Chapter 3
Her brothers didn't seem to have arrived yet. Gareth, the Crown Prince of the empire and her half-brother, always stood like a king at the head table on the second floor, where he could see the whole hall at a glance.
And Aila would always be there beside him, more dignified and elegant than anyone else.
But tonight, I might not get to see Aila Roem Girta at all.
She picked up a silver goblet from a small round table, chuckling softly to herself.
The memory of Aila collapsing in the middle of the banquet hall not long ago, her face gone pale, surfaced in her mind, and a cruel satisfaction bloomed in her chest. The sight of her retching wine onto the marble floor had looked almost like she was pouring out her own heart.
If only I could actually make that happen.
Talia scraped the surface of the goblet with her sharpened nail, letting out a thin, grating screech.
She couldn't count how many times she'd silently prayed, watching her half-sister convulse there on the floor.
Just die already, Aila. Please, never open your eyes again.
"Your Highness."
Talia, deep in her dark thoughts, turned her head at the voice that spoke from close by.
A man stood there, neatly dressed in dark green formal attire, one hand resting over his chest. His face looked familiar.
It took her a moment to recall—he was someone who frequently appeared at banquets hosted by her mother.
She couldn't remember his name. She only vaguely recalled her mother calling him Count Serian.
"It's been a while, Your Highness. You grow more beautiful by the day."
The man looked down at her with admiration in his eyes, then bent to press his lips to the back of her hand. A wave of revulsion crept over her, like something wet and larval had touched her skin. But Talia forced a smile.
"Did Mother ask you to keep me company?"
"Her Majesty the Empress is always concerned for Your Highness."
The man's reply was an indirect confirmation.
"But even without Her Majesty's request, I couldn't have kept from speaking to you. Look around, Your Highness."
He leaned in close to her ear, whispering as though sharing some great secret.
"Every man in this room is watching you. They all want to come to you as I have, to kiss this beautiful hand and shower you with praise—but they're forcing themselves to swallow that desire. None of them want to fall out of favor with the Crown Prince."
"And you're an exception?"
"I lost his favor a long time ago, I'm afraid."
He gave a sly, unbothered smile.
"Which, fortunately, means I've been assigned the duty of attending Your Highness tonight. A blessing in disguise, you might say."
Talia disliked men who clung to her with more attention than necessary. No—she despised them, if she was honest.
But enduring hundreds of piercing stares alone seemed worse than having a convenient shield.
Talia accepted his escort with the air of someone doing him a favor.
"What did Mother say? Did she ask you to rescue her poor black sheep of a daughter, floundering alone at the edges?"
"Her Majesty ordered me to help Your Highness thoroughly enjoy the banquet."
Talia bit back a scoff.
The man led her toward the stage set up in front of the balcony.
"And she also instructed me to attend you well enough that you'd outshine everyone else in the hall."
The dancers moving to the strains of lyre, lute, and organ shuffled back awkwardly, shooting sharp looks their way. But the Count paid them no mind, bowing to her with deliberate flourish.
"Would you do me the honor of allowing me this dance, Your Highness?"
Talia looked down at his smooth, uncalloused hand with distaste.
She had not the slightest desire to touch a man she barely knew. But the sharp stares and murmuring voices around her stirred up her defiance.
They're all hoping I'll disappear from here. Or at least stay tucked quietly in a corner, as good as invisible.
But that's not going to happen.
Talia took the man's hand. As though he'd been waiting for exactly that, he wrapped an arm around her waist and began sweeping her across the floor with practiced skill.
Even Talia, who despised physical contact with others, couldn't help but be impressed by the man's exceptional dancing. Count Serian moved flawlessly to the music, and he had a gift for making his partner look magnificent in the process.
Talia had always enjoyed dancing, but never before had her own movements felt this graceful. And it seemed she wasn't the only one who noticed.
Over the Count's shoulder, as he expertly spun her, she surveyed the room. Hundreds of eyes were tracking her movements in perfect unison. Everyone who had so thoroughly looked down on the imperial family's illegitimate daughter now couldn't tear their eyes away from her.
Talia felt a surge of triumph. Even before tonight, whenever she appeared in public, people would pretend not to look while secretly watching her every move. But that had always just been contempt and wariness on display.
This time was different. They were looking at her the way they looked at her mother. She could feel their gazes—fear and fascination tangled together—clinging to her body like a knotted thread.
She felt as though she'd become Senevier. The most powerful, dangerous, and beautiful being in the world.
But the sweet taste of victory lasted only a moment. The music suddenly cut off, and the true stars of the banquet made their entrance.
"The empire's great Crown Prince, His Highness Gareth Roem Girta, and the empire's First Princess, Her Highness Aila Roem Girta, are entering!"
At the chamberlain's booming announcement, the two royals descended the marble stairs through the hall's entrance with imposing, stately steps. And in an instant, Talia was pushed entirely out of everyone's attention.
Count Serian laughed bitterly and led her toward the terrace, where wine and food had been laid out.
"A shame to have your pleasant evening interrupted."
The Count kept up his glib chatter, seemingly trying to ease her stiff expression, but not a word of it reached her ears.
Talia stared at Aila, dressed in pure white, her gaze burning. Her half-sister seemed to have completely forgotten the disgraceful scene she'd made in front of everyone just weeks ago.
Watching that pretty face smile elegantly beside her brother, Talia's stomach burned with fury.
She scrutinized them relentlessly, taking in every detail—their dark hair, their emerald eyes, their faces as though carved from ivory.
They overflowed with the dignity and confidence befitting true royalty. It was something neither Senevier nor she herself could ever possess, no matter how hard they tried.
Senevier was the serpent who had dragged a young emperor once hailed as sacred down into the filth of scandalous infidelity, and she herself was the filth that had come from that serpent's belly. Even if Senevier bore the Emperor dozens more sons in the future, that fact would never change.
Talia glared silently at her half-siblings, surrounded by everyone's adoring attention, then turned toward the table where the wine glasses were set out. That was when she noticed the people who'd been gazing at the Princess and Crown Prince with envy now glancing her way, exchanging subtle looks.
Every nerve in her body went taut. She wanted to gouge out every single one of their eyes.
Don't you dare compare me to them.
Suppressing the urge to scream those words, she fought to keep her expression indifferent, but the man beside her, oblivious, murmured into her ear.
"It seems the two of them intend to ignore Your Highness's presence entirely. What will you do? Shall you go greet them first?"
She shot him a venomous glare.
He curved his mouth into an amused smile.
"Isn't that exactly why you came here tonight?"
Talia bit her lip.
He was right. She'd come here for the sole purpose of ruining her siblings' mood—to strike a horrible, discordant note into an occasion where everyone showered them with congratulations. And surely Senevier wanted exactly that too.
Finally steeling herself, Talia gripped her wine glass tightly and turned toward her half-siblings. Then she strode confidently forward through the crowd.
That was when Barkas Raedgo Sirchan appeared at the entrance to the banquet hall.
Talia froze completely. Her heart pounded as though she'd been caught off guard by a sudden ambush.
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