A Pact Over Bitter Tea
The Emperor displayed an attitude of total indifference toward whatever future turmoil might unfold.
"In any case, the imperial throne will be bestowed as a reward upon whichever one pleases me best. Until then, you had best bow and scrape before me as diligently as you can." That was precisely the aura he projected.
The Empress, unlike the Imperial Consort, did not demean herself by clumsily fawning over the Emperor's whims at this late hour, nor did she openly contest with her rival for his favor. She simply took a step back and observed the situation from a distance. Prince Adrian's stance was largely the same. They refused to plunge into a bloody brawl as the Emperor wished, rolling in the mud with an inferior opponent just to beg for his selection.
In a sense, they were keeping a low profile merely to preserve their pride, but viewed another way, it allowed them to salvage at least that much dignity in such a precarious predicament. Even if the arrogant Imperial Consort Cleo and Prince Brian appeared to ride high on the back of imperial favor for the moment, all that mattered was striking their weak point at the decisive hour.
The one who triumphs in the end is the true victor. That was their guiding principle.
One could easily tell as much simply from how Prince Adrian had seamlessly concealed his sharp intellect and a swordsmanship that far outmatched Brian's.
"How does the tea taste?"
Naturally, there had never been any reason for them to spare a second glance for the sickly, troublemaking princess born of the Second Imperial Consort—someone wholly incapable of vying for the throne.
Until now, that is.
"It is bitter."
"Truly? I instructed them to add plenty of sugar..."
Adrian's fine brow furrowed slightly.
"After inviting me as your guest, your probing gaze is so sharp as a needle that the tea turns bitter enough to make me swallow my words."
"..."
There was no need to play the fool in front of him here.
The picture-perfect composure on Adrian's handsome face stiffened faintly.
"Surely you are not about to utter something foolish at this late hour, Imperial Prince Adrian? Something along the lines of: 'I heard you were ill, so I am relieved to see you in better health than expected; I offer my condolences for the misfortunes you suffered; let me be a tender brother from now on'?"
"..."
Adrian smiled wryly, as if he had not anticipated she would cut straight to the bone.
"Titania, I thought you were merely a child..."
"To be precise, I was clearly a pawn dancing in Imperial Consort Cleo's palm, so you had no desire to court danger by meddling with me. Am I wrong?"
"...And you have a remarkably sharp tongue, too, don't you?"
Adrian scratched his cheek sheepishly. His expression appeared bashful, but I was not fooled.
In the original novel, this man had been described as none other than a serpent. A man who hid his venom until the very last moment, waiting patiently for his foe to grow complacent and slip, before finally slitting their throat when retreat was no longer an option.
"Imperial Consort Cleo appeared to be in extraordinarily high spirits."
"I imagine she would be."
"I was quite surprised when you offered out of the blue to attend the Offering Festival in person. It will hardly be a pleasant affair. ...Won't it be dangerous? You do not even possess a proper escort knight yet. And it is not as though Her Highness the Second Imperial Consort... would accompany you."
"Then, does the Second Imperial Prince intend to accompany me?"
"If you request it."
"Did I appear so foolish that you thought I would openly antagonize Imperial Consort Cleo and take Your Highness's side?"
A faint, cynical chuckle kept slipping past my lips.
Titania, you truly had zero luck when it came to people.
Through that brief dinner, the Empress and the Prince had fundamentally revised their assessment of me. From a useless brat too dim-witted to serve any purpose, to a clever little thing who refused to dance blindly to Cleo's tune and knew how to look out for herself.
Adrian's offer sounded like the tender concern of a doting brother at first glance, but if I accepted those words at face value, I would be openly drawing lines against Imperial Consort Cleo.
And would the Empress and Prince Adrian truly stand against Cleo to shield me?
Not a chance.
Before the Emperor himself, I had declared my intention to go alone under the noble guise of being useful to everyone. If I turned around and dragged Adrian into the fold claiming to be terrified out of my wits, he could neatly slip into the Offering Festival—an occasion Cleo had relentlessly barred him from attending. At the same time, because he would simply be lending a hand to his poor younger sister, he would bear none of the political liability.
And above all, Titania would become the sole lightning rod for Imperial Consort Cleo's wrath.
To pull such a cheap stunt disguised as brotherly concern without the slightest intention of embracing me as a true ally and protecting me?
"I inquired about how many people came to visit me while I hovered between life and death."
