It was the Emperor’s birthday.

A long procession of carriages stretched from the castle gates and beyond as they arrived one after another for the grand celebratory banquet. The event was held at Bellisa Palace, widely regarded as the most beautiful residence after the imperial palace itself. Drawing inspiration from the renowned Gothic Avert Building, Bellisa Palace exuded a breathtaking grandeur that could be appreciated even from a distance.

The palace entrance was adorned with rare flowers and finely crafted sculptures. From within, the sound of lively music spilled into the night air. In the center of the grand hall, nobles moved gracefully in pairs, dancing in perfect rhythm to the music. Others stood in small groups along the walls, their voices low as they engaged in quiet conversation.

Most of the noblewomen wore hats. High society had recently embraced the new fashion of wearing extravagant, elegantly crafted headpieces, each one more elaborate than the last, as symbols of wealth and status.

“Look—the Grand Duke and his wife are arriving.”

When the noblewoman made her remark, all eyes turned towards the couple at once, as though they had rehearsed it in advance. The nobles’ eyes gleamed sharply as they scrutinized the two, seemingly intent on assessing and judging them.

Damian had swept all his hair back, revealing his forehead and brows more than usual. When the viscountess caught sight of the woman standing beside him, she smiled thinly.

“I suppose the woman beside him must be that ‘Blind Cinderella.’”

‘Cinderella.’ It was a nickname that had long been used in high society to describe Isabel.

It wasn’t because she had risen dramatically in status by marrying into high nobility on the strength of her beauty alone. Rather, it came from the way she first met Damian; a meeting that seemed to have stepped straight out of a fairy tale.

They had met at a masquerade ball.

At such events, it was customary to conceal one’s identity behind a mask, revealing neither one’s name nor rank until the very end. Neither Damian nor Isabel removed their masks before the night was over. Damian was simply too good at playing his part, and Isabel, having recently arrived in the capital from the countryside, did not know anyone there.

They parted without learning each other’s names or seeing each other’s faces. Yet, like the prince searching for Cinderella with the glass slipper she had left behind, Damian found Isabel again, guided by the mask she had dropped.

When this story spread, high society began calling her ‘Cinderella’.

But after the recent accident, the name changed. She became ‘Blind Cinderella’.

The duchess clicked her tongue at the sight of Bel, her face hidden beneath a white veil. Each time she moved, the extravagant peacock feathers adorning her hat trembled and fluttered, drawing even more attention to her display of excess.

“To attend a day like this with her face covered—one would think she was at a funeral.”

“Her once-beautiful eyes have been ruined, so she must be deeply heartbroken,” her daughter replied.

At this, the Duchess narrowed her eyes sharply. She was about to make another cutting remark when the Countess interrupted her.

“Oh my, I suppose you haven’t heard the rumor yet.”

“What rumor?”

“The reason the Grand Duchess covers her face isn’t because of her eyes, but in fact—”

“His Majesty Emperor Bohenvant approaches!”

Upon hearing the attendant’s thunderous announcement, the noblewomen who had been whispering behind their fans immediately composed themselves. The musicians fell silent and the dancers froze mid-step. Everyone bowed their heads in unison towards the Emperor.

Standing at his side was a woman dressed with modest yet refined elegance. Several people cast subtle glances in her direction, and the faint click of tongues in quiet disapproval could be heard from several corners of the hall.

She was the Emperor’s mistress.

The Emperor was notorious for his countless romantic affairs; there was never a time when a woman did not stand at his side. The woman he had brought tonight was his thirteenth.

With measured steps, the Emperor approached a lavish gold chair so opulent that the nobles could not help but think it might be the most expensive in the world. He lowered himself onto it with unhurried authority.

Moments later, the Empress entered.

Without sparing a glance for the woman beside him, she moved forward with serene composure and took her place on the chair prepared for her beside him. Not a flicker of emotion crossed her face.

When the Emperor raised his hand, the nobles slowly lifted their heads.

His deep, unreadable eyes swept across the grand hall. Then, at last, he spoke.

“You have all traveled far. You have my thanks.”

A benevolent smile touched his face. He began his brief speech by thanking those who had come to celebrate with him and offering prayers for the Empire’s prosperity and stability. He concluded by inviting everyone to enjoy themselves.

“Congratulations on Your Majesty’s birthday.”

Sitting on his golden throne, the emperor received lavish congratulations from the nobles. At some point, the woman beside him had climbed onto his lap. He wrapped his arm possessively around her waist, making her cheeks burn vividly red.

No one gasped. No one dared to condemn the indecent display.

Among the nobility, it was widely known that the thirteenth mistress did not reside on a remote estate, but in the imperial palace itself, by the emperor’s side. Such blatant favor meant that even the slightest careless remark was a dangerous risk.

Meanwhile, the Empress listened to the stream of flattery with perfect indifference, as though the Emperor’s conduct had no connection to her. Years spent surviving the frosty atmosphere of the imperial palace had taught her to hide her emotions.

In truth, she felt nothing.

