Chapter 162: The noble women’s hatred towards Princess Seraphina

"At the cost of treason, the Duke had endured, all for his lover." Lady Elara quoted, and they squealed, losing their dignified composure and all seeming like fan girls.

They did not seem to care that he was a man being loved by another man. A love story was still a love story, and the most enticing one was that of forbidden romance, going against all norms and customs to be together.

What could get their hearts racing more than that?

​As the ladies swooned, the Empress gently tapped her porcelain cup with a silver teaspoon. The chime brought a sudden, heavy silence, and all the ladies composed themselves in an instant.

The Empress was about to speak.

Julian looked at the Empress, her faded amber eyes fixed on him more sharply than before.

​"Master Astrea," she began, her voice softening, more than it had been with all that dryness in her throat. "May I offer a word of advice?"

​Julian’s breath caught, but he swallowed the tightness in his throat and inclined his head. "I would be honored, Your Majesty."

​"He who wields the sharpest sword may seem invincible," she said, her eyes steady. "But take heed; that very blade is often the instrument of his own downfall."

​The words struck Julian’s heart, as if the sword itself had pierced him.

The Duke’s love was a double-edged sword: one side forged to protect him, the other to cut down his enemies. But Julian found himself staring at the imagery of the blade in his mind.

Yes, it was strong and powerful, but then...

​Where was the tip of this powerful sword pointed? And more importantly, at whom?

In this palace, under the numerous eyes that belong to the Emperor, that sword caught way too much glint. And it was an annoyance to the Emperor.

He had to be careful.

Julian felt the weight of her gaze, but for some reason, he felt no pressure at all. He let out a thin, soft exhale.

"I shall keep your words close to my heart, Your Majesty," Julian replied, feeling the Empress’s intent. "Your wisdom is a gift I did not expect, but one I shall surely treasure."

The Empress leaned back, the porcelain clinking softly as she set her spoon aside. Then, she offered him her warmest smile—a look of such maternal radiance that, for a fleeting second, one might forget she was the most dangerous woman in the Empire despite her condition.

"I am glad, Master Astrea," she said softly, her tone like velvet over iron. "For in this palace, the only thing more fragile than a heart is a reputation."

He bowed his head lightly, and Liora called out to a maid.

"My Master’s tea cup is empty," she said. "It is time for a refill."

"Oh, mine too,"

"Oh dear, with that exciting conversation, I didn’t even realize it. My tea cup is also empty."

As the maids came to refill the tea cups with hot steaming tea, made from exquisite tea leaves, the conversation continued.

It flowed so naturally after that, moving from Julian’s love life to the difficulties of noble lineages, and then to the latest musical compositions arriving from the Southern coast.

Under the cover of the light chatter, Julian reached for a small, lemon-zest macaroon.

He had been enjoying the tea so far, but he could not dare to pick up the sweets.

He took a cautious bite, expecting his stomach to rebel as it had that morning. Instead, the sharp sweetness cut through the lingering anxiety. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

He felt the heavy, suffocating weight on his chest finally loosen.

> [Mental Stability: 28% — Status: Stabilizing]

The hollow ache was still there, and his skin still burned beneath his collar, but for this one hour, he didn’t feel like a shadow or a prisoner. He was just a man, a noble in a gathering.

His peace lasted until he looked past the floral arrangements toward the glass perimeter.

Far across the courtyard, framed by the grey stone of a distant archway, stood Princess Seraphina. She looked like a paper cutout against the darkness of the hall behind her. She wasn’t moving, merely watching the tea party with an intensity that felt like a needle pressing against Julian’s skin.

When their eyes finally locked, her lips curved into a slow, knowing smile—the kind of smile shared between two people who know the floor is about to give way. She didn’t wave or speak; she simply turned and vanished into the shadows of the corridor.

"Master Astrea?" Lady Genevieve’s voice broke the trance. "I asked if the North has similar glassworks, or if you rely entirely on imports?"

Julian blinked, realizing he had been staring at the empty archway for a beat too long. The Empress followed his gaze, her eyes narrowing as she caught the tail end of Seraphina’s white dress retreating into the dark.

"Do you know Princess Seraphina, Master Astrea?" the Empress asked, her tone suddenly guarded.

Julian shook his head immediately, a cold sweat breaking out on his neck.

"I have never even come in contact with Her Highness, Your Majesty. I was merely... momentarily distracted by the play of light on the stonework." The Empress nodded.

It looked like she wasn’t very fond of the princess either. No one would, not when she had done such a disgraceful thing to bring shame to the Imperial family.

The noble ladies exchanged looks that were no longer curious but deeply wary.

The mention of Seraphina had effectively sucked the warmth out of the Conservatory.

The conversation shifted instantly, the women speaking in hushed, coded phrases, careful to keep the details away from Liora’s young ears. They spoke of ’the incident at the Summer Palace,’ and the ’leech’ as their voices dropped to a tone that sounded indistinguishable from disgust.

"She is a... delicate subject," Lady Selene whispered, her eyes darting toward the door as if Seraphina might reappear. "One does well not to catch her eye for too long. They say she sees things the rest of us are fortunate enough to miss."

"Hmph!" Lady Elara slapped her fan shut, clearly vexed. "Do you think that’s why she could not stick to one bed chamber?"

The Empress cleared her throat, her weak amber eyes suddenly turning to a blade pointed at Lady Elara for her remark, and she lowered her head, apologizing right away.

"Apologies, Your Majesty. I shall watch my tongue more carefully."