Adrian's pale green eyes dimmed. I dropped a single sugar cube into my milk tea with a quiet plop.
"Not a single soul, they told me."
"...Titania."
"Don't you think it is far too late to play the doting older brother worrying over his foolish little sister journeying far away?"
"..."
Having no retort, Adrian closed his mouth.
"Or perhaps, as the good-for-nothing youngest princess who possesses nothing and can accomplish nothing, ought I to weep with gratitude simply because you deigned to reach out now? Since my counterpart is none other than the esteemed son of Her Imperial Majesty the Empress?"
"...Titania. Still, we are brother and sister—"
"Just as you never regarded Prince Brian as a brother, you never thought of me as a sister before this moment."
Among the imperial household, the Empress and the Second Prince were at least capable of feeling some measure of shame. Yet that meager conscience had never once been extended to the youngest princess—a reckless, insignificant girl of no value to anyone.
It was a sensible calculation on their part. Cleo was openly baiting and prodding me, so there was no reason for them to invite trouble by getting involved. I simply had not been worth the risk. Whether I could successfully become the mistress of the Castrein Duchy was entirely uncertain, and my relationship with my fiancé was in absolute ruins. The outcome had seemed obvious.
What a bitter irony it was.
Titania had fallen into utter ruin precisely because not a single soul had ever offered her a hand. Yet the instant she showed a glimmer of utility, they reached out without hesitation.
How terribly starved for affection that poor girl had been. She had been festering so deeply inside that she had clung to the desperate delusion that a fiancé who clearly detested her actually harbored secret affection for her.
If only someone had reached out just a little sooner, things would never have degenerated to this point.
"When I was merely a spoiled, unruly princess, you paid me no mind and did not care even when I brushed against death. Now that I appear to be a playable card, has your pity finally blossomed?"
"...I am sorry, Titania."
Adrian lowered his head. That, at least, came as a surprise—the humility to bow his head and offer an unhesitating apology to a younger sister a full head shorter than himself. For throughout her entire ordeal, not a single person had ever offered Titania a sincere apology.
"Just as you said, it is true that I only took an interest in you after witnessing your recent conduct and the way you carried yourself tonight. For someone like me... to presume to act the older brother must indeed look laughable."
"..."
"However, even if my circumstances are better than yours, my situation and Mother's are hardly enviable. ...I know that sounds like a hollow excuse to your ears."
"..."
"Even so, I pride myself on being a far better choice for you than Imperial Consort Cleo or Brian, who sought to exploit you openly."
He was not wrong.
If Imperial Consort Cleo and Prince Brian were not such irredeemable vipers, I would never have bothered coming here to sip tea in the first place. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, as the old adage went.
"Considering the sharp intellect you displayed today, I doubt you intend to sever ties with me completely either, do you?"
"..."
I weighed my thoughts in silence.
The problem was my severe lack of options.
I could hardly align myself with Imperial Consort Cleo—who had attempted to murder me, used me as a tool, and relentlessly gaslit me—and her unhinged son. Feigning ignorance and maneuvering from the shadows had its limits as well. For a princess without a shred of political backing, waging an open war against the Emperor's favored consort within the palace walls was an impossible task.
That was precisely why I had sought the Castrein Duchy's pseudo-assistance, but...
...Right. Inhuman monsters versus people who at least retain a shred of human conscience. The latter is overwhelmingly the only viable path.
Swallowing a quiet sigh, I broke the silence.
"...Let us call it a temporary, secret alliance. We assist one another only so long as it does not cause significant harm to either party."
Prince Adrian broke into a confident, satisfied grin. Truly, the man was remarkably perceptive and frighteningly adept at reading the political wind.
"Splendid! That is a decision you will never regret, my dear sister."
"Do not act overly familiar, Your Highness."
"Ah, my apologies. Truly, forgive me. I promise to be a diligent older brother from this day forward. I mean every word."
"Do not drag flimsy blood ties into a bilateral contractual relationship."
Despite my frosty rebuff, Prince Adrian laughed unabashedly. He casually suggested a round of cards, mentioned other entertainments he possessed, and summoned his personal attendant to begin laying out various games across the table.
He looked for all the world like an overexcited golden retriever that had just discovered a new playmate.
Though it had been an unavoidable compromise, I had not picked the wrong partner, had I? Deep within my chest, I let out a long, silent lament.