Even if the Emperor’s companion had been a man instead of a woman, it would not have surprised her.

When she was younger, she had burned with anger and openly protested his behavior. But in time, she came to understand something important: for all his reckless indulgence, the Emperor was meticulous when it came to preventing unwanted heirs. Once she realized that, she stopped concerning herself with his private affairs.

Truthfully, the Empress herself had grown weary of the endless monotony of palace life. On occasion, she would even summon a young man to the palace for her own diversion.

For that reason, she was hardly in a position to judge.

She had been engaged in light conversation with the nobles when she noticed Damian approaching. At once, her expression shifted.

“We greet Your Majesty the Emperor and Your Majesty the Empress.”

The Emperor glanced at Damian and subtly removed his mistress from his lap.

‘Now he remembers decorum—because his nephew is here?’ the Empress scoffed inwardly.

“It has been a while. I am glad to see you. The child beside you must be the Grand Duchess.”

The Emperor’s and Empress’s gazes shifted from Damian to Bel. When Bel’s back stiffened, Damian tightened the arm wrapped around her waist—a silent reassurance not to be nervous.

“It is… an honor to stand before… the Empire’s most exalted sun, Your Majesty. Congratulations on your birthday.”

“You have my thanks.”

The Emperor offered a faint smile, but in his golden eyes the Empress clearly saw a trace of displeasure directed at Isabel. She watched the two of them closely, her gaze sharp and thoughtful.

The Emperor had once cherished his younger sister deeply. After her death, he naturally poured his affection onto her son. When it came to Damian’s future bride, the Emperor had envisioned someone of extraordinary beauty, intelligence, and health.

Instead, Damian had chosen the daughter of a minor noble family — and a blind woman. There was little about her that could satisfy the Emperor’s expectations.

And yet, he ought to be content.

After all, it was his nephew’s life. He was not Damian’s father and had no right to dictate the course of his marriage.

Although he often spoke of cherishing the boy, he had offered little more than the occasional display of affection. He had neither guided him nor shaped his future. He had no real authority to interfere with his nephew’s choices.

Above all, this was the woman who had captured the heart of a man who had never shown any interest in women before. The emperor had long assumed that Damian would remain a bachelor all his life. If she had succeeded in winning his heart, she must possess some remarkable quality that he had yet to perceive.

With that thought, he carefully smoothed out his expression.

“You make a fine pair. May only blessings lie ahead for the two of you.”

“Thank you.”

Perhaps displeased by how peaceful the atmosphere was, the Empress raised an eyebrow. She made no effort to hide her irritation.

“Does the Grand Duchess not see me?”

At the sound of the Empress’s elegant voice, Bel’s veil trembled visibly. She had been so tense that she had entirely forgotten that the Empress was there. She could not deny it.

“Ah, that’s right. You are blind. I forgot.”

The Empress spoke with deliberate mockery, emphasizing the word “blind.” Of the four present, not one failed to notice.

“Why have you fallen silent all of a sudden? I had heard well enough that you were blind, but I was never told you were mute.”

“Your Majesty.”

Damian’s displeasure at the Empress’s insolent remarks was plain to see. Yet the Empress did not so much as blink.

She had survived countless schemes to secure her position. Even before the formidable Dowager Empress, she had never conceded anything. In her eyes, Damian was still just a boy.

“Empress.”

When the nearby nobles sensed the strange tension between the four of them and turned their attention towards them, the Emperor shot them a sharp, warning glance. There was a hint of anger in his stern voice and his benevolent smile vanished in an instant.

There were limits to how much he could ignore of the Empress’s excesses. He usually overlooked things, but not today. She had chosen the wrong target for her spite.

“That is enough.”

Upon hearing the Emperor’s words, the Empress closed her crimson lips. She thought it was distasteful of a man who had brought his mistress into the banquet hall with no regard for propriety to now pretend to have solemn authority. However, not wishing to make matters worse, she remained silent.

“If it does not offend, we shall take our leave.”

According to custom, no one was permitted to rise before the Emperor. Yet he permitted it. If they stayed any longer, who knew what might happen?

After leaving the banquet hall, Damian tried to calm Bel down.

“She has always been like that. Please don’t let it trouble you.”

“Ah… yes…”

However, even after his quiet reassurance, Bel’s voice remained faint and subdued.

A flicker of regret passed through Damian. He should never have brought her here.

In truth, he hadn’t planned to attend the Emperor’s birthday celebrations at all. He was concerned about Bel’s health, and although the Emperor might have been disappointed, he was reasonable. He would have understood.

The real concern had been the Empress.

She would have used his absence from the imperial banquet as an excuse to cause them trouble. Damian himself could endure it, but Bel was different. He could not bear the thought of her fragile heart being drawn into pointless conflict because of the Empress’s schemes.

Had he known it would descend into this kind of chaos, even after his arrival, he would have ignored it entirely.

Damian clicked his tongue softly under his breath.

Making a silent vow never to bring Bel to the Imperial Palace again, he stepped forward.

—when a voice suddenly called out to him.