Princes.
The blood of the Emperor who ruled the Empire—those who would inherit the next generation of power.
Though the Emperor was said to still be in robust health, the five princes beneath him were already engaged in fierce maneuvering beneath the surface, each vying for succession.
If the First Prince, who held the greatest claim, was martial-minded and belligerent by nature, the Second Prince was his opposite.
Relaxed, intellectual, and deeply interested in magic.
As he let his gaze drift leisurely around the room and raised a hand in greeting, the stiffly frozen atmosphere began to thaw.
"Please, everyone, enjoy yourselves. A few shouts from the guards won't amount to anything."
At the Second Prince's words, people began waving back at him or approaching to shake his hand, and Karin made no move to stop them.
"Your Highness, I've so longed to meet you!"
"I haven't forgotten the kindness you showed me last time!"
As he received greetings from within the crowd, his eyes met Rokgard's—and he began waving with vigor.
"Pardon me for a moment. Do enjoy the banquet."
The moment his words ended, the guards once again began pushing the crowd back, and Karin walked with practiced ease down the cleared path.
One step. Two steps.
At last he came to a stop before Rokgard, who gave a respectful dip of his head.
"It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness."
"The honor is mine—I was terribly worried you might leave without me, Sir Rokgard."
"I would never dream of it, Your Highness."
"Is that so? You seemed rather out of place—what with the wine glass and all."
Karin glanced toward it, and Rokgard simply raised the glass to his lips once more.
"The taste is fine. I simply don't care for wine."
"And it's the finest vintage at that. If even this doesn't suit you, I'll have to prepare something better next time."
Karin smiled and stepped closer, and Rokgard quietly took stock of his appearance.
His attire was not ostentatious—but that restraint only made the Second Prince stand out all the more.
"I imagine you're quite busy. I'm curious what prompted you to summon me here."
"How very like the Family Head of House Pailless—most people are too busy flattering me to get to the point."
"I apologize if I've given offense."
"Not at all. I prefer it this way. I like things clean."
Karin lifted a wine glass with unhurried ease and took a light sip.
"We are currently expanding the Magic Corps and organizing a new division. The Court Mages have expressed favorable interest as well."
He had heard of this.
If he recalled correctly, it was to be a specialized unit dedicated to apprehending criminals who used magic.
The Court Mages who had sought his counsel on the matter were, after all, the very ones Karin was now referring to.
"I've heard of Your Highness's initiative. However, I was under the impression that apprehending such criminals falls under the sole jurisdiction of the Magic Inspection Bureau."
Karin swirled his wine glass as he replied.
"The variables posed by mages are far too numerous for the Bureau alone to manage the entire continent. If we are to avoid repeating the sacrifices the Bureau suffered during the Dawn Moon suppression operation, expanding the division is an absolute necessity—wouldn't you agree?"
The Empire harbored many criminal organizations, and Dawn Moon had been the most dangerous among them.
After a relentless pursuit by the Magic Inspection Bureau, a sweeping suppression had finally been carried out—but the losses had been staggering, leaving a prolonged gap in public order.
*But.*
That was only the surface-level justification.
Given that the Magic Inspection Bureau had historically backed the First Prince, the fact that this was a move to check that influence was something anyone—not just Rokgard—could see plainly.
The only reason it couldn't be stopped was that the stated cause was sound.
"So then, what is it you wish to ask of this old man?"
"Old man? You are a distinguished talent the Empire desires. I happen to despise seeing talent go to waste."
He raised his wine glass, and Rokgard met it with his own.
"I would like to recommend Sir Rokgard as standing advisor to the new special division we are establishing. What do you say?"
To recruit Rokgard was an implicit invitation—to come to his side.
It meant stepping into the political struggle of the imperial court.
Berna, who had been listening from behind, slowly raised her head, sensing that the situation was no ordinary one.
"I am grateful for the offer, but at present I wish to devote my energies to cultivating a successor and contributing to the world of magic."
At Rokgard's polite yet firm refusal, murmurs rippled through the surrounding crowd—but the Second Prince's lips curved upward, as though he had anticipated exactly this.
"The heir of House Pailless. That is certainly something to look forward to."
His gaze remained fixed on Rokgard, but Rokgard did not yield.
"As it happens, I met your eldest son recently. Striking in appearance, remarkable in spirit—I found myself wondering if that must be what Sir Rokgard looked like in his youth."
"I appreciate the kind words. But he still has much to learn."
At that, Karin let out a quiet laugh and replied in a rather measured tone.
"Still has much to learn, you say. Are you aware that this supposedly lacking young man has been assigned to the Magic Corps' elite division?"
"That is my assessment, at least."
At Pailless's words—delivered without retreat, conveying his thoughts plainly—the Second Prince broke into laughter.
"That resolute manner of yours is quite compelling. I was well acquainted with the standing of House Pailless, but seeing you in person, Sir Rokgard, I understand why the name commands such renown."
Rokgard responded with another respectful bow of his head.
"I am grateful you see it that way."
"Not at all. There is no shortage of time—please, think it over at your leisure."
