Chapter 31: Intense Mind Games

The nobles gathered in the salon were busy discussing matters of the Vasker Empire.

Whenever politics or business came up, it felt so tedious that one might yawn.

Each time, the Marchioness of Durenburg would interject with a light joke to lift the mood.

By the time the conversation had warmed up over tea and sweets, Esika suddenly grew curious.

“Have the other guests in the garden been very busy today?”

Since the imperial ball, Vasker nobles had been eagerly inviting the garden’s distinguished guests to their own social gatherings.

Apparently, Princess Rachel and the Viscount of Belkain were busy fostering connections with the Vasker aristocracy.

But why, Esika wondered, was she the only guest invited to the salon today?

The Marchioness of Durenburg nodded knowingly and said,
“Actually, Your Highness, you are the only one invited to the salon today.”

“Why is that?”

Fanning herself gently, the Marchioness whispered,
“After all, one cannot invite just anyone to our salon.”

Esika mulled over her words, forcing herself to suppress a smirk.

‘So… what she’s really saying is that the other garden guests aren’t distinguished enough to be invited to the Durenburg salon?’

The Viscountess Seiren.

Recalling the purple-eyed noble who had looked down on her in the dining room, Esika furrowed her brows slightly.

“Please tell me you’re not upset that only the princess was invited?”

The Marchioness of Durenburg watched Esika’s expression carefully as she spoke.

Her attentive concern lifted Esika’s spirits somewhat.

The Durenburg family was prestigious even within Vasker, and the Marchioness was the reigning queen of the social scene.

To enter society smoothly, one needed the right backing, and in that regard, the Marchioness was perfect.

If Esika could build a friendship with her, the rest of her life as a hostage would be considerably easier.

At first, Esika had been cautious, worried her false princess identity might be exposed.

But those worries proved unnecessary—no Vasker nobles had ties to the real Princess Solti.

Once she realized this, Esika relaxed and began integrating herself into Vasker society.

“I truly cannot express how delighted I am to receive your invitation, Lady Marchioness.”

It was a flattering remark, something a lower-ranked person might say, but Esika didn’t notice.

“It is an honor that Your Highness is pleased,” replied the Marchioness.

From the moment the princess entered the salon, the Marchioness had carefully observed her every gesture, tone, and expression.

It was because of the recent rumors surrounding the princess.

Rumors that she had been seen with the Emperor himself.

“How could she have captured the heart of that cold-blooded Emperor?”

The Marchioness concluded that the Princess of Solti had not won the Emperor’s favor solely through beauty.

The young ladies of Paradium were by no means lacking in looks, and they carried a poise that even reminded her of the late Empress.

Having instructed many noble daughters in etiquette, she trusted her judgment.

And yet, there was something subtly off about the Princess of Solti.

Though her manners were impeccable, she carried a faintly awkward aura, as if she had undergone just a few months of intensive etiquette training.

‘Hmm…’

She recalled the rumor that the King of Solti doted on his daughter, which might explain her slightly lively, innocent demeanor.

Smiling as she appraised the princess, the Marchioness signaled to her young attendant.

Before investigating the Emperor’s relationship with the princess, she needed to lower the girl’s guard.

‘There’s nothing better for opening her heart.’

The young attendant offered the princess some wine.

“This is reserved wine, kept only for someone as distinguished as Your Highness.”

Esika smiled at the Marchioness’s words.

“Then I’ll just have a single glass, shall I?”

Though she claimed she would drink just one, she emptied the glass as if ready to finish the entire bottle.

The wine was expensive enough to be served at the Imperial Court, but the Marchioness didn’t regret it for a moment.

‘If the princess is to become Vasker’s next empress, this is a small price to pay.’

When the princess’s cheeks flushed pink from sipping the wine, the Marchioness dangled her bait before addressing the main point.

“Actually, this was the first time His Majesty danced with a partner at the palace ball.”

At this, the princess’s expression shifted. The Marchioness seized the opportunity to continue.

“Some people are whispering that perhaps His Majesty was taken with the guest from Paradium.”

Though the princess still wore a faint smile, her eyes betrayed discomfort.

The Marchioness leaned closer and spoke candidly.

“But I don’t think that’s the case. In terms of beauty, status, and character, none of the Paradium guests surpass you, Your Highness.”

“Is that so?”

Esika gazed warmly at the noblewoman, amused by her timid, fawning tone.

