After retrieving Laskaria’s crest and returning to her territory, Rhys had no time to rest. In a few days, all the nobles of the empire would gather at the Imperial Palace for the Founding Festival.

Preteria, a country established under the goddess’s blessing. The Founding Festival was a lavish and grand celebration befitting such a description.

Rhys looked at her face in the mirror and exhaled deeply.

“My lady, are you nervous?”

“A little.”

Lambda, who was brushing Rhys’s hair, asked with concern.

“It’s understandable since you started attending the Founding Festival at a later age than other young ladies. Still, it’s not right for the Lady of Agente to appear timid.”

“Do I look that way? I’m nervous, but I didn’t think I was being timid.”

“But every time you face something important, My Lady…”

Lambda met Rhys’s eyes in the mirror and exaggeratedly drooped her shoulders.

“You become intimidated like this. I can always tell.”

“Haha… What’s with that silly face, Lambda?”

“I’m just imitating you, My Lady.”

Their laughter echoed softly throughout the room.

Lambda was right. In the past, Rhys would always shrink before such occasions. The nobles quickly noticed this attitude and gathered among themselves to look down on her, saying it was unbecoming of the Lady of Agente.

Why was it that such things now seemed trivial?

“Don’t worry, Lambda. I’m not really afraid of those things anymore.”

She felt Lambda’s gaze, unable to verbally ask if that was really true. Rhys quietly closed her eyes.

“…There are other things that frighten me.”

“What are they?”

Suddenly, behind her closed eyelids, the face of a man wearing a hood flashed before her. She couldn’t understand why his face appeared now. Rhys quickly opened her eyes.

“It’s the fact that we still haven’t chosen a dress for the Founding Festival.”

“Oh…”

Caught off guard, Lambda’s mouth fell open.

Watching Lambda hurry toward the dressing room, Rhys rose from her seat.

***

The imperial family’s crest, hanging prominently in the center of the Imperial Palace’s main hall, sparkled in the light. Below it, nobles filled the hall, each engaged in lively conversation.

Rhys quietly picked up a glass among them. At the same time, trumpets announcing the start of the Founding Festival resounded.

Looking up from the hall, one could see the imperial throne. In front of it, the Agente crest emitted a white light.

Mikhail was the protagonist ascending the stairs toward the throne, receiving everyone’s attention. Soon reaching the front of the throne, he knelt and held up his family’s crest.

The Emperor rose to bless him. However, for a moment, everyone’s attention turned not to the throne but to the entrance of the hall.

“…Isn’t that man the lord of Sylvester?”

“Duke Theophane Sylvester has arrived?”

Amid the commotion, the footsteps of a man walking into the center of the hall echoed.

Whispers began to overlap everywhere.

“How could Sylvester think to set foot here?”

“This is the first time I’m seeing his face in person.”

“Tsk, he can’t distinguish between places he can and cannot go.”

Rhys quietly observed the man who was welcomed by no one as she listened to the arbitrary chatter from all around.

Whether aware of this fact or not, the lord of Sylvester continued to walk steadfastly, looking only ahead.

Receiving the audience’s gaze at once, Theophane crossed through the nobles, climbed the stairs, and finally knelt before the Emperor.

“I stand before Your Majesty, the Sun of Preteria.”

The Emperor’s eyes wrinkled slightly. In place of the Emperor, who merely looked down at him with tightly sealed lips, Mikhail stepped forward.

“Theophane Sylvester, you must understand the meaning of your actions right now.”

“……”

“Stop this act that further insults His Majesty and this occasion.”

“Are you saying Sylvester shouldn’t be here?”

“Yes, you know it well.”

Theophane raised his head, and his eyes met those of Mikhail standing before him. Mikhail’s eyes, the same color as his daughter’s, flashed like those of a predator.

“Leave this place at once.”

Despite Mikhail’s warning, Theophane remained motionless, as if frozen in place.

Soon, instead of answering, he took something from his possession and placed the blue-glowing object next to the Agente crest.

“My goodness, do you see that? That’s…”

“Isn’t that the Sylvester crest?”

