Her father had changed.

The transformation of Duke Rahins into such an arrogant figure began after he thrust her into the imperial palace.

Ever since he started believing that not only the nobility but even the emperor himself was under his control, he began to don an ill-fitting mask of magnanimity.

‘If not for me, you wouldn’t even dare to smile so complacently in this place.’

The empress tugged at her lips, imagining—without hesitation—her hands tightening around her father’s throat.

Despite being the Empress of the Empire, it was humiliating to still have to walk on eggshells around the duke.

“It doesn’t hurt to take precautions,” she said calmly.

“There’s no need to create an opportunity for the emperor to act,” the duke retorted. “After all, we already have the crown prince in our corner. Why rush unnecessarily?”

And so it began again.

The empress bit her lip hard as Count Havel interjected, his frustration evident.

“The crown prince is only six years old. We may have to wait over 20 years for him to come of age.”

“Is that so hard to endure?” the duke scoffed. “The emperor has no other children besides the crown prince. Even if he takes a concubine, the likelihood of their child being named heir is extremely slim. Time will kneel to us; why the needless fretting?”

The duke’s reasoning was something she had heard ad nauseam since the birth of the crown prince, and in many ways, it made sense.

But the empress could not stomach the thought of sharing power with Emperor Raodin.

They say the more power you have, the more you crave.

She wanted nothing more than to remove the emperor from her sight—sooner rather than later. That arrogant, tyrannical man.

“Do not cause unnecessary disturbances that might upset His Majesty the Emperor,” Duke Rahins warned sternly. “He governs the empire that will one day pass to the crown prince.”

His tone was an unyielding caution. The duke stood, signaling his intent to end the conversation.

At that moment, one of the emperor’s attendants knocked on the lounge door and announced, “Your Grace Duke Rahins, His Majesty the Emperor requests your presence.”

“Inform him that I’m on my way,” the duke replied, adjusting his attire.

The empress glanced up at him, momentarily dazed by his elegant movements, like a peacock preening its feathers.

‘Whose side are you really on, Father?’

It was a question she had never dared voice aloud.

This was the father who had coldly pushed his own child into the emperor’s arms, forcing her into a position beside the man she loathed. The same father who had once told her to cultivate patience when she agonized over her inability to conceive an heir.

The only time she had seen a shadow of concern on his face was after she removed Sasha Meinel, a thorn in her side.

“Was that truly necessary?” he had asked her then.

This was a man who would have otherwise praised her for eliminating anything or anyone troublesome without hesitation—a principle he himself had instilled in her.

She had spent her life striving for his approval.

But now, his transformation filled her with revulsion and even hatred.

“Forgive me for taking my leave first. Stay in good health,” said the duke as he departed.

His manner left no doubt—he would leave all the filth and ugliness for her to handle.

‘Did you think I wouldn’t notice your schemes?’

The empress had to expend great effort to suppress the fiery rage that clawed at her throat.

Count Havel clicked his tongue and broke the silence. “My brother truly is a complacent man. How could he dismiss the navy’s influence? There are nobles quietly aligning themselves with their cause. This could diminish our position significantly.”

“……”

“At this rate, we risk being slowly but surely consumed. Even now, a mere commoner dares to meddle in noble affairs.”

Havel was outraged, not just because of Adrian’s increasing influence but because he was of common birth. Many nobles who sided with Havel shared this indignation.

“We cannot let this go unchecked, Your Majesty. We must act,” he urged.

“You needn’t worry, Count. I have already taken steps to tarnish the baron’s reputation,” she replied with a faint smile.

“Oh? Do you have something in mind?” Havel’s eyes gleamed with curiosity.

The empress nodded, a small satisfaction creeping into her tone. “He foolishly broke off an engagement once. Are you familiar with Viscount Dallas?”

“The viscount’s wife…?”

The count’s expression turned intrigued, and the empress gave a knowing nod.

“I’ve had some enlightening conversations with Lady Dallas. She doesn’t appear particularly shrewd.”

“Ah, excellent. There’s nothing like a scandal involving an old lover to ruin a wedding. Well done. I shall explore additional measures.”

“Additional measures?”

