some with keen political instincts took interest in my transformation. They knew I'd been officially named heir to the margrave last winter.
"True. Everyone here represents major feudal lords. Thinking of our domains' futures, it wouldn't hurt to build ties with that heir now."
Others weighed the benefits pragmatically.
But the northern delegates, from territories bordering Essemont, reacted differently. To them, the Reinhardt family—lords of the north—was more imposing than even the imperial family. Without hesitation, they approached me swiftly and pledged their loyalty.
"Glory to the lion whose valor tames the north winds! It's an honor to meet you, Count Yulian!"
Several groups bowed in unison. Mindful of the palace setting, they didn't kneel, but their deference was profound enough for any other venue.
As representatives of their domains, their attire was magnificent—ornate uniforms brimming with formality and splendor.
Any ordinary person would shrink under such intense scrutiny, but I calmly raised a hand in response.
"As a son of Reinhardt, I return your courtesy."
My tone was steady yet commanding, my gaze and etiquette unmistakably that of a superior.
Mason Viscount, who had stayed to assist with the banquet instead of returning to his domain, smiled with satisfaction. He whispered approvingly.
"Well done. Perfect etiquette for the official heir of House Reinhardt. Facing such a vast venue and throng of nobles without flinching—most heirs from lesser houses couldn't manage it."
His voice held genuine surprise. He'd seen my changes at the estate, but witnessing my poise here amid key officials and nobles erased any lingering doubts.
"Nobles pounce on the slightest flaw. But before your commanding presence, they'll be the ones cowed. That's how a Reinhardt should be—must be. As heir to the family that stands above all but the emperor."
Mason wasn't one for empty flattery. Besides, I no longer relied on the Noble Scion trait.
I couldn't depend on it forever. This was who Yulian von Reinhardt was now. I had to fulfill the role flawlessly in any situation.
Clinging to traits was mere luck. Through Eirin, I'd studied noble etiquette in my spare time.
I'd thought and acted like a noble. Frequent visits to the alchemy order, steeped in noble airs, had helped too.
'Now, treating others condescendingly feels more natural.'
Even Mason sensed no incongruity.
"Anyone can see you're the grand duke's heir now. His Highness Wilhelm will be even prouder."
Thus, my proficiency with the Reinhardt Heir title rose alongside it.
Without the trait, the gains doubled.
I exchanged brief words with the northern delegates and nobles, gathering needed info while leaving politics to Mason.
As we sat at a table awaiting the emperor's entrance, someone approached.
"Lord Yulian!!"
It was a young woman's desperate cry. Turning, I saw Lilia hurrying toward me, arms crossed over her chest.
***
Lilia's attire differed from her usual. At the Pantheon, she always wore modest nun's robes.
Now, she donned a banquet-appropriate gown.
A white-toned dress of luxurious fabric exuding nobility, sparkling as if dusted with gem powder.
'Well, as an imperial princess, it probably was.'
The bodice exposed her shoulders and upper cleavage, accentuating her voluptuous figure. The skirt wasn't overly voluminous, hugging her wide hips and rear before flowing elegantly downward. It preserved her curves while radiating grace.
Instantly, nobles around me stared in awe. Even in nun's robes, her beauty shone through.
In this dress that highlighted it further, no man could look away.
Gazes stole from across the venue too.
But as the empire's third princess, ogling her like a commoner was grave rudeness.
The attendees quickly composed themselves and paid respects to imperial royalty.
"May Jedin's light upon the capital bless that noble blood forever. We greet Your Highness Lilia!"
I joined them. Lilia gracefully lifted her skirt's hem in reply.
"Thank you for attending Father's birthday banquet. As his daughter and sister to the empire, I offer my gratitude."
She smiled radiantly. It was the benevolence that made her famous in the capital.
But her eyes fixed solely on me.
Mason, sensing her intent, swiftly led nearby nobles away.
"Lord Yulian...!!"
Our eyes met, her voice laden with emotion—more urgent than her last visit to my atelier.
She nearly embraced me but restrained herself, mindful of onlookers, settling for grasping my hand tightly instead.
"It's been too long! Have you been well?"
"Thanks to Your Highness, I've been fine. And you?"
"Y-Yes... I missed you so much... Lord Yulian..."
Her pitiful gaze nearly made me pull her close, but I held back for decorum.
"Preparations for Father's banquet kept me so busy... I couldn't even visit you. It was agonizing..."
It hadn't been ten days since last, but to her, it felt eternal.
"And I heard you're leading Essemont's delegation. Standing in for Lord Wilhelm—I'm so proud. It's your official debut as the grand duke's heir. But..."
Even today, something disappointed her.
Had I not volunteered as delegate, I'd have stood beside her as her fiancé. She clearly regretted that.
"But we can't dwell on regrets. This is important for you too. Seeing you so splendid will surely soothe big brother's anger!"
It wasn't just a debut. I also needed to apologize for last winter's ball insolence.
Of course, unlike Lilia—blinded by love—the emperor had no reason to forgive.
'That's why I've prepared thoroughly.'
Lilia looked worried, fretting he might not relent.
"I've prepared fully to apologize to His Majesty. No need to worry."
I squeezed her fingertips reassuringly.
"Ahhhn..."
Her reaction was more intense than relief, but she calmed somewhat.
"Hearing you say that reassures me more! Now I must show my face elsewhere... Sorry."
"Not at all. Your Highness has duties too. I'll be fine."
"Really? Hmm... Am I the only one who feels this way? I don't want to be apart from you even a moment..."
She pouted. I quickly clasped her hand in both of mine.
"I feel the same. I always want to be with Your Highness Lilia."
"Ahh... That's embarrassing... When you say it like that..."
She writhed delightfully at my touch. The answer she'd hoped for. She fell for the leading question, but her cuteness made it forgivable.
'She's fully aroused now.'
Lilia beamed in ecstasy and satisfaction.
"Still, once the blessing rite and tributes for Father's birthday conclude, we can mingle freely. I'll come find you then, Lord Yulian."
"Understood. Until then."
With that, Lilia departed. Then, at last, the emperor entered.
***
The emperor's birthday—and the central order's blessing rite to commemorate it.
Grious Cardinal and high bishops conducted the solemn religious ceremony, evoking medieval holy paintings.
Yet the emperor exuded no dignity befitting the Holy Empire's representative. He seemed utterly ordinary.
'Hard to believe he's Lilia's brother.'
Half-brother, technically. Unlike the continent's top beauty Lilia, he was just a plain fortysomething man.
Paradoxically, Grious—ever at his side directing the rites—appeared more imposing.
His neatly grown gray beard and upturned eyes gave him an uncanny air. That was Grious Cardinal.
The empire's true powerholder. A corrupt priest basking in luxury at the emperor's side, casting shadows over the realm.
In Demon King Slayer 2, he was a mid-boss whose head rolled before Lucia's father, Duke Pedro.
'Once the nest assault succeeds, I need to deal with him before Pedro can act.'
Lost in thought, the rite ended. Next came tributes from the feudal delegations.
Mason and I exchanged glances.