“It’s been exactly ten years since I’ve seen it.”

The audience stirred greatly once more. No one in this space failed to recognize what that object was. The Emperor, seeing Sylvester’s founding meritorious subject crest, finally spoke.

“Theophane, you… have brought Sylvester’s crest.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Forgive my rudeness.”

The founding meritorious subject crest, said to have been created by the first Emperor, was a symbol of the covenant between the imperial family and the two houses.

Now that Theophane had brought the founding meritorious subject crest, no one could object to his standing before the Emperor.

Gazes unsuited to the solemn situation were directed at Theophane. Rhys sensed the questions and unfamiliar reactions passing through the gaps between people.

However, such gazes could have no effect on Theophane, kneeling before the Emperor. Even the Emperor, with reluctant eyes, soon placed his hand on Theophane’s shoulder.

“How did Duke Theophane…”

Calles, watching them from beside Rhys, was also among those surprised by the unexpected appearance.

Rhys silently observed his reaction. It was only a matter of time before he figured out the whole story. He was a man unmatched when it came to thinking in such directions.

“…Rhys. As you know, His Grace Mikhail will not be pleased with this.”

“I’m sure. Father despises Sylvester terribly.”

“Yes, returning in this manner is rather…”

Calles, with a quite troubled expression, focused again on the unfamiliar scene.

The return of Sylvester. Rhys fell into quiet contemplation.

Sylvester had been an isolated, fading family in the empire for a long time. A family that everyone thought would quietly disappear had, after ten years, knelt before the Emperor again.

Theophane still maintained a face unmoved by anything. Mikhail also knelt beside him.

“May the Sun of Preteria shine eternally upon your two houses.”

The Emperor declared his blessing upon the two families.

As they listened to that solemn voice, the audience witnessed the beginning of a change that no one had wished for.

***

Clink! The sound of glasses clinking could be heard throughout the hall.

Rhys, holding a toast on the banquet stage, looked down at the interior of the hall.

Her scanning gaze stopped at a mother and daughter dressed in splendid matching dresses. They were Mrs. Garcia, Rhys’s relative, and her daughter Clemente.

They couldn’t say a word in front of Mikhail, but they persistently tormented Rhys, whose position in the family was precarious.

In reality, Mikhail was not a father who listened to his daughter’s words, and he paid no attention to anything outside his interest.

“Don’t you know that a daughter with such vulgar rumors only tarnishes her father’s reputation?”

Was it jealousy, or a simple game? The reason didn’t matter.

“Have you never learned the duties of a lady? Ah, that’s right. You never had a proper role model, did you, Lady…”

She was simply tired of hearing about her circumstances from others’ mouths.

After emptying her glass in one go to erase the memories that had surfaced, her head suddenly spun.

“Be careful.”

The Emperor, who was nearby, quietly cautioned Rhys as she placed her foot unsteadily. Rhys approached the Emperor, who was about to pass by, and bowed.

“I apologize, Your Majesty. I have something I wish to say.”

For a moment, the attention in the hall shifted to one side. Though each person was engaged in different conversations, they were all watching the same subject.

Feeling countless invisible gazes, Rhys calmly began to speak.

“Yes, Lady Agente. Tell me.”

“It’s about the land of Laskaria.”

“Hmm… that matter.”

Glancing briefly at the nobles gathered behind Rhys, the Emperor spoke again.

“This doesn’t seem like something you need to tell me. That is… a matter between your families, isn’t it?”

The Emperor withdrew from the conversation first, as if anticipating what Rhys was about to say.

Rhys raised her lowered head slightly to gauge the Emperor’s mood. In her previous life too, the Emperor had not been a confrontational figure.

While he didn’t encourage the two houses, considered as important as pillars next to the Sun of the Empire, to fight, he didn’t stop them either. He had punished the former heads of Sylvester appropriately for the crime of plotting treason but never clarified the truth.

The back of the Emperor, who always maintained an ambiguous attitude, was visible. Before he could completely leave, Rhys spoke again.

“I wish to speak of something more important than land ownership first. It’s a message from Viscountess Yellonia, Your Majesty. Would you listen?”