“Let’s start with the eldest son… Yes, Alexius, you speak first.”
“… You mean my opinion?”
Tsk.
A slight click of the tongue was heard at the lukewarm response.
Alexius flinched instinctively.
“Don’t hesitate.”
He quickly resumed reading the letter with slightly unsettled eyes.
At the eldest son’s stiffened demeanor, Contrat’s brows naturally furrowed.
“First—Marquis Mephisto is, as you know, the Emperor’s closest confidant. He is also called the Emperor’s right-hand man…”
“Spare us what we all already know, and get to the point.”
“… Yes, the letter sent by Mephisto is something we view positively from our perspective. Isn’t it proof that the Empire has begun to take Arian’s stance into consideration?”
“Hmm.”
Contrat crossed his arms and fell into thought for a moment.
Alexius swallowed involuntarily.
Though not his first time, experiences like this still made him nervous.
“Go on. In more detail.”
Had he come close to the correct answer?
At his father’s seemingly interested reaction, a flush of excitement appeared on the eldest son’s face.
“Yes. The Empire is in the midst of a long civil war. So, for better or worse, they have to consider the two imperial princes. Given the circumstances, Arian’s position as a victor is natural. The Empire wouldn’t want to be completely at odds with us. In other words, we have become an important presence to both the second prince and the first prince.”
The conversation, slightly excited, continued steadily.
Contrat listened to his opinion until the end, and Alexius’s confidence grew even stronger.
“Simply to save face for us?”
“Yes. Otherwise, would Marquis Mephisto have sent this letter personally? His intentions are practically the Emperor’s own.”
“Alright, is that your opinion?”
“Yeah.”
His father’s indifferent gaze passed over the eldest son.
Then it stopped on his daughter.
“And you? Are you going to follow your brother’s opinion again this time?”
Britani frowned at the disapproving tone.
“… Father, this isn’t really my area of expertise. You know that.”
As if questioning, Contrat also frowned.
“Your area? That’s ridiculous. Is your daily job just going to salons and hanging around?”
His slightly raised voice—and the unfamiliar harshness in his eyes—made Britani bite her lip unconsciously.
“No, I’m not just going out to have fun—.”
“Enough! So what exactly is your opinion?”
“… I agree with my brother. I think the Empire has started to take us seriously.”
“Pfft, pathetic.”
The gaze seemed to question how predictable the answer was.
Contrat’s reaction, full of disdain, made Britani feel a flush of shame.
“Father!”
“Where do you think you’re shouting? I’m not asking my daughter right now, but the princess of Arian. How long are you going to keep relying on your brother’s opinion? Hmm?”
Britani tended to rely mostly on her brother’s views in this kind of question, which Contrat had disliked for a long time, and today it finally surfaced.
When the daughter lowered her head in shame, the father shifted his gaze to the last person.
Surprisingly, his expression was rather soft this time.
Alexius, sensing this, felt his lips dry.
“Hmm, and finally, Isabelle. What do you think?”
His eyes showed a hint of expectation.
Isabelle met his gaze without avoidance and spoke.
“At minimum, it’s bluff, and most likely deception.”
A short but clear answer.
Yet Contrat immediately curled the corner of his lips.
“Oh? Explain in detail.”
“You know already. The Imperial Emperor is not the type to easily give up what’s his. He has a very nasty temperament. But he sends congratulations and a letter of celebration to Niran? Anyone would find that strange.”
Having answered to this point, Isabelle watched Contrat’s reaction carefully.
“And so?”
At this point, the reaction wasn’t bad.
Perhaps the father shared a similar opinion.
“The Emperor is not someone who will simply yield Arian. In other words, the likelihood that he accepts the current situation is low. Therefore, it’s a bluff—or rather, I think the Emperor is currently deceiving us. More precisely, this is Marquis Mephisto’s work.”
“Sending congratulations to cover his eyes… What do you think he’s plotting behind the scenes? Have you considered that?”
Now Contrat’s gaze showed excitement.
He liked her answer.
“Yes, I have. But… there’s no need to say it out loud.”
“Hmm? What do you mean by that?”
“Where is Puruka? Isn’t he the one who always sticks close to you like your shadow?”
“What does that have to do with anything now?”
Pretending not to know…
No matter that he was her father, this attitude was truly awful.
Isabelle inwardly sighed and continued.
“I think he was probably sent on a distant mission. The fact that they sent him directly means it’s an important matter… Which leads to one conclusion.”
She looked Contrat in the eyes without hesitation.
As if certain this was the right answer.
“To Rems Riverturn, the Marquis, before the Empire makes the first move.”
“… Tch. Hahaha!”
Contrat let out a hearty laugh.
At that reaction, Isabelle clenched her fist tightly.
“Hah, you’re quite clever. You read my thoughts exactly. How did you know?”
“… I just wondered why Father asked such a question.”
“Which means?”
“Father never makes decisions after discussing such matters. The decision must have already been made, and naturally, actions taken immediately. And since Puruka is actually missing, it confirmed it.”
“Hmm, very good. That’s an answer I really like.”
