‘W-What is that? Why is he smiling like that?’

Startled by how his expression changed the moment he saw her, Isabel flinched. For a second, she feared he might do something outrageous again—like calling her name or acting wildly as he had before.

Fortunately, he was stopped by a guard before he could approach.

He shot an annoyed look at the soldier blocking his path, then turned his gaze back to Isabel.

‘He looks like a whining puppy.’

She thought absentmindedly—before quickly turning her head away, avoiding him.

“Oh my, how can he be so handsome?”

“The prince is handsome too, but that escort behind him is the one who caught my eye.”

“Sadly, it seems that escort has been turned away.”

The noblewomen sighed in disappointment.

When Isabel glanced over, he was no longer there.

“They say he’s a mercenary.”

“Just imagining being held once in that broad chest… how intoxicating it must be.”

‘Intoxicating? Hardly.’

He was insane.

Kissing a woman he had just met, pulling her into his arms, spouting nonsense—he was completely out of his mind.

Still…

Objectively speaking, his looks were undeniably striking.

No—beyond that, he was beautiful.

Especially those violet eyes, like polished gemstones.

Lost in thought, she found herself picturing him without realizing it—when the Marchioness Louise suddenly smiled faintly.

“It seems Prince Morita has business with you, Lady Isabel.”

At her words, Isabel lifted her head—

And indeed, Prince Morita was approaching her.

“We’ll excuse ourselves, hoho! Come now, let’s all step away!”

The noblewomen sighed in regret.

“Oh dear, I wanted to exchange a few words.”

“Let’s go have a drink over there instead!”

Marchioness Louise ushered away the reluctant ladies, clearing the space.

By then, Prince Morita had reached her and offered a formal greeting.

“Duchess of Francia, you are as radiant as ever today. It is as though all the starlight of the Calium Empire has been stolen by you.”

Under the warm glow of the lights, his blue hair shimmered.

Isabel quietly studied the smile lingering in his pale, sky-colored eyes—lighter even than his hair—before responding.

“You flatter me, Your Highness.”

“I don’t see the Duke of Francia.”

At the mention of Cedric, the faint smile on Isabel’s lips vanished instantly.

Still, she forced it back into place.

“He must remain at His Majesty’s side.”

“Ah, of course. His Majesty has yet to arrive, hasn’t he?”

Standing beside her, Prince Morita accepted a glass of wine from a passing attendant and glanced ahead.

The Emperor’s seat remained empty. Only Empress Aina and Margaret von Francia were seated in their places.

Elsewhere, the Crown Prince was laughing drunkenly, while the Crown Princess seemed to be quietly retreating from him.

Isabel recalled what Margaret had told her earlier—that the Emperor had no intention of attending the banquet, choosing instead to spend time in his chambers with his mistress, Suzanne.

It was clear—

He was disregarding the delegation. Or perhaps asserting dominance from the very beginning.

Suppressing her thoughts, Isabel replied evenly,

“I am sure His Majesty has personal matters to attend to.”

Prince Morita smiled, as though it did not trouble him.

“I am only thinking of how best to earn His Majesty’s favor. If all goes well, perhaps we can reduce the tribute required this year.”

Though his tone was gentle, the mockery beneath it was unmistakable.

Isabel understood perfectly.

The tribute demanded by the Calium Empire had grown heavier each year, placing increasing pressure on its vassal states.

Though he spoke as if it were a joke, it was no joke at all.

Isabel forced a smile.

“When the Empire’s circumstances improve…”

“Do you truly believe they will?”

Prince Morita turned his head and looked directly at her, letting the smile fade from his face.

Under his quiet, steady gaze, Isabel found herself unable to meet his eyes.

“It has already been decades since the land began to decay. Yet instead of improving, the contamination only worsens. And His Majesty, perhaps fearing that lowly nations like ours might take this opportunity to strengthen our forces, controls even the most trivial matters.”

“……”

“Given the Empire’s situation, we have no choice but to understand.”

“……”

“And yet, seeing it now, the capital of Anita seems to be in even better condition than it was three years ago. Such lavish fare… it makes even my own prosperous country seem poor by comparison. Hahaha!”

“…I understand the position of the Morita Kingdom. However, I would ask that you refrain from insulting the Empire. There are many ears listening, Your Highness.”

“Ah, it seems I’ve had a bit too much to drink and spoken out of turn. My country’s situation grows more difficult by the day, so I allowed myself a small complaint. I trust you’ll be understanding.”

The Morita Kingdom, located to the northeast of the Empire, was a small island nation abundant in seafood and provisions.

Yet no matter how prosperous it was, it still had to offer tribute each year to an empire many times its size.

Its situation needed no further explanation.

Isabel’s gaze drifted around the hall.

The tables overflowed with dazzling amounts of food and wine, and only the Empire’s nobles seemed to be enjoying the music and festivities.

