BVIB 23

Chapter 23

Arma Dianitas.

He was the third prince of the Dianitas Empire.

He was also the emperor’s illegitimate son.

The emperor, a man who made every decision with cold calculation, had only ever shown genuine affection to one woman—and Arma was her only child.

Arma’s birth had followed a difficult labor, after which the emperor had refused to risk her life for another child.

He truly loved Arma’s mother.

She alone could defy him without fear. She alone knew every facet of the emperor’s heart.

But she was not the empress.

She didn’t even live within the Imperial City.

Arma was considered illegitimate because the emperor never granted his mother a shred of power. Instead, he hid her away in a heavily guarded estate.

And after a devastating fire years ago, society believed she was dead.

That was the emperor’s decree—so she became, for all intents and purposes, a dead woman.

Arma grew up under the shadow of that label—bastard, outcast, forever whispered about behind his back.

But a dead woman cannot be killed.

A dead woman cannot be a rival.

In that way, Arma’s mother was the safest of all the emperor’s possessions.

How absurd, really—the most powerful man in the world, who lacked for nothing, cherished above all a commoner he’d met in secret.

It was almost laughable.

…Or so Arma mused, seated across from the emperor in private audience.

“So… you’re telling me to let Gil Robert go?”
The emperor, slouched on the sofa in disheveled attire, swirled a glass of liquor and chuckled quietly.

“Yes, Father,” Arma replied, bowing his head slightly.

A sheepish smile touched his handsome face, though a large gauze patch was still plastered openly across his cheek.

After yesterday’s events, the banquet had been postponed for two days. The situation had become complicated—thanks in part to the involvement of the Bellion Ducal House and, uncharacteristically, Arma’s own intervention.

Had he not stepped in, it would have ended as a simple squabble among nobles.

But the moment Arma became involved, it escalated to the level of lèse-majesté—a crime against the royal family.

Of course, Emperor Severus Jin Dianitas had no doubt that his sly youngest son had calculated every step.

“So, you’re saying you don’t want me to punish him for insulting royalty?”

“Yes… I doubt Baron Robert would want to lose his head over something like this.”

Perhaps it was more accurate to say the emperor was trying not to be suspicious.

“I made a mistake myself, after all…”
Arma scratched at his cheek with his index finger, embarrassment flickering across his features.

“A mistake?”
The emperor arched an eyebrow.

“Yes. Ahaha…”
Arma laughed awkwardly, looking for all the world as if he might burst into tears at any moment.

Emperor Severus, however, saw right through the act. He knew that this idiotic display, this helpless expression, was nothing but a performance.

Despite having the ability to surpass his less capable older brothers and seize the top position, Arma stubbornly insisted on playing the fool—all because he found the whole affair too troublesome.

But the emperor could tell that when Arma said “mistake,” he actually meant it this time.

For someone as calculating as he is to admit to a mistake?
The emperor narrowed his eyes, rubbing his chin as he tried to gauge the sincerity behind his son’s words.

“Well, if you—the party most affected—don’t mind, I’ll let him go,” the emperor replied, recalling the mountain of letters and petitions he’d received from Baron Robert.

“Poor Baron Robert,” he said, his tone utterly lacking in sympathy. “For a man of his stature, to have a son like that and no others…”

At over sixty, the baron would hardly beget another heir; the next Baron Robert would inevitably be that thoughtless fool of a son.

“Even if he’s a stickler, the old man did decent work. Hard to believe someone could fail at parenthood quite so spectacularly,” the emperor mused, a habitual, dry smile playing at his lips.

“Haha, Father, you’re one to talk…”
Arma shot him a wry look, as if to say, look who’s talking, and shrugged.

“I haven’t failed at all. In fact, I have something quite excellent right here in front of me,” the emperor replied lightly, waggling his fingers at Arma with a small, knowing grin.

Just then—

Knock, knock.

A presence appeared outside the door, followed by a crisp, polite knock.

Without changing his slouched posture or pausing his wine, the emperor tipped his head toward the door, signaling for Arma to see who it was.

“Come in,” Arma called, his expression gentle and warm.

The emperor shrugged lightly as he watched his youngest son—always so polite, even as a prince—maintain formal speech.

“What’s the big emergency interrupting a rare conversation with my son?” the emperor asked, his tone unusually casual for someone of his stature.

