Chapter 15
Chapter 15
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: The Ball (2)
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“Princess?”
“That's right.”
The culprit who had driven Yuri to commit an unforgivable sin in his previous life was standing right there.
Her platinum blonde hair and deep green eyes were exactly as he remembered.
Their eyes met suddenly.
She looked at Yuri, narrowing her eyes with a faint smile.
Yuri didn't react.
In this life, he had no entanglements with Ekaterina whatsoever.
Yet she stared at him as if she knew something.
Yuri closed his eyes and regained his composure.
He wouldn't repeat the same mistake this time.
Never.
He steeled himself and opened his eyes again.
Ekaterina's smile had deepened.
Lost in thought, Yuri lost track of time.
Georg was sitting beside Fiore, engaged in conversation.
Yuri couldn't figure out which of his changes had drawn Georg here.
He wanted to pry for information somehow, but that woman made it hard to stay calm.
Ekaterina.
She sat demurely, offering gentle smiles to nobles who approached her occasionally.
But Yuri, who knew her well, found every one of those actions revolting.
“Yuri.”
“What.”
“Should I go talk to her?”
“Do whatever you want.”
Joshua seemed smitten with Ekaterina.
“What should I say?”
“How should I know.”
“How old is she?”
“Same age as me.”
“Really? How do you know?”
“I just do.”
“She looks older than me.”
“She's mature for her age.”
It made sense.
Yuri himself had fallen for her in his previous life for the same reason, so he knew better than anyone how captivating that face could be.
“I can't hold back. I'm going over.”
Joshua stood up. Yuri sighed.
“Do whatever.”
“Trust me.”
“Trust you with what?”
“She'll be your sister-in-law someday.”
“Sure.”
“If I come back looking sad, pour me a drink.”
“I'll pour you some juice.”
He'd probably come back grinning unexpectedly. Ekaterina toyed with people's hearts.
“Hmm...”
Glancing around the ballroom, Yuri saw Cedric dancing with a noble lady.
His impeccable character, martial prowess, and kind heart meant he never refused any noble's request to dance.
It was the makings of a true king.
What about himself, though?
Yuri's emotions grew complicated as he glanced sideways at Ekaterina.
Their eyes met again.
Fortunately, Joshua had approached her just then, blocking her line of sight.
“Damn it...”
Yuri decided to ignore her. He turned his body away from her direction and reached for the snacks on the table.
“More cookies, sir?”
A familiar voice suddenly spoke up. Looking up, he saw Ena standing there with a bright smile.
Seeing her eased Yuri's mind somehow.
“Ena. You're working hard.”
“Not at all, Your Highness.”
“Isn't it tough?”
“No. It's harder dealing with someone every day...”
“Enough. Give me a lot.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Take it easy after.”
“Have you finally realized my worth?”
“I've always known.”
“Oh my.”
As he stuffed the cookies Ena gave him into his mouth, Yuri shook off his stray thoughts.
What did it matter if an imperial prince from the Empire had come, or if he'd run into Ekaterina?
Nothing had changed. Whatever happened, he'd give his all in every moment.
“I'll be going now.”
“Good work.”
Ena stacked up the empty plates and headed to the kitchen.
Yuri sipped his drink and leaned back against the chair.
The unexpected guest had left him feeling drained even while sitting still.
“Hoo...”
As he let out a sigh, someone approached him.
Yuri reflexively straightened up.
“...”
Deep green eyes looked down at him.
Georg Ivarna Grangzaiyen.
The Empire's Second Imperial Prince.
The executor who wielded the Empire's military might in the Emperor's stead.
The intimidation from the man riding horseback in his black helm was still fresh in Yuri's mind.
Georg spoke.
“You are...”
Yuri stood and offered a formal bow.
“I am Yuri Brioll, Third Prince of Brioll.”
“Yes. So you're...”
His eyes scanned Yuri from head to toe.
Yuri tried not to show any hostility.
The Emperor had decided on the war, but this man had led the front lines. They'd even crossed swords directly.
“Indeed, Fiore's son.”
“Pardon?”
“Look at me.”
At Georg's command, Yuri raised his head to meet his gaze.
...
And in that instant.
Yuri flinched and stepped back.
The mana tendrils probing toward him halted.
“You felt it.”
Georg gave a chilling smile. His green eyes gleamed like a snake's.
This was his true face, not the polite mask he'd worn until now.
“Thirteen years old, was it...”
Georg eyed Yuri with keen interest for a while.
“Impressive talent.”
Then he turned away. The hem of his red cloak whipped up a breeze, tousling Yuri's hair.
Yuri clenched his fists to steady his trembling.
For a mere test, it had been awfully threatening.
Young as he was, had he already reached that level?
What an unpleasant bastard.
“The siblings are just alike...”
He grumbled under his breath.
Crash!
A sharp shattering sound rang out.
It was a noise that shouldn't echo in a ballroom.
The entire hall fell silent.
Turning his gaze, Yuri beheld a truly bewildering sight.
“...”
A stain spread across Georg's red cloak.
Ena stood trembling before him.
“I'm sorry.”
Spilling food on imperial royalty—especially soiling the red cloth symbolizing the imperial family—was a crime the Empire would not tolerate.
“Oh dear...”
Georg tilted his head to stare at Yuri with a faint smile.
“This child has made a grave mistake.”
Yuri knew it.
The bastard had deliberately bumped into Ena.
“But alas, in the Empire, imperial law reigns supreme...”
A sword glinted between the folds of his red cloak. No one but Fiore could carry a blade here, but the Empire's prince was an exception.
