Chapter 35
“…Excuse me?”
Dave’s eyes clouded with a flicker of bewilderment. He ground his molars together before repeating the question.
“What did you just say? Are you implying I’m mistaken?”
“I am. You were the one who initiated physical contact by stepping on me, weren’t you?”
“…What?”
“Your Highness opted to use your foot rather than your hand to touch a lady.”
Silence followed.
“Is there a reason for this sudden outburst of temper?”
“How… how dare you say such things…”
It was typical.
Dave was the quintessential spoiled aristocrat. He occupied the very peak of the social hierarchy, a member of the Imperial Family who had never known want. The Second Prince.
He possessed boundless wealth and a wretched personality, yet he lacked the intellect to match. His inability to formulate a swift retort was proof enough of that.
While he struggled to find his voice, I adopted a facade of fragile concern.
“Has something troubled Your Highness? As a loyal subject of this realm, I am deeply invested in the welfare of the Imperial Family. Please, unburden yourself and tell me everything. Because if not…”
I let the silence hang for a moment to build tension.
“You certainly wouldn’t have tripped a passing woman on purpose, would you?”
“Pfft.”
A sudden burst of muffled laughter drifted from nearby.
Dave, who had clearly been preparing a verbal assault, whipped his head toward the sound. I followed his gaze and felt a jolt of alarm.
Good heavens.
When had such a crowd gathered?
The chaos of the last few minutes had made me forget our location: the White Tower. This place was a sanctuary for the Empire’s greatest minds, teeming with scholars, prodigies, Pneuma, and the Dean himself. Since a member of the royalty was causing a scene, it seemed a significant number of academics had flocked to the area to witness the spectacle.
The Dean would likely arrive at any moment. I found myself hoping for his swift appearance—ideally accompanied by Schulz Schmidt, my personal tutor.
Dave’s complexion turned a violent shade of crimson. He looked ready to order the mass arrest of every scholar who had dared to chuckle, but he checked himself, realizing he was on the White Tower’s sovereign grounds.
“Seize this wretched girl for her blasphemy against the crown! How can a minor noble think she can insult a prince?”
I hadn’t anticipated him escalating the situation to a formal charge of lèse-majesté. Such an accusation meant a trip to the Imperial Palace—specifically, the subterranean dungeons. Rumor had it those cells were nightmares where vermin feasted on the extremities of prisoners.
If he truly threw me into that hole without cause, Assis Grand Duke Frazier would launch a diplomatic war, and the Emperor would likely skin the Second Prince alive.
The thought of the Grand Duke’s retribution was tempting, but then I remembered the massive cockroaches from my old apartment days. I couldn’t stomach that. Just as I prepared to reveal my true station, a voice intervened.
“Dave. That is quite enough.”
The voice was melodic and commanding, slicing through the tension like a blade of light. Dave turned, his face brightening.
“Mother!”
“Engaging in a vulgar spat with a young woman in a semi-public space? Is this the behavior of a gentleman?”
It was Empress Carmi. Standing just behind her was the Dean, looking rather stunned. It appeared the two had been sharing tea and had stumbled upon the climax of our confrontation.
There was a jarring contrast in her presence. It was surreal to think she had just finished beating Ferdinand until he was bruised, only to appear here now, the picture of refined elegance and soft laughter. Dave, meanwhile, looked like a victim of a great injustice.
“But this nobody—this insignificant girl from some backwater family—she showed me no respect…”
“Dave.”
The Empress silenced him with a tone as smooth and cold as polished jade. She turned her attention to me. Unlike her son, who viewed me as a mere pest, she clearly recognized my face. She wore a mask of benevolence that was the polar eye of the storm compared to the woman who had struck the Crown Prince.
Yet, beneath that warmth, I could sense a faint ripple of revulsion. She had likely heard the whispers that I wasn’t the biological daughter of Marquis Frazier.
With so many witnesses watching, she maintained her gracious persona.
“This lady is no minor noble, Dave. She carries the blood of House Frazier.”
“What?”
Dave’s jaw dropped in genuine shock.
“Mother, surely you’ve been misinformed?”
“Dave.”