The soldier who entered bowed deeply, anxious. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I thought this needed immediate attention…”

“Oh… Has something happened?” Arma asked, affecting an air of innocent curiosity.

“It’s Lady Bellion, sir—she’s disappeared! One of the maids went to check on her and was so shocked, she came straight to report it—”

Clatter.

Arma half-rose from his seat but caught the emperor’s eye and hesitated.

The emperor’s gaze narrowed, sharp and calculating, as he caught even that tiny movement.

Ah, he thought to himself, raising his wine glass to his lips, a silent smile playing on his face.

Looks like I’ve found a story Silly will enjoy.

He thought of his hidden gem—someone he’d have to visit soon—and spoke slowly.

“Father, if you’ll excuse me…”

“But my youngest, your old man is bored. Won’t you keep me company a little longer and share another drink?” the emperor replied, his tone laced with amusement.

Catching the playful note in his father’s voice, Arma could only offer him a sheepish, awkward smile.

“There’s less information here than I expected,” Roselyn muttered under her breath.

Her plan to study up on Kaluta—its politics and culture—before her journey had hit a snag. All she knew came from hearsay, and she realized now just how little she understood about its customs and traditions.

Is it already this late?

The library had grown dim, shadows stretching across the floor. Only then did Roselyn notice she’d skipped lunch, her stomach giving a faint, reproachful twist as she stretched and stood.

She gathered the books she’d finished and was about to return them to the shelves when—

Thud.

The door, which she was certain had been closed, slammed shut again. Suddenly, a hand landed on her shoulder.

Roselyn’s eyes widened.

Instinctively, she tightened her grip on the heavy book in her hand, ready to swing at her unseen assailant.

“My lady…! There you are,” came a breathless voice.

“…Your Highness, the Third Prince?” Roselyn faltered, recognizing the young man with the conspicuous gauze still stuck to his cheek.

“What brings you here…?”

“You disappeared so suddenly that everyone’s been searching for you. I stumbled upon this place while looking for you myself,” Arma replied, offering an embarrassed smile, his cheeks flushed.

“It’s chaos out there. Especially the young duke and the duke—they’re both convinced you’ve been kidnapped or mysteriously vanished. The whole palace is… well…”

His voice trailed off, and Roselyn blinked in surprise at his words.

Her eyes widened further in disbelief.
“Don’t tell me… you turned the palace upside down?”

“No, not quite yet,” Arma replied.

But Roselyn caught something in his tone—a subtle implication. Not yet, but almost.

“…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I just lost track of time while reading,” she said, dipping her head in apology.

“It’s all right. I’ll let everyone know you’ve been found, right away,” Arma reassured her, his tone gentle, as if to ease her worries.

A faint scent of alcohol drifted from him.

“Wait, did you have a drink?” Roselyn asked, tilting her head.

“Oh, yes. My father—the emperor—asked me to join him. Is it that obvious?”
He looked dismayed, sniffing at his own sleeves, and even took a hesitant step back, as if worried the smell might offend her.

Roselyn shook her head slowly. “No, not at all.”

“Um, my lady…”
In the dimly lit library, now illuminated only by candlelight, Arma was standing surprisingly close.

“Yes?” Roselyn prompted, her voice soft.

Arma parted his lips as if to say something more, but no words came out.

Seeing his hesitation, Roselyn simply shrugged and spoke first. “Thank you for coming to look for me. I should get going before I cause any more trouble.”

Her thoughts drifted to her father, who made a point of visiting her room at least once a day. She frowned, imagining how he must be faring at this very moment.

…Calling him weak-minded, she thought, a little amused at herself.

The thought made her smile, just a little.

Roselyn recalled how her father had always seemed so imposing and terrifying to her—a man who was hard to approach, someone she had feared.

If there’s been a commotion, it’s probably because Father has caused some sort of scene again, she mused, though in truth, he was never the sort to stir up trouble.

As she was about to leave the library, Arma’s voice stopped her.

“I heard you’ll be joining the Kaluta delegation. Would it… would it be all right if I came along too?”

Roselyn paused mid-step, turning to look at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion, before shaking her head.

“No, I don’t think so.”

As if that would ever happen, she thought briefly before opening the door and stepping out into the hall.