* * *
Lucas observed the Empress closely.
Senevier Taren Gwirta sat at the head of the long banquet table, calmly chatting with the eastern nobles. And those nobles, who by all rights should have been wary of the Empress, all listened to her every word as though they had lost their souls.
Letting out a disbelieving laugh at the absurd sight, Lucas shifted his gaze toward the woman seated to the Empress's left.
While the Empress held the entire hall in the palm of her hand with her dazzling charm, Talia Roem Siorcan sat beside her with an icy expression, silently raising only her wineglass. The stark contrast between the two disturbed him.
‘Why does that woman always look like she's about to die?’
At a glance, the two resembled one another enough that one might believe they were twins.
If Talia had smiled sweetly and deliberately tried to bewitch people the way the Empress did, perhaps no one in this castle would have been able to resist her.
But the woman always bristled like a hedgehog, busy driving away everyone who approached her.
Still, for a while she had seemed to be making a sincere effort to act the part of the Grand Duchess. Yet over the past several days, she had stopped even pretending to mingle with others. Even the nobles who had shown her goodwill had finally given up and turned away in exhaustion.
‘Has her health worsened again?’
The thought sprang up suddenly, and Lucas narrowed his eyes. Talia Roem Siorcan looked paler than usual, staring blankly at the candle flames on the dining table with vacant eyes.
She certainly looked ill.
Feeling strangely restless, he shifted uneasily in his seat just as Varkas entered the banquet hall.
Lucas involuntarily tensed.
His mere appearance seemed to freeze the festive atmosphere inside the hall in an instant.
Apparently he was not the only one who felt that way. Everyone gathered around the table watched the confrontation between the Empress and Varkas with tense expressions.
“It is becoming somewhat disappointing, seeing how difficult it is to catch sight of your face.”
It was Senevier who first broke the strange silence hanging over the hall.
Raising her wineglass to moisten her lips, the woman put on a deliberately disappointed expression.
“It is all well and good to reminisce with old comrades after such a long time, but I do hope you might spare some attention for me and my daughter as well.”
“If I have displeased Your Majesty, I can only offer my sincerest apologies.”
Varkas arrived at the head table, replied calmly, and sat down.
“It seems quite a number of things have transpired within the Imperial Palace during my absence. I was delayed while discussing various matters. I ask that Your Majesty forgive me.”
At those pointed words, a smile smooth enough to send chills down one's spine appeared upon the Empress's lips.
Seeing how composed she remained, Lucas inwardly clicked his tongue.
At present, the Empress was no different from someone who had stepped into the heart of enemy territory. Half of the escort that had accompanied her here consisted of knights belonging to the Roem Knights. In other words, she was surrounded by her political enemies.
And yet, how could she remain so tranquil?
The Empress curved her eyes into crescent moons and spoke gently.
“I do hope your conversations were meaningful.”
An uncomfortable silence once again settled over the banquet hall.
The Empress seemed perfectly aware that Varkas was moving busily to obstruct her plans. Varkas, for his part, made no attempt to hide it.
Lucas glanced at Talia from the corner of his eye.
She was clutching her wineglass tightly with a stiff face, chewing on her lower lip. She had undoubtedly already heard that her husband was exerting every effort to rescue his former fiancée.
Bringing his wineglass to his lips, Lucas glared at the inscrutable face of his elder brother.
After their father's stone coffin had been laid within the mausoleum, he had officially been appointed an aide to the Grand Duke of Siorcan. Thanks to that, over the past few weeks he had come to understand not only the affairs of the East but also the currents of politics within the Imperial Palace.
At present, cracks had begun to appear between the East and the conservative nobles.
And the northerners were trying to wedge themselves into those fractures.
The problem was that their ambitions extended beyond merely increasing their political influence.
The people of Valto had recently been strengthening their military and expanding their power at an alarming pace.
Nor was that all.
Evidence had also been discovered that they were secretly amassing military funds through various merchant companies.
If their objective truly was the independence of Valto, then in the worst-case scenario, Aila Roem Gwirta might be reduced to a hostage used to pressure the Imperial Family. A new marriage alliance involving the First Imperial Princess held more than enough potential to ignite the division of the Empire.
Because of that, Varkas had postponed even the affairs of the Grand Ducal House and devoted himself entirely to persuading the Crown Prince and the conservative nobles.
‘If Brother had married Aila Roem Gwirta in the first place, none of this would have happened.’
Lucas grumbled inwardly.
Had Varkas remained loyal to the Crown Prince instead of yielding to the Emperor's pressure, he would not have had to run around like this.
Laedgo Castle would have been far more harmonious as well.
Perhaps Raina would have endured Father's death much better.
Aila Roem Gwirta was renowned as a gentle and gracious lady. Surely she would have taken good care of that girl.