14.
Time passed, and Philomel Meitias Belerov turned fourteen.
She was soon to have her debutante. While it was standard for young ladies to debut after the age of sixteen, Philomel was to have hers a bit earlier because the position of Empress was vacant. It was necessary to have a member of the Imperial family to lead the social circle.
In the past, the Marchioness Eross had led society as the former princess, but after she was cast out, there was no one suitable to take her place. Among the remaining collateral members of the imperial family, there was no one close enough to the direct line to replace the Empress.
It had not caused any major disaster, but without someone to act as a pivot, it was said that the tensions between factions within the social circle were acute and the atmosphere was poor.
‘Can I play that role?’
Philomel felt reluctant, as if she were carrying an unnecessary burden, but she could not shirk her duties as a princess. In any case, until Ellensia Belerov appeared, she was the princess.
‘I have no choice but to fulfill my given role.’
Moreover, Countess Deles had said it wouldn’t be very difficult. She claimed that the other ladies would know how to act accordingly just by Philomel holding her position.
Though it was uncertain how intimidated the haughty nobles would be by a girl who had been nothing more than an eyesore until recently…
“Oh my! You look absolutely beautiful!”
Philomel realized her situation at the exclamation of Countess Deles, who had burst out beside her.
The day of the debutante was today. The banquet would begin in just a few hours.
Philomel turned back and forth to check her reflection in the mirror.
“Wouldn’t this be too flashy?”
Philomel asked awkwardly, looking at the dress decorated with countless red ribbons over white fabric.
The Countess shook her head and smoothed out the dress.
“Not at all! You’re the one who has only dressed too modestly all this time, Your Highness. But you don’t need to do that at your debutante.”
The maids also helped her, checking meticulously to ensure none of the ribbons had come loose.
“This dress must be far from your personal taste, but please endure it just for today. Everyone else will be dressed to the nines.”
“Hmm, I suppose that’s true.”
In truth, it was very much to Philomel’s taste. If anything, the other dresses in the closet were the ones far removed from her preferences.
Before she was nine, Philomel had preferred dresses that were dazzlingly flashy. As many decorations as possible, the highest quality materials.
But if she kept buying such dresses, it would only be a matter of time before she became the extravagant ‘Philomel’ from the book.
Besides, she didn’t have the audacity to spend the Emperor’s money recklessly when she was a total stranger to him.
So, Philomel had overhauled her tastes. She wore mostly modest and elegant dresses and economized as much as possible without compromising the dignity of the Imperial family.
As a result, others simply assumed that Philomel’s tastes had changed naturally as she grew older. The Countess, who had felt a secret regret that she couldn’t dress Philomel in cute and flashy gowns, had actively encouraged her to wear the dress she had chosen, at least for the debutante.
‘It’s a bit awkward, but it’s not bad.’
Philomel, who had been surveying herself in the mirror, checked that quite a bit of time had passed and hurried out of the room.
The Emperor was waiting in front of the carriage.
“Your Majesty! Have you been waiting long?”
“Not really. More importantly…”
Eustis’s gaze drifted to the dress.
Even though it was unlikely given his personality, his eyes seemed to reproach the expensive cost of the dress, causing Philomel to feel a sudden pang of guilt.
“Does it look very strange?”
“No. It suits you well.”
“Your Majesty looks very good in your military uniform as well.”
At the sycophantic remark, the Emperor chuckled and held out his hand as he stepped into the carriage. At some point, he had begun to show smiles toward Philomel frequently.
“Get in.”
He was the one who would escort Philomel today. Philomel did not refuse and took his hand.
The carriage passed through the Inner Palace, located deep within the Imperial Palace grounds, and headed toward the Outer Palace. If the Inner Palace was primarily the living quarters for the Imperial family, the Outer Palace was where officials worked, palace staff resided, and banquets were held.
Soon, they arrived at the banquet hall.
“The Great Sun of the Empire and the Small Sun, His Majesty the Emperor and Her Highness the Princess arrive!”
As they appeared amidst the herald’s shout, the gazes in the room converged.
“Glory to Belerov!”
“Glory to Belerov!”
People bowed, placing their right arms over their chests. And so, the debutante began.
According to general custom, a young lady participating in her debutante enters escorted by family, then dances with a peer of the opposite sex.
There was a superstition that one would end up with the partner they danced with for the first time, and for that reason, finding a first dance partner was the greatest concern for the young ladies.
She had heard that there were ladies who had burst into tears at their debutante because they couldn’t find a partner they liked. Of course, this did not apply to those who already had betrothed partners.
Philomel, who spotted her betrothed in the distance, informed the Emperor.