“Execution is the fitting punishment...”
Georg bowed toward Fiore.
“I seek the King of Brioll's permission.”
Fiore shook his head.
“Have you come to disrupt my ball?”
“Of course not.”
“If you crave blood, spill it on your own lands.”
“Your Majesty.”
Georg looked up at Fiore while still bowed.
“The Empire and Brioll have always maintained good relations.”
“You don't seem inclined to continue that.”
“The imperial family of the Empire and the royal house of Brioll agreed to respect each other's authority within non-conflicting bounds.”
“Indeed.”
“Do you remember the Gatensha incident?”
“...”
Fiore had once personally beheaded an Empire knight.
And the Emperor had overlooked it without issue.
“This is the same.”
The past had come full circle.
Fiore rubbed his forehead.
Invoking the accord put imperial honor on the line; blocking it would be a challenge to the Empire.
“For the peace between our nations.”
Yuri felt déjà vu.
Peace.
To preserve it, they'd yielded one life. And they'd demanded more.
“I shall uphold the imperial honor.”
Honor.
Brioll's honor differed from the Empire's. To raise one, another had to fall.
Georg drew his sword.
“I take no pleasure in this. I'll make it quick. It won't be too bloody.”
The ballroom lights glided smoothly along the white blade.
Ena's shoulders trembled.
Yuri looked up at the chandelier hanging overhead.
Memories from his past life flashed above the sparkling lights.
The kingdom's welfare and one girl's life teetered absurdly on the scales.
Thoughts swirled and scattered in his mind.
Ideals versus reality.
Justice versus necessity.
Pretext versus power.
His racing thoughts halted before the gruesome face of the dead.
'That is Brioll's vow.'
Yuri let out a bitter laugh.
He'd forgotten for a moment. He was a sinner, and this life was his penance. Yet he'd schemed like a rat.
No choices had ever been given to him in the first place.
Yuri's voice rang through the silent ballroom.
“Your Highness.”
The blade descending on Ena's neck froze.
“That girl is mine.”
Georg turned.
A smile played on his face. His eyes said it: Go ahead, do something.
Yuri smiled back and rose.
“Her fault is my fault...”
Twisted faces turned toward him.
Everyone wore the same expression of dissuasion—it was almost comical.
Yuri strode toward Georg.
“Your Highness is the great Empire's prince, but I too am a prince of Brioll, however insignificant. In light of that, please forgo summary execution and instead...”
In the glittering lights of the ballroom, he sensed another pair of deep green eyes.
Ekaterina was watching him.
That beautiful face dredged up the miseries of his past life.
“Grant us a duel by combat.”
Murmurs rippled through the hall.
Insulting the imperial family was grave, but it couldn't be applied wholesale to Brioll's prince. Insisting on punishment would lead to trial.
And duels were a custom familiar to the Empire.
Prideful Georg wouldn't dodge such a provocation.
“Hahahahaha...”
Georg burst into laughter.
“Yuri, was it? The Third Prince.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“May I call you Yuri?”
“Of course.”
“Very well, Yuri.”
He addressed Fiore.
“Your Majesty. Brioll's Third Prince has raised a lawful objection, so I accept. Is that acceptable?”
Fiore sighed shortly.
“Do as you will.”
“Thank you.”
Georg looked more delighted than at any point tonight.
“I should face you myself, but considering imperial dignity, I'll use a champion. I'll send the youngest squire from my guard, suited to your age. Remember that.”
It sounded like mercy at a glance, but it was the opposite.
When skill levels were clear, concessions led to mild outcomes.
A duel between a battle-hardened imperial prince and a thirteen-year-old prince would surely end mildly.
But when levels were close, any mishap was plausible.
“My thanks for your mercy.”
“The Empire is generous to brave warriors.”
With that, Georg bowed to Fiore.
“I've spoiled the mood, Your Majesty. I'll take my leave.”
“Much appreciated.”
“Ekaterina. Enjoy yourself more.”
She shrugged at him with a dissatisfied look.
Georg laughed heartily again and left the ballroom.
The storm had passed.
The air felt unsettled.
Yuri helped Ena to her feet.
“Ena. Get up.”
“Your Highness...”
“Go rest.”
“Because of me...”
“Don't worry.”
Ena gazed at Yuri with eyes full of mixed emotions, bowed deeply, and left with the other maids' support.
Yuri clapped to liven the mood.
“Hey.”
Signaling the orchestra, they quickly resumed playing.
He glanced at Ekaterina just in case.
Contrary to expectations, she sat at a distance, staring but not approaching to speak.
Was the young Ekaterina more cautious?
“What're you thinking?”
Yuri shook his head.
He had no regrets about what he'd done. If anything, he lamented not severing Georg's head right then.
As he unwittingly reached for a glass on the table, someone stopped him.
“No alcohol for you.”
It was Hernando.
His eyes flickered with an odd light.
“Have this instead.”
“What's that?”
“Non-alcoholic wine.”
“That's not wine.”
“It's for children.”
Hernando smiled slyly.
“A toast to Brioll's future?”
“Pass.”
Yuri chuckled dryly and downed the glass in one go. It tasted like juice.
“Why do you keep staring?”
“No reason.”
Hernando's gaze felt burdensome.
He was watchful usually, but tonight his eyes sparkled especially.
Anyone with taste would be moved by what had just happened.
“Hernando.”
“Yes.”
“Don't fall for me.”
“Pardon?”
His face seemed to twist, but Yuri ignored it and lifted another glass.
This one was real wine.
“Toast to me.”