Chapter 7: An Encounter with the Third Prince

Exactly one day had passed since my 'contract' with Rixian de Valois was formed. As soon as my promised half-day of rest was over, I headed not to the palace infirmary, but to the Academy library. My body felt as heavy as lead from the after-effects of the 'First Empress's Mirror,' but my mind was burning sharper than ever, fueled by the terrible drug of revenge.

Three days later, the Spring Blossom Festival Banquet. The stage where Seraphina de Lafont would present her portrait to the Emperor. My first mission, and the guillotine that would send my former friend to her ruin.

I was here to sharpen that guillotine's blade. I was in the deepest, most deserted corner of the library, past the 'Old Archives'—a section lined with shelves on 'Comparative Analysis of Imperial Painting Styles.'

I needed to know about Seraphina—or rather, about her 'art.' In my past life, I had purely admired her talent. Her wondrous ability to perfectly replicate another's art style—her copycat ability—was genius. But I never once tried to doubt or analyze that ability. I just thought of it as the amazing talent of my best friend.

What a fool the old Eliana Bester had been. I ran my fingers along the old leather spines on the shelf, mocking the me of the past.

"Her paintings lack soul..."

That was the only flaw critics ever found in her work. At the time, I assumed it just meant she lacked originality. But thinking about it now, could it mean something different? No soul. No memory. Or perhaps… 'filled' with something else.

I pulled out a thick tome titled 'The Evolution of the Lafont Family Art Style.' I had to find out what family techniques Seraphina might have used, or hidden, for that portrait. That would be the decisive blow to prove it was a forgery.

My hand stopped as it turned a page thick with the smell of dust. My focus was broken. Someone was watching me. It was a different gaze from Rixian's—this one was filled with a blatant, sticky curiosity.

I slowly lifted my head. There, in the shadows at the end of the aisle, a man was leaning casually on the line between darkness and light. He wasn't hiding. He was openly 'appraising' me, as if he was thoroughly enjoying it.

"Do you really think you'll find your answers in such an old book, Miss Bester?"

He spoke playfully as he stepped out of the shadows. Platinum blond hair that seemed to scatter silver dust in the light, and a pair of deep, unreadable amethyst eyes. He wasn't wearing an Academy uniform, but a high-end silk shirt, worn undone, that perfectly captured his languid, dangerous aura.

I recognized him instantly. There was only one man in this empire, in this Academy, who possessed such arrogance and splendor simultaneously. The Third Prince of the Kairon Empire, Raphael de Kairon.

On the surface, he was the frivolous playboy prince who loved art and amusement. But beneath that mask, he was a man hiding a cold intellect that saw through all the empire's secret struggles and conspiracies.

I moved to stand and curtsy, but he stopped me with a wave of his hand.

"Ah, ah, no need for that. Isn't this the 'Ivory Tower District'? I'm here to forget my station for a moment and converse with an interesting 'genius.'"

He approached my desk and glanced at the book I had open. His amethyst eyes sparkled with amusement.

"The Lafont family art style… a fine research topic. Or perhaps, preparation for 'real combat'?"

The blood in my veins ran cold.

"What do you mean..."

"Haha, there's no need to act in front of me, Miss Eliana Bester."

Raphael leaned in, as if whispering in my ear. A sweet scent of roses wafted from his expensive clothes.

"You exposed an unknown pigment at the Aurelian Auction House, dealt a fatal blow to the Argen family under the name 'Veritas,' and socially buried the great Cassian de Argen by painting him as a violent brute."

He reeled off my every move as if he had read my diary.

"And yesterday…"

His smile deepened.

"You were summoned to the palace's Secret Appraisal Chamber in a carriage sent by the 'Mad Dog of the Empire,' and didn't come out for half a day. I hear Duke Rixian has taken you as his partner? The Mad Dog's tastes are certainly... unique."

I couldn't breathe. If Rixian de Valois was an ice blade, this man was poisoned silk. His information network was clearly different from the Special Investigations Unit's—it was the spiderweb of the social world and the palace itself.

"Your Highness. Have you been spying on me?"

My voice came out sharp.

Raphael burst out laughing, as if my reaction was delightful.

"Spying? Heavens, no. You just happen to be the center of the hottest 'gossip' in the capital, my dear. I am merely enjoying an interesting play."

He tapped his finger on my desk.

"Rixian is hunting 'Sforza.' The mastermind behind the forgeries plaguing the empire. A very large and dangerous rat."

His voice dropped for a moment.

"But Miss Bester. Did you happen to know?"

He leaned toward me again. This time, the playfulness was gone from his eyes.

"The very Seraphina de Lafont you are trying to destroy... do you know who her most powerful patron is?"

"..."

"Valerius Sforza."

My heart plummeted to the floor. This was something I never knew in my past life. The two enemies I wanted revenge on, Cassian and Seraphina... and behind them, the great mastermind pulling all the strings, Valerius Sforza. All the pieces snapped into place.

Raphael watched my face pale with satisfaction. He had tossed me this incredibly dangerous piece of information as casually as if he were discussing the weather.

"Why… Why are you telling me this..."

"I told you. I like an interesting play."

He straightened up and adjusted his shirt.

"Rixian is the sword that strikes head-on, and Sforza is the poison that hides in the dark. Their fight is too predictable, it's boring. But now… you've entered the game. A completely unpredictable 'variable.'"

He was trying to use me. He wanted to throw me into the middle of Rixian's and Valerius's fight, watch how they reacted, and reap his own benefits.

"I'm looking forward to the banquet in three days. Do try not to disappoint me, my little Veritas."