‘She thinks this sweet little drink will get me tipsy, does she?’

Esika had a peculiarity—though her face flushed quickly, making her seem delicate, she was actually immune to alcohol.

So she was very much sober and merely pretending to be drunk to coax the Marchioness into opening up.

Moreover, the noblewoman’s shy whispers made Esika’s mood pleasantly light.

“Of course. You don’t think I would lie, do you?”

“Of course you speak sincerely,” Esika replied, cupping her cheeks shyly and adding,
“Since you are showing such honesty, I feel I can be a little honest too…”

“…?”

“Actually, I had a minor conflict with a guest from the Western Territories.”

“Oh my! Really? Something like that happened?”

The Marchioness’s smile deepened.

“No wonder I had a feeling we would get along well. Would you tell me what happened?”

As Icar left the meeting room, Dehan lowered his voice.

“Your Majesty… regarding the Princess of Solti…”

At the words “Princess of Solti,” Icar’s otherwise composed brow twitched slightly.

“She asked if it would be alright to hold a tea party in the palace garden.”

Recalling the restless woman fluttering around like a colt, Icar felt a surge of irritation.

“Always making a fuss.”

Though he could justify launching a war on Solti for sending a fake princess to deceive Vasker, now was not the right time.

Soon, the dry season would arrive in Vasker.

During the wet season, they stockpiled food; during the dry season, they consumed those reserves, preparing for the next wet season.

The three-year peace agreements with neighboring countries had largely been arranged for this reason.

Under the previous emperor, Vasker had limited foreign exchanges, allowing them to keep internal affairs secret.

Now, with some foreign relations open, it was only a matter of time before surrounding nations learned of Vasker’s situation.

If the fake princess did not cause a disturbance, Icar intended to let her be until the peace agreement ended.

Of course, once it ended, Solti would be the first to face retribution.

“Your Majesty, shall I tell the princess it’s not permitted?” Dehan asked cautiously.

Icar, walking silently ahead, replied flatly,
“Do so.”

He had already told other guests that tea parties or balls in the palace were allowed.

Refusing the fake princess’s request simply because he disliked Solti would be unfair.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

As they neared the office, the guards at the door bowed and opened it.

Vane, looking up from his documents, spoke.

“Your Majesty, the guest room construction has been completed.”

“Dehan, what’s the schedule for today?”

Dehan listed the day’s appointments in order.

“After reviewing the documents on your desk, you have lunch with the Duke of Venderfelt, followed by a brief meeting with Merchants Pravel and the Marquis of Saltz…”

Icar raised a hand, signaling him to stop, and Dehan quickly adjusted the schedule.

“If well-coordinated, there should be a 30-minute window.”

Icar nodded approvingly, and Dehan asked,
“Shall I confirm with Viscountess Seiren if that time is convenient?”

“Very well.”

Once Dehan left the office, Icar sat at his desk to review documents.

Icar’s work pace was already astonishingly fast, but today it was near the speed of light.

He had promised to inspect the newly built guest rooms with Reneb before lunch.

After clearing the piles of documents, he rose, prompting both Dehan and Vane, who had been seated, to look up.

“Your Majesty, are you going to see Viscountess Seiren now?”

Clad in his jacket, Icar glanced at them confidently.

“It is only proper for the Emperor to personally inspect the guest rooms for any deficiencies.”

Since ascending the throne, the palace had changed greatly.

Statues of former emperors, which had taken up unnecessary space, were moved to corners, replaced with facilities for staff and guards.

Various research facilities had also been added.

True to his practical nature, Icar prioritized facilities that benefited the empire’s development and removed relics of past glories.

Even Dehan and Vane recognized the logic in these changes.

Yet, whenever old structures were replaced with new ones, Icar consistently showed a peculiar habit:

He would scrutinize blueprints and materials in detail but rarely visited completed spaces personally.

He might glance at them if passing by, but this was the first time he personally inspected a newly completed guest room.

With expressions full of things they wanted to say, Dehan and Vane nodded repeatedly like submissive courtiers.

“Of course! The staff responsible for the guest room construction will be extremely proud if Your Majesty inspects it personally.”

“Exactly!”

Icar buttoned the collar of his shirt, nodding, and Vane seemed about to follow him.

“Go alone.”

Vane remained in a half-sitting, half-standing posture, replying awkwardly,
“Yes, Your Majesty. Please do proceed.”