“Weddings are overseen by the church. Applying pressure there could create quite an entertaining spectacle.”

Havel sipped his tea, clearly pleased with his idea. For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, the empress felt a measure of reassurance.

She detested being disregarded more than anything and loved praise. While her father’s approval had once been her greatest desire, she found that her uncle’s commendation thrilled her in its own way.

Feigning a conspiratorial tone, Havel added, “For all his outward decorum, if we succeed, even my brother will be pleased with us.”

The empress sincerely hoped he was right.

***

“Have you been waiting long?”

“Not too long,” Fabian replied with a sly grin, lightly swirling his coffee cup.

Edward hung his jacket over the back of his chair and took a seat across from him. Soon, a cup of coffee was placed before Edward as well.

“First time at a social club?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not as impressive as it seems. No need to feel overwhelmed.”

“It doesn’t quite look that way,” Edward replied softly, taking a sip of his coffee. His face twisted slightly as he glanced down at the cup.

The coffee, a popular trend at the social club, was unbearably bitter to Edward’s taste.

“It seems the exotic brew doesn’t agree with you. Once you get used to it, you’ll find it quite fragrant.”

“I’m not sure I’ll live to see that day.”

Edward set the cup down on the table and quietly observed the room.

Men, cigars perched in their mouths, lazily read newspapers or sipped coffee. By nightfall, they’d trade coffee for liquor and indulge in card games.

Most of them were second or third sons of noble families, forming groups of like-minded individuals to box, hunt, or gamble on horse races.

Inevitably, cliques formed, and they filled their time with idle gossip within their circles.

These men, freed from the obligations of being the primary heirs, lived indulgent lives, free of the need to accomplish much of anything.

“I heard you were granted an audience with His Majesty the Emperor. Unfortunately, it was my day off, so I missed the event. I hear you played chess with him?”

“Yes.”

“And who won?”

“I did.”

“Really?”

Despite Edward’s calm response, Fabian couldn’t hide his astonishment.

“Are you serious? His Majesty is a formidable player. How did you manage to beat him?”

“If I told you, wouldn’t that just fuel more strange rumors?”

“Do you really think I’d spread such gossip about you? What do you take me for?”

“From what Her Majesty the Empress said, it seems there’s hardly anyone in society whose word can be trusted.”

Edward glanced around, catching the eyes of others before shrugging lightly.

As if on cue, voices drifted from a distant corner of the room.

“Did you hear? Count Havel’s been persuading nobles one by one.”

“I heard the rumors too. Apparently, His Majesty wants to bring a woman into court society.”

“And is it true that she’s a commoner?”

“Could it be… his…?”

The voices trailed off, but it was clear they didn’t care who might overhear them.

Fabian smirked bitterly, seeming to grasp Edward’s earlier point, and lowered his voice. For a brief moment, it sounded as though he was grinding his teeth.

“Understood. I won’t say another word. That damned woman must be scheming something again.”

“……”

“Still, you can trust me. If anyone dares disrupt my little sister’s happiness, I’ll crush them limb by limb.”

Fabian glared toward the direction of the imperial palace before taking a sip of coffee. After a pause, he exhaled a quiet sigh and spoke again.

“Marriage isn’t easy, is it? Just for the record, it was even worse when I got married.”

“You, Lord Fabian?”

“Please, call me Fabian. Using my title feels too distant.”

“…Very well, Fabian.”

Fabian grinned broadly, clearly pleased to hear his name spoken.

“For the record, my situation was the complete opposite. My wife’s father held a title in name only, and the entire social circle fiercely opposed the match. That’s when I first realized just how many people in the Empire carried noble titles.”

“That must have been… challenging.”

Edward’s expression betrayed his surprise as he recalled Fabian’s lively and bright wife. He had always thought of her as the quintessential noblewoman and never imagined such a backstory.

“I didn’t care. To hell with the social scene—I had no need to be part of it.”

“Your sister’s situation seems a bit different, doesn’t it?”

“Yedi’s not all that different. She doesn’t enjoy talking to pompous nobles either.”

“……”

Edward hesitated, unable to respond immediately. Fabian, seemingly amused by Edward’s silence, continued as if stating the obvious.