The envoys who had come with Prince Morita did not look nearly as pleased.

“I had hoped to present our situation to His Majesty, but he has yet to appear since the banquet. Even when we request an audience, we are turned away time and time again.”

As Prince Morita spoke, Isabel lifted her glass and took a sip.

Even if he were granted an audience, the Emperor would likely show no interest in Morita’s situation.

On the contrary, he would probably scold them—saying that in times like these, the vassal states should unite and support the Empire.

That was how the Emperor had always been.

And how he would always be.

But…

Isabel could not bring herself to ignore the look on Prince Morita’s face.

“…There will be a swordsmanship tournament in a few days.”

There was no direct way for her to help him. Her own relationship with the Emperor was strained, making it impossible for her to arrange a private audience.

However, the Emperor—eager to display the Empire’s might to the delegation—would certainly attend the tournament.

With Margaret’s help, it might be possible to arrange a natural meeting then.

“If not on other days, he will certainly appear on that day. I will make arrangements for you then.”

“Thank you, my lady.”

At her words, Prince Morita smiled brightly.

Isabel returned the smile and subtly changed the subject.

“By the way… where did you find that mercenary?”

The moment the words left her lips, she felt a flicker of unease.

Why had she brought him up?

Prince Morita answered lightly, his tone teasing.

“I picked him up.”

“…Pardon?”

“Haha. I’m rather timid, you see, so I was introduced to someone quite capable. Just in case I might be eaten by a monster.”

“Since the land routes have all been blocked due to the contamination, you must have come by sea. I’m surprised you managed to encounter monsters that only appear in the central regions.”

As Isabel cast him a sidelong glance, Prince Morita replied without a hint of embarrassment.

“Even if one cannot see them, monsters are still frightening. Who knows? Perhaps one that swims well might appear.”

“Your Highness.”

Just then, an envoy from the Kingdom of Kerdium—another island nation neighboring Morita—approached Prince Morita.

Isabel gave a slight nod, signaling for him to go.

With an exaggerated bow, Prince Morita took his leave.

Left alone, Isabel held her glass and stepped outside for a breath of air.

“Why, if it isn’t the Duchess of Francia!”

But before she could even leave the corridor, someone intercepted her.

Staggering toward her in a disheveled state—someone she least wanted to encounter—was Crown Prince Joshua von Kaidus.

Isabel forced the expression on her face into a polite smile as she looked at him, his face flushed red like it was about to burst into flames.

“Your Highness, Crown Prince Joshua von Kaidus.”

Just as she bent gracefully in greeting, the staggering crown prince reached out toward her.

Isabel quickly stepped back.

The crown prince smacked his lips in disappointment, his half-lidded eyes lingering on her before curling into a grin.

“I’ve always thought so—you’re arrogant… and that’s what makes you beautiful.”

The stench of alcohol from his breath, so close to her face, made her stomach churn.

Fighting back the urge to retch, Isabel clenched the fabric of her skirt.

“It seems you’ve had too much to drink, Your Highness. You should return and rest.”

“Are you worried about me?”

He sounded genuinely touched—completely delusional.

Glancing around, Isabel searched for the imperial guards who should have escorted him away.

But strangely, not a single one was in sight.

The corridor was empty—not even a mouse in sight.

She swallowed a sigh.

Meanwhile, the crown prince continued rambling, proclaiming just how much he cared for her.

“That’s right! I’ve always worried about you as well! After all, you were meant to become my crown princess.”

With every word he slurred, the overpowering smell of alcohol assaulted her senses.

“Yes—surely it should have been you, not that worthless Rianna!”

“Her Highness the Crown Princess is far more beautiful and wise than me.”

“Hah! Beautiful and wise? That wretched woman? She has nothing to her name, and her temper—do you have any idea how vile it is?”

‘Is he describing himself?’

Suppressing the urge to sneer, Isabel forced a pleasant smile.

“That cannot be. Her Highness is known for her kindness. Even before her marriage, she was widely praised for it.”

“Famous for her filthy temper, more like! Heh heh!”

“…Your Highness, you should return inside. If the delegation sees you in such a state, it would be disgraceful—”

“My marriage is miserable!”

“…If you wish to discuss the unhappiness of your marriage, you may do so with your attendants. I will be taking my leave.”

She was already exhausted.

And now she had to endure the drunken ramblings of this insufferable crown prince.

“I will call for your attendants, so please remain here quietly.”

Having reached the limits of her patience, Isabel turned to leave—

But the crown prince, who had been lamenting his unhappy marriage, suddenly grabbed her arm with a sharp, forceful grip.

Startled, Isabel stumbled.

“What do you think you’re doing—!”

She was about to snap in irritation when he leaned in close, eyes gleaming, and spoke.

“Your marriage is just as miserable as mine, isn’t it? I’ve heard… that things between you and the Duke of Francia are not good.”