"Ah, she’s here!"
Amelia caught it instantly—her radar was frighteningly accurate.
Truth be told, it was my mistake for not noticing first. Unfortunately, I wasn’t blessed with eyes on the back of my head.
—Click, clack.
The sound of measured footsteps approached from behind.
Alice was coming toward us.
"Did you two have a good time?" she asked, her tone smooth and composed as ever.
"Of course," I replied with a polite smile. "There was a slight problem, but thanks to Lady Amelia, it was resolved without issue."
The words themselves were fine.
Too fine.
I paused mid-thought.
Something felt... off.
Her expression, her posture, even her voice—everything appeared normal at first glance. Yet there was a faint discord, the kind you only notice when you’ve been paying close attention.
"Lady Alice," I said carefully, "your fan is broken."
Her eyes flicked downward for just a fraction of a second.
It was subtle—so subtle that most would miss it entirely. But I had been watching her all evening.
The peacock-feather fan she carried was slightly damaged near the base, the delicate frame cracked as if it had been clenched too tightly.
"Oh dear," Alice said lightly. "I suppose I didn’t control my strength very well."
"Alice...?" Amelia frowned. "What happened?"
Another noble nearby finally noticed as well, breaking into a cold sweat as he followed Amelia’s gaze.
"I-It’s nothing, really," Alice replied at once. "Nothing happened."
She said it with furrowed brows.
That alone made the denial unconvincing.
"Lady Alice," I said, stepping forward, "allow me. I’ll have the fan repaired for you."
She hesitated briefly, then nodded.
"Yes. I’ll leave it to you."
As she handed it over, my fingers brushed against hers.
No—
I grasped her hand for just a moment longer than necessary.
Then I let go.
"...Julies?" she murmured, surprise slipping through her composure.
"Oh," I said lightly, "it seems I’m a bit nervous as well."
Amelia reacted instantly, pulling me back by the sleeve.
Naturally.
It wasn’t just jealousy—though there was certainly some of that. In a hall filled with nobles, even the smallest impropriety could become tomorrow’s scandal.
Still... the sharp look she shot me stung.
But what of it?
That brief contact was enough.
[Emotion Absorption Activated]
[Accessing fragments of Alice Draken’s memories.]
The world blurred—
And then, clarity.
A grand audience chamber.
The emperor sat above, his presence heavy and absolute.
—For now, it is merely an engagement. The formal marriage vow will take place after graduation from the academy.
It was Prince Elric’s voice—cold, distant, rehearsed.
Then Alice spoke.
—And if those emotions never take root? What then?
A pause.
—Then we will have fulfilled our duty regardless. Affection is desirable, not mandatory.
Indifference, spoken as policy.
The vision shifted.
A man who smiled as if the world owed him something.
Despite her flawless exterior, Alice had been weighed down—slowly, relentlessly—by one event after another.
Engagement.
Expectation.
Duty.
That prince...
He was the root of it all.
The vision shattered.
I blinked, returning to the present.
"My apologies," I said quietly, lowering my head as I handed the fan back to her attendant instead.
Alice looked at me for a long moment.
Then—
"...Be careful," she said.
Just that.
No reprimand.
No anger.
She sounded tired.
Too tired to be offended.
As she turned away to take red wine by passer by servent, her shoulders seemed a fraction heavier than before.
Amelia leaned closer to me, lowering her voice.
"...You did something, didn’t you?"
I smiled faintly.
"Nothing improper," I said. "Just... confirming a suspicion."
She didn’t look convinced.
But she didn’t press further either.
Alice stood there, drinking her red wine with perfect elegance.
Yet now that I had seen it—
Behind the flawless poise and noble pride was a young woman slowly being crushed by obligations she never chose.
And the one who put her there?
Elric Solhaven.
I would not forget it.
He’s the source of all evil
The music resumed, hesitant at first, then flowing once more through the hall as if nothing had happened.
Laughter followed soon after.
Glasses clinked.
Nobles returned to their performances of ease and refinement.
Only I knew how fragile that illusion was.
Alice stood a short distance away, her back straight, her movements flawless as she accepted another glass from a passing servant. The deep red wine caught the chandelier light, shimmering like liquid rubies as she raised it to her lips.
Perfect.
Immaculate.
Empty.
Amelia watched her for a moment longer before exhaling softly.
"...I don’t like that look," she said.
"Which one?"
"The one you get when you decide someone deserves consequences."
I let out a quiet chuckle. "You make me sound cruel."
"You are," Amelia replied flatly. "Just selectively."
I couldn’t deny it.
My gaze drifted back to Alice. The way her fingers tightened ever so slightly around the stem of the glass. The way her smile never quite reached her eyes.
"How long," Amelia continued, voice lowered, "have you known?"
"Not long," I answered. "Long enough."
"That prince?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yes."
Amelia’s jaw tightened. "Figures. Royal engagements are always painted as blessings. No one ever talks about the price."
I glanced at her. "You sound like you’re speaking from experience."
She huffed quietly. "I have eyes. And ears. And unlike some people, I don’t need to touch others to read the room."
"...You’re still angry about that?"
"Of course I am," she said, then softened. "But that’s not what matters right now."
Her gaze sharpened.
"What are you planning to do?"
I didn’t answer immediately.
Across the hall, Alice lowered her glass and exchanged a few polite words with a noblewoman twice her age. She laughed at the appropriate moment, bowed just the right amount, and excused herself with grace.
Every movement had been learned.
Practiced.
Polished.
None of it was hers.
"I’m not planning anything," I said at last.
Amelia looked at me sideways. "That’s a lie."
"...Fine," I admitted. "I’m planning to remember."
"To remember?" she echoed.
"Elric Solhaven believes duty excuses indifference," I said quietly. "That as long as roles are fulfilled, emotions are irrelevant."
My fingers curled slightly at my side.
"That kind of thinking rots people. Slowly. Thoroughly."
Amelia studied my expression, then sighed.
"Julies... you can’t fight a crown."
"I don’t intend to," I replied. "Not openly."
Her eyes narrowed. "That doesn’t reassure me."
"It shouldn’t."
....But it was just beginning.
As I was about to something more in return, I had to stop.
Not only I but all banquet hall was stopped as well.
What is going now...?