TFLMLD 64

Chapter 64

Crown Prince Selection (feat. Sister-in-Law’s Provocation)

One of the palace attendants somehow learned about Macaron and hurried inside to report it. Soon, the golden doors opened. Murmurs continued from within, and the tension made my hands sweat. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, Macaron grasped my hand firmly.

“Trust me.”

His gentle voice lingered in my ears, and the tension that had gripped me slowly melted away. I linked my arm with his as he naturally extended it, and he began to walk. The moment we stepped into the Grand Hall, all the major nobles of the empire turned their eyes toward us. Every step we took was followed by countless gazes scrutinizing us like arrows. The sheer weight of all those eyes made my steps heavy. Fortunately, the nobles seemed more intrigued by Macaron’s survival than by me. The thick silence in the palace showed just how shocked they were.

“To think His Highness was alive…”

The nobles’ faces alternated sharply between joy and despair. Many of them were familiar from the previous birthday party, so their faces weren’t entirely unknown. Having memorized their families, names, and tendencies in preparation for unforeseen situations, I didn’t feel entirely alien to even the unfamiliar faces. Stepping forward along the long red carpet while scanning the nobles, we reached the first prince and princess. First Prince Rainer Craide and Princess Reilin Craide stood there, stunned. Their pale, shocked faces spoke volumes.

‘Of course, they must have thought Macaron was dead.’

The two couldn’t take their eyes off Macaron as if a ghost had returned to life. Macaron and Rainer, being brothers, shared some resemblance, but their overall aura was strangely opposite. If Macaron carried an image of gentle charisma, Rainer exuded a cold, frost-like aura. His lean frame, twisted smirk, and sharp eyes were accentuated by his overly ornate clothing and hairstyle. Unlike Macaron, who wore neat and dignified attire, Rainer sported epaulets with embedded tiaras, a flamboyant style. Princess Reilin, standing beside him, was equally attention-grabbing. Her dazzling tiara and voluminous dress drew all eyes to her with even the slightest movement. Just as her appearance lived up to the fame of the Clares dukedom, Reilin was aristocracy through and through.

Turning my gaze, I recognized a face I knew well:

‘Emperor Solentin Craide.’

• Among the qualities of an emperor, the most important is the ability to secure what is theirs by any means, sweeping away opposition. That had been Solentin’s iron rule throughout his reign. Rainer Craide was a perfect reflection of that. Yet Macaron was so distinctly different that it was hard to believe he was his son.

‘Well, after all, he was the type to refuse the throne if offered.’

Solentin had hoped Macaron would succeed the throne. The son’s talent, able to turn abandoned territories into flourishing lands, made even Solentin admit his capabilities despite his own incompetence. There were times when he felt unworthy as a father, but he understood better than anyone which of his sons, Rainer or Macaron, would benefit the Roman Empire more. If Rainer ascended the throne, the palace would be swept with bloodshed—but Macaron was not that kind. Yet even with such extraordinary talent, Solentin could not force him to accept it. He could attempt persuasion as a father, but even that seemed futile. It was natural that Macaron treated him as an emperor rather than as a father, having never been treated as a son. Solentin had no right to persuade Macaron about any future, except through imperial command. In his younger days, Solentin might have enforced it harshly, but age and regret now restrained him. And he knew Macaron would not obey even then. Ultimately, Solentin faced a cruel time limit—life itself pressing him—and what weighed most on his mind was Rainer and Macaron. Fate was cruel: news of Macaron’s death reached him, causing him immense pain. Then, secretly, news arrived that his son was alive—and planning to participate in the Crown Prince Selection. Though he didn’t know the reason for Macaron’s change of heart, Solentin thanked the heavens and awaited the day.

However, seeing Calypso standing by Macaron made Solentin’s heart sink.

‘He actually brought his wife from a viscount family here on such an important day… is he sane?’

Solentin never imagined Macaron would bring Calypso on this crucial day.

‘So their closeness wasn’t an act after all…?’

Solentin steadied his collapsing heart and looked at Calypso with resigned eyes. * The throne was a short distance away, but the presence of its owner was breathtaking. Firm lips and strong eyes conveyed a completely different impression from Macaron. Solentin, having already received news of Macaron’s survival and participation, appeared calm compared to other nobles. Meanwhile, Empress Achille, standing beside him, looked so shocked she forgot formalities. Her face was visibly stiff. Yet when her eyes met Macaron’s, a peculiar light crossed her expression.

“I didn’t think you’d come. I’m glad you arrived safely, Your Highness.”

Macaron revealed a sharp, merciless smile I had never seen before.

“How could I not come to the seat prepared for me?”

“……”

“I apologize for causing concern.”

At Macaron’s thorny remark, a visible crack appeared on Empress Achille’s faint smile. The things she had told Macaron were mostly cruel. In public, she behaved like a gentle empress, but behind that façade lay a brutal desire. Macaron constantly mocked her. Watching him calmly, Emperor Solentin offered a rather gentle greeting.

“It’s been a while. You didn’t even come to greet me at your wedding.”

But Macaron treated Solentin only as the emperor, not as his father.

“Second Prince, Macaron Craide. I pay my respects, Your Majesty.”

Given Macaron’s past, this was unsurprising. A fleeting sadness crossed the emperor’s eyes, but that was all. It seemed he knew it was too late to undo the fractured past. One cannot now build the affection of family from memories that never existed.

While the brief greeting concluded, the nobles’ attention gradually shifted from Macaron to me. They had already investigated me, so murmurs about my “viscount background,” “divorce history,” and “child” floated around. Among the nobles who had attended the birthday party at the Craide mansion, I wasn’t completely unfamiliar. Yet the long-established social connections and the sudden intrusion of someone like me into their world were very different. Moreover, with the recent incident involving Chief Seira, I was linked to it, drawing negative attention. Honestly, my standing among the nobles was likely worse than ever. Even having anticipated this countless times, it was hard to adapt. Thankfully, I had mitigated some shock by briefly greeting them at the birthday party. Still, the sharp eyes scrutinizing me made my heart tighten under pressure.

Then, I felt a particularly strong gaze examining me.

‘Reilin Clares.’

Turning my head, I met her characteristic piercing blue eyes full of hostility. She didn’t flinch despite our gaze meeting. Her aristocratic flowing blond hair and icy blue eyes exuded an arrogant impression. Reilin’s gaze swept me from head to toe, assessing me with clear disdain. Within moments, she curled one corner of her lips.

“Mrs. Calypso, it must have been very difficult for you. Are you well?”

Her voice, loud enough for everyone to hear, drew all eyes. Was she referring to Seira? Given the nature of the Crown Prince Selection, the tone was sharp.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Regarding the matter of the servant’s death…”

I could already guess Reilin’s intent in bringing this up before the nobles. Her slightly curled lips were subtly visible from my angle. After a brief pause, she covered her mouth and continued with a sly tone.

“Oh, perhaps this isn’t the place to discuss it.”

Fanning herself delicately, Reilin feigned concern as if apologizing, typical social maneuvering in the aristocracy. Boldly addressing something they themselves caused so publicly—her shamelessness added fuel to the nobles’ interest. Showing any sign of agitation would reflect poorly, so I maintained a composed smile.

“No, regarding that matter, there’s no need for concern.”

Third parties interpret events as they wish. Among the nobles, many already believed the Seira incident as reported in the news. Maintaining a calm, smiling expression was easy enough—it was expected. Reilin, maintaining her poised stance, added:

“I noticed your name came up frequently in the servant’s will…”

“……”

“I was just concerned, but I apologize if I’ve caused discomfort.”