Chapter 47
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: The Tournament Brackets
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#47.
"Here, the bracket. Can you see it now?"
"...Yeah. Thanks, Isaac."
Charlotte nodded, shaking off her stray thoughts as she quickly scanned the bracket.
Before she could even find her own name, her eyes locked onto Joseph.
Heat rushed straight to her head.
The third prince, and they make him go through preliminaries? What a pack of trash.
By custom, anyone who'd placed in the top five last time advanced straight past preliminaries. Even the second prince—who'd been too young to enter back then—was exempt.
But making the third prince fight his way through? That was ridiculous.
Of course, Isaac's name wasn't on the prelim bracket either. It was already listed in the main draw.
"Talk about star-crossed lovers."
A voice suddenly came from Isaac's head, which she had cupped in her hands.
"...Huh?"
"We're in different groups. I was hoping we'd draw each other early."
Only then did Charlotte notice the groups on the bracket.
It was divided into three large groups. Group 1 had Isaac and the first prince. Group 2: Russell, Joseph, and second prince Ricardo. Group 3: Byaki, Charlotte, and Lancelot. They seemed to have combined prelims and main bracket assignments.
Now she understood what Isaac meant. She nodded.
"To face you, I'd have to make it all the way to the finals."
"Yeah."
Tournament rules meant one loss and you were out—no second chances. You only met opponents from other groups in the finals.
The top two survivors from each of Groups 1, 2, and 3 advanced to the finals, where it would all be decided at once.
Charlotte tilted her head to one side and flashed a wicked grin.
"Sounds fun."
Isaac chuckled deeply.
No matter how he looked at it, it was amusing. This tournament that he'd expected to be nothing but boring.
The Setia children, led by Jerome, crossed the stands in unison toward the front row.
Amid the platinum-blond kids marching with perfect discipline, the girl with shockingly pink hair stood out like a sore thumb.
Camilla, already seated ahead of time, watched her house's children enter.
She read the strange mood in the air.
Shadow Blade Day didn't come every year.
It was an event that rolled around only once every five years.
That meant children of all ages competed, and it wasn't exactly fair to those coming of age right then or the too-young ones.
But by now, it didn't matter. Each house proudly sent their rising stars to stake their honor.
Naturally, as always, this year's winner would come from either the imperial family or House Setia.
The crowd told you everything about public sentiment.
Who they pinned their hopes on. Who they cheered for.
It even hinted at who might make the best heir.
Which was why the buzz should have been all about the second prince's matches or Isaac's.
And yet...
"You've heard Charlotte Setia is competing this time, haven't you, Madam?"
"Heard? It's more than that—they say she beat Lancelot in just a few exchanges at their last spar."
"That talentless girl trained that hard?"
"Come on, does that even make sense? I'll bet two hassrons she drops in the first prelim round. You ladies sure love your rumors."
"Fine, you asked for it. Twenty hassrons says Charlotte Setia advances past the first round."
From the entrance all the way to where Camilla sat in the center, the only name on everyone's lips was Charlotte's.
...At this rate, it's almost like...
"At this rate, it almost feels like House Setia's youngest daughter is the star of the show today."
The empress's voice cut in, as if reading her mind. Camilla rose to greet Selen.
The empress, with her long purple hair coiled to one side, wore her usual elegant yet commanding attire.
A pristine white tunic draped with flowing golden fabric pinned from her left shoulder to her right. She sported a tablion embroidered with purple and gold thread—the colors reserved for emperor and empress—lavishly intertwined.
This martial kingdom revered arms above all, so unless it was a formal palace ball, Cheiker women dressed in unisex styles like men.
Typically, the empress chose subtler hues than the emperor, but Selen always matched his extravagance. That was her signature.
Camilla glanced at the empress's outfit and bowed deeply.
"Your Majesty."
"Indeed. You've raised several fine heir candidates again this year. I thought no one could rival Isaac."
The empress extended her hand. As a duke, Camilla was one of the rare women granted the privilege of kissing it like a man to show respect.
She smiled graciously and shook her head.
"Not at all. An empty cart rattles loudest. People are just surprised this unexpected child put in some effort. She's no real wildcard."
The empress peered at her over her fan.
"She'd better not be."
"She won't."
Selen's pale green eyes glinted.
"Last time, that girl defended the third prince right in front of me."
"Did she now?"
Camilla smiled politely, but inwardly she clicked her tongue.
Lately, Shadow Blade Day prep plus skirmishes near the border with the neighboring Serres Empire had kept her swamped. She'd heard reports of Charlotte hanging around the third prince a couple times, but she hadn't had a moment to tell Jerome to rein her in.
Solid alliances cracked over nothing.
She'd failed to keep her granddaughter in check. That was undoubtedly her and Jerome's fault.
Camilla resolved to give Jerome an earful next time she saw him—he wasn't at her side now, tending the other children—and said softly,
"No need for concern, Your Majesty."
"Good."
"Of course."
"I hope it all goes as planned. For the sake of our houses."
The empress finally sat, but her expression remained uneasy. She looked up at Camilla, words still unsaid.
"I've heard that girl and the third prince are quite close. If you've been secretly grooming her with that in mind..."
"Worrying over nothing."
It looked like a cordial exchange of smiles from the outside, but the undercurrent was sharp.
Camilla might have found Charlotte irksome earlier, but now the empress was...
...mocking her as some worthless girl with no real skill.
No matter how much the house looked down on her, it chafed when outsiders said it.
Camilla forced her lips into the widest smile she could manage to hide her rising anger.
Thankfully, the emperor entered just then and took the seat beside the empress.
"Your Imperial Majesty."
"It's been too long, Your Majesty."
"Blessings of Shadow Blade Day upon Your Imperial Majesty."
The surrounding nobles rose in a wave to greet him.
Their conversation ended there.
Camilla offered her respects to the emperor as she eyed him.
He wore a sleeveless tunic to flaunt his vigor, and it suited him well. His sturdy build and well-defined arm muscles paired nicely with the simple tunic and matching tablion.
Emperor Sanchez had near-black gray hair and a matching beard, nothing like his first or second sons.
If only second prince Ricardo had half his father's character, I wouldn't have a worry in the world.
"Sit, everyone, hahaha. Sharing such a fine day with my beautiful ladies lifts the spirits."
Camilla sank into her seat alongside the other nobles, swallowing a sigh.
House Setia, under her lead, wasn't just any duchy passing down titles and wealth.
It was the primary pillar holding up this fragile kingdom, always one step from collapse.
After her sole chosen heir—Jerome's older brother Loruum—died young in an unfortunate accident, Camilla had clung to her seat past fifty, refusing to yield to anyone.
She wouldn't step down until someone with true talent and leadership emerged.
Her sons had yielded none, but her grandsons...
She'd have no choice but to retire then.
Camilla was still commanding the battlefield, but even the greatest knight couldn't defy time forever.
Isaac, most likely.
His overwhelming talent all but decided it.
But Isaac has a fatal flaw.
The second prince and Isaac weren't ideal partners to prop up the kingdom—one too strong, the other needed to be softer.
...Is letting the second prince and Isaac lead the next generation truly the best path? This tournament will confirm it once more.
Like it or not, the tide of the era was already flowing that way.
Camilla settled into her seat, her heart heavy.