If only he had sons instead of daughters.
He hurriedly swallowed the words he wanted to say without hesitation.
“Really, you are admirable even though you’re my daughter.”
Behind the satisfied gaze of Contrat,
the dissatisfied eyes of two others turned toward someone else.
Jealousy, anger, envy…
Isabelle felt an unexplained stinging sensation on her skin.
***
“Isabelle.”
At a low call, Isabelle, who was walking hurriedly down the corridor, stopped.
Then she slowly straightened her back.
Britani, with a fierce look on her face, appeared.
“… Do you need something from me?”
She shifted her uncomfortable gaze up and down.
It was no secret that this half-sister disliked her.
But today her glare was even more venomous than usual.
“Are you planning to leave without greeting your older sister? Must I always call you over like this?”
Last week she had been scolded for greeting first.
Now she was being reprimanded for not greeting.
Sisters were such complicated beings.
If you let them get away with something, they’d never stop.
Is it fair to say they demand to be informed to back off?
“Looks like you’re in the mood to accept a greeting today? Sorry, I can’t go that far.”
“What? What do you mean by that?”
“Well, wouldn’t you know better than me?”
As she naturally retorted, Isabelle smiled brightly.
Britani frowned, but forced a smile.
“You really had special etiquette lessons, didn’t you?”
Special etiquette lessons—of course, not a compliment.
Especially for someone like Isabelle who had lost her mother at a young age, it was almost an insult.
Most noble families employed external tutors or mentors for specialized education.
But to a certain age, having a mother present in education was essential.
The mother took charge of the entire curriculum, progress, and hiring teachers.
So if Britani’s words were interpreted bluntly—it meant Isabelle lacked a mother and didn’t receive proper etiquette training.
That was the intended meaning behind this sharp woman’s words.
Isabelle still smiled and asked.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Write? Don’t you know better than I do?”
Tsk.
Of course, she wouldn’t quietly let this pass.
“Are you mocking me now?”
“Oh, did it sound like mockery?”
If she had to deal with her, it was possible, but honestly, it was tiring.
Besides, someone was waiting now.
So she decided to just brush it off.
“No, I take it as a compliment. So, is that all? I’m a bit busy.”
Her shameless response left her opponent bewildered.
“… That guest—is that the reckless prince from the duchy?”
“Reckless? He’s the one who helped us so much this time.”
“Hmm, but people’s true nature doesn’t change so easily, does it?”
“Have you met him yourself?”
No, she was sure she hadn’t.
That was why she only treated the man named Glenn as a mere rumor—a famous madman of the Duke’s house, nothing more.
“No, why would I meet him? Hmm, unless it’s you.”
Then a small laugh.
An unmistakable sneer.
“Right. My father thought highly of him, too.”
“… Your father?”
A reaction as if hearing it for the first time.
Of course, a woman who spent her days chasing priests and salons wouldn’t know that.
This time Isabelle’s mouth curled up slightly.
“If you don’t believe me, go and ask him yourself. I hear the first meeting was quite intense.”
“Hmph, what a pity to be so naïve—.”
“Rumors aren’t very reliable after all. And the ability to size up a person is innate. Isn’t that right, sister?”
You simply judge people by rumors.
No wonder you have no eye for people.
That was the hidden meaning in Isabelle’s words.
Naturally, Britani caught on and her gaze sharpened.
“You… Are you seriously mocking me now?”
“Me? Why would I mock you?”
As if truly not understanding, she tilted her head and smiled innocently.
Britani bit her lip.
“Alright, that man must be quite the important guest? Seeing how you treat him, that is.”
“Yes, he is a guest of the Stauffen House. We can’t afford to treat him carelessly.”
“But, as your sister, I must say this. I heard you’ve been spending late hours with that man recently?”
It was true that they had been together discussing blood magic training and the ball, but no matter how you looked at it, it was only during evening hours—not late at all.
“Isabelle, no matter how important the guest is—you are my precious younger sister. What if you’re careless with your body like this? I’m worried.”
A bitter smile.
This woman now outright treated others like prostitutes.
Usually, things wouldn’t get this far in their squabbles.
No matter how bad the relationship between them, she was still a princess of one country.
In a way, this meant her sister was desperate.
Isabelle didn’t want to react strongly.
She had no desire to lower herself and argue.
With a faint smile, she looked at her sister.
With a slightly pitying gaze.
“Why? Do you think I’m mistaken?”
“Have you heard the saying? To a pig, only other pigs look like pigs; to a saint, only saints look like saints.”
“What?”
Of course, she wouldn’t have heard it—ignorant woman.
Isabelle inwardly sneered and kindly explained.
“Of course, you know the meaning. People only see what matches their own level. Their thoughts are the same. They can only think within the limits of their own standards.”
That was enough that no one could fail to understand.
Even if her sister was slow, it wasn’t like she couldn’t hear.
“You, you insolent—”
Britani’s eyes reddened slightly as she raised her hand to slap—
“Stop.”
From one side of the corridor appeared a man with light brown hair—Alexius.
“Don’t go that far.”