The Second Prince took a sip of wine, then accepted a piece of chocolate from an attendant and placed it in his mouth. Rokgard slowly looked up at the Second Prince, who had fallen silent.
"Is that all?"
"Yes."
…
For a moment, his brow twitched.
He had been summoned all this way for a single proposal?
*…He planned this.*
Karin's eyes were unhurried.
Whatever else one might say, he was still a man of the imperial house.
By personally summoning the Family Head of House Pailless, he had demonstrated his influence over the world of magic—and no doubt satisfied a private sense of superiority as well.
It was a political maneuver Rokgard had encountered countless times. He composed his expression.
"Then I shall take my leave."
"So soon? The evening is just getting started."
"Yes, I have prior engagements."
Karin shrugged, then gestured to the guards to clear a path for his departure. They fell into formation at once, opening the way to the entrance.
Berna stepped forward first to guide Rokgard, and he gave the prince one final bow before turning his back.
"Ah, one more thing."
Karin opened his mouth as though he had something left to say.
"I understand your daughter is at the Academy."
"…"
"Her reputation precedes her. A genius said to be among the finest in the Academy's history."
"You flatter her."
"Flatter her? My wife was absolutely beside herself—going on and on about a student who had defeated her younger sister."
The Second Prince's wife was the eldest daughter of the current House Rugvida.
Her younger sister, then, would be Sereen Rugvida.
"And as it happens, I have been providing patronage to the talented students at the Academy. Remarkably sharp and gifted individuals—I'm curious what Sir Rokgard makes of that."
"Investment in talent is never wasted. A wise choice."
Rokgard offered a measured, noncommittal reply, and the Second Prince, apparently satisfied, gave a nod without pressing further.
"Indeed. And so I plan to attend in person with my wife. I'd like to see my talented students with my own eyes."
He smiled with easy confidence, as though making a quiet boast.
"I hope it yields good results."
Rokgard maintained his composure to the last as he departed the banquet hall.
When he climbed into the carriage, Cleonoa was already seated across from him.
"Is it done?"
"It is."
Rokgard straightened his tie and exhaled with barely concealed irritation, and Cleonoa spoke.
"It seems the Second Prince didn't have particularly pleasant things to say."
"Imperial types are always like that."
He crossed his arms and turned to look out the window. The carriage set off, and the scenery began to move.
"I heard you went to see Elline."
At the mention of Elline, Cleonoa's expression stiffened almost imperceptibly—but she gave a practiced nod in reply.
"Yes."
"I trust you didn't say anything unnecessary."
"I went simply as a parent fulfilling her duty."
Cleonoa spoke evenly, without a change in expression, and lifted her gaze to meet Rokgard's.
She had fallen for him when he was a Court Mage who combined brilliance with reason—but somewhere along the way, that sharpness had vanished, leaving only a cold mountain of ice.
*…*
What would Rokgard's reaction be if he learned that Elline had a lover?
The outcome was plain to see.
In Rokgard's method of raising children—one that stripped away emotion with ruthless thoroughness—love was a sin.
*Never.*
The one thing Cleonoa could do for Elline was to keep that truth hidden.
Whether he sensed her thoughts or not, Rokgard's eyes—still fixed on the window—grew heavy with something unspoken. His brow furrowed, as though the conversation with the Second Prince was still turning over in his mind.
"Berna."
"Yes."
Berna, seated beyond the partition, opened the door and answered.
"Write a letter."
"To whom shall I address it?"
"Elline."
Cleonoa went rigid for a moment.
Rokgard was still looking out the window, but his eyes held not the passing scenery—they held venom.
"Understood."
"You already receive more than enough reports from Berna, don't you?"
As she said—Elline's academic performance, her contact with the Mage Tower, all of it was already being reported to him through Berna.
Everything, save for the one thing Cleonoa had asked to be kept quiet.
"I am also writing as a parent fulfilling my duty."
"…"
*Shameless.*
"What would you like the letter to say?"
Berna asked, and Rokgard murmured quietly.
"The Second Prince says he will attend the Spring Festival Tournament."
Cleonoa listened in silence.
Under ordinary circumstances, she would have paid House Rugvida no mind. She had heard there was a prodigy there as well—but she had always thought of her as a young lady who fell one step short of Elline.
Yet perhaps it was the Second Prince's behavior today that had unsettled her.
"Tell her to participate in the Spring Festival Tournament. And—"
No matter how many talented individuals the Second Prince assembled, they would never compare to the single masterwork he himself had created. That had to be made clear.
"Tell her she must win."
"…Understood."
Berna gave a nod and immediately began writing something down.
Cleonoa exhaled quietly, a measure of relief settling over her—though it was not without its weight.
*The Spring Festival Tournament…*
Cleonoa searched her memory.
It was the spring festival held at the Academy, and if she recalled correctly, there was a competition of some kind.
Elline likely hadn't participated until now.
She would have had neither reason nor time.
This time, Cleonoa could only hope she would use the competition as an excuse—and enjoy the festival.
Together with her lover.