“Then, I shall go and dance my first dance with the son of Duke Abridon.”
But there was no reply.
When she looked back in puzzlement, Eustis had a displeased look on his face for some reason.
“Your Majesty?”
“…It is all superstition that one ends up with their first dance partner. So don’t be too bound by it. You still have countless possibilities ahead of you.”
‘I wondered why he was acting so serious… Is that his version of advice?’
Whatever her possibilities were, she had known since long ago that she would not end up with Nasar Abridon.
“Of course. Please do not worry.”
Philomel answered breezily and walked toward Nasar, engaging with the people who greeted her along the way.
Nasar, the heir of a powerful house second to none, who combined both martial arts and scholarship. Moreover, his appearance was so outstanding that he was praised as the best groom in the Empire.
He was watching Philomel approach. He looked quite dazed, as if he were under a spell.
Philomel called his name.
“Nasar?”
“……”
“Nasar, are you unwell?”
“Ah, no. I apologize. I was lost in thought for a moment.”
“Aren’t you overworking yourself again?”
“I am fine. I rested well yesterday.”
Duke Abridon’s passion for education showed no signs of cooling. Recently, it was said he had brought in a Swordmaster who used aura as Nasar’s fencing instructor.
Whenever she saw the bruises visible beneath his sleeves, compassion welled up inside Philomel. A part of her heart ached. Perhaps it was a feeling of empathy for a fellow sufferer.
“Your Highness, please give me your hand.”
Nasar held out his hand with a faintly trembling voice.
The attendees had gathered in a circle around the banquet hall. They were waiting for the Princess and her betrothed to begin the dance.
Philomel, once again, did not refuse and took his hand.
Until the day she left this place, she could be the substitute for Ellensia Belerov as much as needed.
* * *
Time passed once more. Philomel turned fifteen.
“I offer my greetings to the Small Sun of the Empire, Her Highness Philomel Meitias Belerov.”
In a certain ballroom, a young lady with a nervous face offered her greetings to the Princess.
“Oh my. Is that Lady Lusan? How is the Countess Lusan’s health these days? I am curious if the prescription from the doctor invited from abroad has been effective.”
The young lady, a Countess’s daughter, was moved that the Princess would carefully worry about her mother’s health despite their family not being particularly influential, and answered happily.
“She has improved significantly. It is all thanks to Your Highness’s grace in helping us call the doctor.”
“It is not much of a deed. I merely acted as a bridge.”
“Far from it. If Your Highness had not helped, my mother would still be bedridden.”
Soon, many nobles flocked to Philomel’s side. They were people desperate to speak with the Princess.
Nasar Abridon watched the scene from a distance, holding a crystal glass. Philomel was responding to everything they said without the slightest sign of annoyance.
Her soft brown hair swayed, touching her white skin and falling away each time she nodded slightly.
Nasar kept his gaze fixed on her. Until someone tapped his shoulder.
“Nasar! So that’s where you were.”
“Kenny.”
Kenny Odelli, the second son of Marquis Odelli, was Nasar’s closest friend. He had a playful and talkative personality, yet he had quite a lot in common with the taciturn Nasar.
“Who are you looking at like that?”
Kenny whistled when he confirmed the direction of Nasar’s gaze.
“Whoa. That’s very intense, very intense indeed. You looked your fill when you danced earlier, and you want to see her again?”
“It’s not like that.”
“What do you mean it’s not like that?”
Kenny tapped Nasar’s shoulder again.
“Are you that happy? To the point where it’s enough just to watch her?”
After a moment of silence, Nasar gave an answer somewhat unrelated to Kenny’s question.
“…You danced with the Princess as well.”
“That was because I asked and she obliged. You were her first dance.”
“It’s only natural since I am her betrothed.”
“Oho. Is that all? You only danced because you are her betrothed?”
Kenny looked at Nasar teasingly, as if urging him to just admit it.
“Yes. That is all.”
At least to her.
Nasar swallowed his remaining words and turned his gaze back toward the Princess.
“Don’t lie. Your affection is dripping from your eyes.”
“……”
Leaving his friend, who had sealed his lips, Kenny rambled on as he pleased.
“Seeing this, you’re jealous, aren’t you? What, are you sulking because the Princess danced with other guys?”
“Be quiet.”
“Even so, what is there to worry about? You’re the one who will win the honor of marrying her anyway.”
“…Will I really?”
Kenny clicked his tongue at the insecure voice. The Princess and Nasar were a perfect pair acknowledged by all, yet his friend was always strangely defensive.
“What are you talking about? If not you, then who…”
Suddenly, the murmuring ceased, and the people in the hall lowered their heads.
The Emperor had appeared.