Chapter 271: Choose your price..Interlude
The imperial palace stood as the crown jewel of the empire, positioned at the very heart of its sprawling capital.
Its sheer size and grandeur dwarfed any known architecture of the current era, a marvel that left even seasoned travelers awestruck.
From the towering spires to the intricate carvings on its outer walls, every inch of the palace exuded a sense of unparalleled majesty and power, a testament to the empire's might and legacy.
To gain entry into such a bastion of imperial pride, one needed to meet one of three stringent qualifications.
Member of the Imperial Family - Those bearing the bloodline of the empire were, of course, afforded free access.
High-Ranking Nobility - Only nobles of marquis rank or higher, actively serving within the imperial government, were allowed beyond the gates.
High-Ranking Officials - This included esteemed individuals such as senior military officers, elite knights, and powerful mages, whose roles directly supported the empire's structure.
Even with these strict criteria, entering the palace was no trivial feat.
Designed to be utterly impenetrable, the palace was fortified by layers of magical defenses rivaling the most advanced spells an archmage could conjure.
Each barrier was calibrated to resist both physical and arcane assaults, ensuring the safety of the imperial family and its treasures.
It stood not only as a seat of governance but as an unyielding symbol of the empire's supremacy-an image of invincibility that echoed its claim as the most powerful nation in the world.
The awe I felt while gazing at its magnificence from the outside was undeniable, but as I stood there, sunlight filtering through the morning haze, my focus shifted.
The soft, golden rays caressed the pristine marble, a stark contrast to the imposing aura of the palace.
Yet, even the grandeur of the palace couldn't overshadow the sheer presence of what now lay before me.
The doors to the Imperial Throne Room.
Massive and intricately designed, they were more than just a portal to the seat of power- they were a statement.
Standing before them, I felt a momentary pause in my thoughts, the weight of the palace's history and significance pressing down on me.
"Uhm...?"
Hearing the soft voice behind me, I turned to find Princess Sophiel standing there, a slightly gloomy expression clouding her features. Her nervous gaze met mine, hesitant yet searching for something.
"Was the small tour of any good, perhaps?"
"Ah, yes... it was fun and informative, Princess,"
"I-Is that so? Fuu~ Here I thought I was being a bore. Fufu~"
Relieved by my response, Princess Sophiel let out a small sigh, her lips curling into a gentle smile. She seemed genuinely comforted by my words.
That's right—at the moment, I was being meticulously escorted around the grand imperial palace by none other than Princess Sophiel herself.
This personal tour was her way of making amends for the "incident" that had transpired yesterday.
"Princess, why are you here?"
"A-Ah, duke... it's because Fath- I mean, His Imperial Majesty asked me to remind you about tomorrow's preparations. And..." She hesitated, her voice softening further. "He would also like to speak with you privately."
"I see... well, it looks like our small little talk has come to an end, son. The Emperor calls, after all. Princess, since I'm going to be a bit busy tomorrow, would you mind helping Riley get accustomed to the palace before the event?"
"B-But-"
"I'll gladly forget everything that happened here if you do so-"
"Meeting His Majesty is serious business," she said, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and mild disapproval. "Yet you act as though it's nothing. That kind of composure... it's rare."
I simply smiled, choosing not to elaborate.
'We're strangers to begin with...'
There was no need to explain myself to her, especially since she wouldn't believe the truth
even if I told her. Instead, I let her words hang in the air as I turned my attention back to the
grand doors ahead.
"Let's not keep His Majesty waiting," I said, gesturing for her to lead the way.
CREAAACKK!!!
Ass the doors opened... I gulped.
Genuinely hoping that he wasn't aware of my relationship with Snow....
...
"Strange reports... Shadow Knights failing... incidents in the academy... Riley Hell," Sophiel murmured, her voice laced with frustration. "I had thought things were about to settle down now that Elder Sister went to the academy, but I guess I took the small peace I had for granted, huh? Maybe I should've made a few big moves while I still could. Now most of my
plans are delayed..."
The night outside was bitterly cold, but her room was warm and illuminated by a soft,
ethereal glow.
Blue lights shimmered around her, casting an almost magical hue over the intricately
furnished chamber.
Sitting at her desk, Sophiel combed through the documents laid out before her, each one meticulously detailed to her exacting standards.
They were all reports-news about the boy she had met just yesterday.
'Riley Hell' Her half-lidded eyes scanned the pages, narrowing slightly as she absorbed their contents.
The information painted a far more complex picture than the initial impression she'd formed.
Crossing her legs elegantly, she leaned back in her chair, the papers still in her hand.
Her expression shifted, a curious mix of calculation and unease settling on her features. The more she read, the more contradictions emerged. This boy, who seemed so unassuming during their encounters, was proving to be an enigma.
Behind her, her personal maid, Lumia, hovered silently, her posture taut.
She knew better than to disturb her mistress during moments like these.
It wasn't the lofty elegance and carefully veiled arrogance that froze her in place-it was the
cold, purplish mana that emanated from Sophiel, subtly seeping into the air and chilling the room despite the warmth of the fire.
'The Fool Princess' Lumia thought, shaking her head slightly.
The irony of the title was not lost on her.
To the outside world, her mistress was dismissed as a bumbling, naive member of the
imperial family, a title she had earned-or rather, crafted-through years of deliberate misdirection.Nôv(el)B\\jnn