He gave me a wink and vanished as silently as he had arrived. For a long time, I couldn't move, caught in the lingering sweet scent of roses and the far more toxic aftertaste of his poison. Rixian de Valois, and now Raphael de Kairon. In trying to catch a single mouse, I had just stepped into a den prowled by two massive predators.

***

Three days passed like an arrow. I didn't rest for a single moment. The clue Raphael had given me—'Valerius Sforza'—had completely changed the direction of my revenge. Seraphina's painting wouldn't be a simple forgery. It had to be part of a much larger, more insidious plot Sforza was aiming at the Imperial family.

As promised, Rixian sent the palace's finest tailors and stylists to my dorm. They asked no questions about my existence, focusing only on transforming me into a woman worthy of being 'Duke Valois's partner.'

And finally, the night of the banquet arrived. When I stepped out of Rixian's carriage and stood at the entrance to the Imperial banquet hall, I was no longer the Eliana Bester I knew. A jet-black dress, like midnight itself, created a dramatic contrast with my wheat-gold hair and pale skin. The diamond necklace, clearly a gift from Rixian, emitted a cold blue light, just like the shards of the 'Empress's Mirror' he had ordered me to restore.

"His Grace, Duke de Valois, and his partner, Miss Eliana Bester, arriving!"

With the chamberlain's booming announcement, the massive golden doors swung open. In that instant, under a chandelier brighter than a hundred candles, all sound in the banquet hall, filled with the empire's most powerful people... stopped.

Shock. Suspicion. And blatant hostility. Hundreds of pairs of eyes bored into me. Rixian de Valois, the 'Mad Dog of the Empire' who had never once brought a partner to any banquet... And the woman at his side was none other than the commoner-born Academy student who had just driven the Argen family into a scandal, 'Eliana Bester.' Everyone looked as if they were losing their minds.

I met their stares head-on and lightly placed my hand on Rixian's arm. It was as cold and hard as armor.

"Nervous?"

he whispered, not even looking at me.

"No. I'm excited."

At my answer, I felt the corner of his mouth lift in a faint, sneering smile before vanishing.

In the short moment it took to walk to the center of the hall, I found two people in the crowd. Cassian, staring at me with a face pale with rage. And beside him, Seraphina de Lafont, her face twisted in disbelief, shock, and fury. She was wearing a brilliant red dress, appropriate for the star of the evening, but next to my black gown, its light looked pathetically dull.

Just then, Prince Raphael, one of the night's hosts, approached us as if he had been waiting. He flashed a perfect royal smile, knelt elegantly on one knee, and offered me his hand.

"On this beautiful night, may I ask for the first dance with Miss Bester, the most shining star here?"

Everyone in the hall held their breath. This wasn't a simple request to dance. It was a public declaration—the Prince was openly trying to steal the Duke's partner.

Before I could even move my hand, Rixian took a half-step forward, blocking me. The oppressive aura radiating from him instantly froze Raphael's dazzling charm.

"My apologies, Your Highness."

Rixian's voice was pure ice.

"My partner does not dance."

Raphael's amethyst eyes narrowed.

"Oh, Duke. I didn't realize your possessiveness ran so deep. You won't permit even a single dance?"

"It is not possessiveness, Your Highness. It is a fact. My partner has a 'job' to do tonight."

Invisible sparks flew between the two powerful men, with me at the center. I held my breath in their murderous war of nerves. Just then, a fanfare rang out, and the Emperor appeared. Raphael shrugged as if disappointed and retreated, while Rixian, as if nothing had happened, escorted me to our designated seats.

And at last, the highlight of the banquet began. The moment Seraphina de Lafont would present her portrait to the Emperor.

"The empire's greatest rising star, Miss Seraphina de Lafont, presents a portrait, painted with all her heart, in gratitude for His Majesty's grace!"

Seraphina, her face glowing with emotion, walked to the center of the stage. She faltered for a second as she looked at Cassian and me, but she quickly regained her victor's smile and stood before the Emperor. A massive velvet cloth was pulled away, and the portrait was revealed.

A collective gasp of admiration rippled through the hall. It was a perfect masterpiece. The Emperor's dignity, his benevolence, the anguish of a ruler at the empire's peak—all of it was expressed with detailed, magnificent skill. Technically, it was flawless.

"Brilliant, Lady Lafont!"

Even the Emperor smiled, satisfied. Seraphina's face lit up with ecstasy.

In that moment, as everyone else admired it, I felt an instinctive revulsion. I didn't even need to use the 'Eye of Truth' to know. That painting... it wasn't just a forgery.

The puzzle pieces snapped together in my mind. The information from Raphael: 'Valerius Sforza.' The words from Rixian: the 'mysterious pigment' that drove the craftsman mad. And now, this portrait before me, perfect, yet radiating an ominous aura.

I closed my eyes and focused my 'Eye of Truth,' trying to read the memory embedded in the painting. The instant I did, a malevolent energy, like a black fog, attacked my mind—far more aggressively than the mirror.

'You dare… to look...?'

"Ugh!"

I cried out and staggered backward. The pain was so intense my vision went white. To keep from falling, I instinctively grabbed the arm of the man standing next to me—Rixian.

I felt his arm go rigid. He should have recoiled from my sudden contact in disgust, but he didn't.

"What is it?"

he asked in a low voice, realizing something was seriously wrong.

My face pale, I held onto his solid forearm and looked up at him.

"Your Grace..."

My voice was trembling with terror.

"That... That's not just a forgery."

"It's... It's meant to harm... His Majesty the Emperor."

"It's a 'cursed object'."