He flinched. The Empress’s smile didn’t waver, but it lacked any warmth.
“You are a prince of the blood. Conduct yourself accordingly.”
“But look at her… she’s dressed like a commoner. No ladies-in-waiting, no escort…”
I was drenched from the storm, which admittedly made my gown look heavy and disheveled. However, calling it shabby was a massive stretch. It was typical of a sheltered prince to equate a bit of rainwater with poverty.
The courtyard fell silent.
In truth, the knights from House Frazier had located me the moment I collided with the Prince. I had caught their eyes and signaled for them to stay back. They were currently standing at a distance, burning with suppressed rage.
This was the White Tower, not our family estate. As an unmarried lady who had yet to make her formal debut, getting into a brawl with the crown was socially perilous. If my knights drew steel, it could be twisted into an armed threat against the throne.
“Dave, offer the lady the courtesy her rank demands.”
Prompted by his mother, Dave reached out a hand with visible reluctance.
“I find this turn of events regrettable, My Lady. Might I have your name? I was unaware you belonged to a cadet branch of the Frazier family…”
“She is not from a branch. She is the direct line.”
The interruption didn’t come from the Empress.
“Who thinks they can cut me off—!”
Dave’s burgeoning anger died in his throat.
Footsteps echoed on the pavement. A shadow fell over me as an umbrella blocked the rain, and a steady, powerful hand reached down to help me up. It felt like a dream.
“Because Tulia is the true granddaughter of Assis Grand Duke Frazier.”
“Grandfather?”
I stared at him, blinking in surprise. I hadn’t expected him back so soon. Had he skipped his business at the Imperial Palace entirely to come straight here? The timing was impossible otherwise.
But my shock was nothing compared to Dave’s. The Second Prince’s face went ghostly pale, resembling a small animal cornered by a predator.
“G-Grand Duke Frazier…?”
“That is ‘Grand Duke, Your Highness’ to you.”
His voice was a low, terrifying rumble that felt like a physical weight.
“It seems the Second Prince is still struggling with basic manners.”
Dave’s face flushed a deep, embarrassed red. Ignoring the boy’s discomfort, the Grand Duke stared down at him with eyes of ice.
“By the established laws of the Briyang Empire, I, as a Grand Duke, am entitled to formal honorifics from a mere prince.”
If I had said that, Dave would have exploded. But facing the man who stood like a tiger over a deer, he could only tremble.
“Ruk Kelfosher.”
“I am here, Your Highness.”
“Provide the Second Prince with a demonstration of a proper greeting.”
Ruk stepped forward and stood beside the Prince. With a curt, efficient bow, he spoke.
“I offer my respects to Grand Duke Frazier, Your Highness. I am Second Prince Dave Evichkait.”
The greeting was stripped of the flowery language usually reserved for the throne. It was a pointed reminder of the hierarchy: the Imperial Family addressing the nobility. According to the ancient protocols, Dave was effectively the Grand Duke’s subordinate in this specific exchange.
This was the core of the world’s power structure. In the original game, House Frazier was the only power capable of standing toe-to-toe with the crown, a fact that was becoming very clear.
“Now, Prince.”
Dave remained silent.
“Repeat the greeting as you were shown.”
Still nothing.
“My patience is famously short.”
The Prince jumped. He was only fifteen, the same age as Tulia. Despite his title, he was just a terrified child standing before a legend.
“I… I offer my respects to Grand Duke Frazier, Your Highness. I am S-Second Prince Dave Evichkait.”
Hoping to escape, Dave tried to scuttle back toward the Empress’s shadow.
“Stay.”
The Prince froze.
“I would like an explanation for the muddy footprint on my granddaughter’s chest.”
Dave’s eyes went wide. I was equally stunned. My grandfather had the keen, observant eyes of the master knight he once was.
The Grand Duke looked up at the clearing sky, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper.
“Explain to me, Second Prince, why there is a boot print over my granddaughter’s heart, rather than just the hem of her skirt?”
“I… that is…”
“Or perhaps you would prefer to offer her a formal apology first?”
The Grand Duke’s lethal gaze locked onto the boy, offering no way out.
