Chapter 15
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 15
Aila furrowed her brow, her displeasure evident at the interruption of her private time.
Turning her head, she saw a man in the uniform of the Imperial Guard hurrying across the rear garden. It was Rowen, a knight tasked with guarding her father in place of Barkas, the overall commander of this journey.
The knight bowed before them, offering a brief gesture of respect to Aila before speaking urgently to his superior.
“His Majesty commands the Commander’s presence at once.”
Aila knew instinctively that it was Senevia who had summoned Barkas. One look at the knight’s grim expression was enough to guess that something unpleasant was afoot.
She bit her lip. This pilgrimage was being conducted with the official approval of the Council. Furthermore, her marriage to Barkas was a match that the conservative nobles supporting the Crown Prince had been pushing for a long time. No matter what schemes that woman plotted now, she wouldn’t be able to overturn it.
And yet, Aila could not shake a sense of foreboding. For years, hadn’t that woman used every trick at her disposal to drive a wedge between Gareth and Barkas?
She had even overridden the fierce opposition of the Grand Duke of Sieorkan to keep Barkas—who had only just completed his knighting ceremony at the time—tied to Thalia’s side for seven long years. There was no doubt she was trying to manipulate the Emperor again to sabotage them.
Knowing it was a breach of etiquette, Aila stepped between the two men.
“I am coming as well.”
“But, Your Highness, His Majesty specifically…”
“I am a Princess of this Empire. I have the right to an audience with His Majesty the Emperor whenever I wish. And I have decided that I will see my father now, alongside my fiancé.”
The knight, looking flustered by her firm stance, glanced tentatively at Barkas.
Aila felt a flicker of annoyance at the way he seemed to value Barkas’s decision over her own will, but she kept her expression neutral, knowing full well that the knights practically worshipped Barkas.
Finally, Barkas nodded.
“Do as Her Highness wishes.”
Once his permission was granted, the knight fell in line to her left as an escort.
Aila kept her back straight as she exited the garden and headed toward the Main Palace. As they passed through the entrance of the Great Hall, the interior of the building came into view, bathed in the harsh glare of the summer sun. She crossed the gleaming white marble hall and ascended the stairs covered in a deep russet carpet.
The massive doors leading to the Emperor’s audience chamber were carved with the likenesses of Darian, the first Emperor who founded the Roem Empire, and the knights who followed him.
Passing through the grand entrance while casting a casual glance at the statues of heroes she knew all too well, a vast hall revealed itself, featuring a richly patterned carpet and the golden throne at its far end.
Aila straightened her spine as she looked up at the man who held all the power in the world and the woman standing by his side. Her father wore his usual solemn expression, and Senevia…
Suddenly, her train of thought snapped. The moment she saw the Empress surrounded by a golden aura, a sense of helplessness bordering on despair washed over her.
Somehow, Senevia grew more beautiful with each passing year. It was almost horrifying.
‘A golden devil…’
Every time Aila faced her, she was reminded of a fable she had read as a child.
In a certain village lived two brothers who cherished each other more than anyone else. However, a devil who hated all good things in the world decided to tear them apart and dropped a large lump of gold in their path. Blinded by the brilliant radiance, the brothers fought over the gold until they eventually killed each other.
When Aila first saw Senevia, she thought that the gold the devil had prepared to destroy them had taken human form.
Her radiance had blinded the eyes and heart of a once-honorable monarch, stained a woman’s life with grief, and forced Aila and her brother to live in terrible sorrow and humiliation.
As if that weren’t enough, that devil had finally given birth to the Emperor’s son, threatening even Gareth’s position.
Aila’s gaze naturally drifted down to the small boy standing beside the Empress. The Second Imperial Prince, Athros Roem Guirta, was looking down at her and Barkas with curious green eyes.
Whenever she saw that young boy with his intelligent gaze, Aila was overcome by a powerful sense of crisis. She found it almost incomprehensible why Gareth directed so much of his edge toward Thalia—who was nothing more than a source of scandal—rather than toward his younger brother, who held the next right of succession.
Aila’s own resentment flared when she thought of the years of humiliation her mother had to endure because of Thalia. But Thalia was a trivial existence who could exert no real influence over them.
All that girl had done since entering the palace was torment innocent servants and cause all sorts of scandals that left everyone clicking their tongues in disapproval. What kind of threat could such a foolish brat possibly be?
To Aila, Thalia was merely an unpleasant, and perhaps slightly pitiful, existence. A bitter remnant of the past that had to be endured in silence. That was all. That was why she could magnanimously overlook the wicked pranks the insignificant girl threw her way.
But Athros was different. She was well aware that many in the Imperial Palace were fond of the boy with the innocent eyes. And she knew that those who were uneasy about Gareth’s volatile temper had begun to harbor subtle expectations for the young prince…
“What are you doing, not showing proper respect?”
The heavy, resonating voice snapped Aila out of her thoughts. The Emperor was casting a questioning look toward her.
Aila stepped to her fiancé’s side and offered a graceful bow.
“I followed Sir Sieorkan here out of a desire to see my father’s face. Please, forgive me for coming without notice.”
“Raise your head. You may come to see me whenever you wish.”
The soft voice of the Empire’s sovereign, Birus Roem Guirta, echoed above her. Perhaps because he felt some form of guilt whenever he looked at her, reminded of the wife he had betrayed, he tended to be exceptionally lenient toward her.
Aila swallowed a cold sneer and bowed politely.
“I thank you for your generous words.”
“It’s just as well. The First Imperial Princess would have found out anyway. We might as well use this opportunity to explain it to everyone.”
Senevia, who had been stroking her son’s russet curls, leaned toward the Emperor and spoke in a whisper.
Athros watched them with a curious expression, as if the conversation between the adults was endlessly fascinating. Aila, who had been watching her half-brother with wary eyes, shot a sharp look toward the Empress.
“What is it you intend to explain?”
“His Majesty will give you the details,” Senevia replied in a soft, melodic whisper, gently stroking the back of the Emperor’s hand. Aila forced herself to look away.
After a long, awkward silence, as if her father were carefully choosing his words, he finally spoke.
“I summoned you today to inform you of a change regarding this pilgrimage.”
“Please, speak. I am listening.”
Barkas showed no agitation at the sudden news. The Emperor looked briefly uncomfortable at his subordinate’s stoic attitude before continuing bluntly.
“Thalia will be joining this pilgrimage as well. See to it that additional guards are assigned for her and that the necessary travel equipment is prepared.”
At the unexpected command, Aila froze.