Chapter 6: The Gift

"Let us welcome Countess Solene to our circle." The Empress’s voice carried a hint of languid defiance, her ambition laid bare in the dim light of the chamber.

Today, the Empress was dressed in an androgynous style—high-waisted white trousers paired with a magnificent green tunic that signaled her absolute authority. Her hair was swept back completely, making it difficult to discern her gender at a glance. She sat with one leg crossed over the other in a sprawling, open posture, leaning half-back in her chair. She exuded an invisible pressure that rendered the atmosphere heavy and suffocating.

Beside her, a Count sat with his head down, scribbling and revising notes as if recording every detail. Meanwhile, the others in the room fixed their gazes on Solene like a pack of hungry wolves.

Unperturbed, Solene produced a folded piece of paper and pushed it gently into the center of the table.

The elder Marquises seated on either side of the Empress exchanged a look, and one of them motioned for the paper to be passed along. Upon reading the contents, the old Marquis smiled and began to clap. "Welcome to our ranks, Countess Solene!" Seeing the two most powerful figures applauding, the others followed suit, and the room erupted in a thunderous ovation.

The Empress studied the paper with a smile while simultaneously scrutinizing Solene. Rumors had always painted Solene as a beautiful fool who knew only how to win friends with expensive gifts—someone from whom anyone could extract a fortune with a mere show of kindness.

"Countess Solene, if this plan succeeds, you shall sit in this very position," the Empress said, raising her scepter and letting it rest lightly on the seat of one of the Marquises.

The Marquis being pointed at looked displeased, tilting his head back in silent contemplation. As the white paper circulated, the Count who had been scribbling beside Solene looked at her in shock, thinking to himself:

What a ruthless character.

Solene maintained her smile throughout. She knew she had to demonstrate her value; otherwise, she would face a dead end. Both the Emperor’s and Empress’s factions wished to eliminate her, and even the old Duke supporting the Crown Prince likely harbored resentment toward her.

"Your Imperial Majesty, this plan requires time. For now, I can only offer minor assistance regarding other matters. As for the movements of the Emperor’s faction, I must rely on the strength of everyone here to suppress them," Solene said with earnest humility.

The Empress’s gaze swept across the room. The Count sitting opposite Solene smiled, staring directly into her eyes as he replied, "Rest easy, Countess Solene."

However, Solene caught a flicker of revulsion in his eyes, raising her suspicion of this young man. He appeared to be around her age, but his casual, "devil-may-care" demeanor was clearly a mask meant to deceive.

After a few brief exchanges, the consultation concluded. The Empress invited the group to stay for lunch.

Solene stood upon the balcony, gazing out at the magnificent vista of the Imperial Palace. Clusters of fresh flowers were punctuated by exquisite white sculptures; the various fountains made the grounds look like the garden of a god.

Earlier, on that piece of paper, Solene had detailed a plan to launch multiple lines of gemstones of varying quality. She intended to donate them generously to stage actors in exchange for stories woven around the jewels to be spread among the masses. She planned for her and the Crown Prince to wear these gems at their engagement banquet as a promotional highlight.

Yet, this was only the beginning. The ultimate goal was to have the Empress’s mages infuse these stones with an Imperial forbidden art—a Black Magic curse designed to erode the hearts and minds of those who wore them. Once the commoners and low-ranking nobles were under control, they would become pawns for the Empress to wipe out the opposing faction.

It was a scheme so sinister and ruthless it was almost unbelievable. Solene cared nothing for the lives involved; she cared only for the fruit of victory. The Empress had neither explicitly rejected nor accepted the proposal, implying she would attempt the implementation but would reserve the final decision on using the forbidden art for herself.

As Solene was lost in thought, a pair of warm hands suddenly covered her eyes.

"Guess who?" a crisp, youthful voice chirped. Who else would dare to play with her so boldly?

Solene’s voice was soft and lingering. "I guess... it must be the Little Sun of the Empire."

Before she could finish, he pulled her into a tight embrace from behind.

"Correct! So, what would you like as a reward?" he asked expectantly.

Following the momentum of the moment, Solene replied casually, "I hope that on our engagement day, I can wear my favorite pink gemstone ring."

Traditionally, royal rings were prepared by the Imperial household. Solene’s request was a move to have the Vaisman family claim that honor for themselves.

"Of course. I’ll speak with my mother," the boy promised without hesitation.

Solene felt a secret surge of surprise. She had expected this to require the Empress’s direct intervention, yet the boy had solved the problem with such ease. Surely, the Empress would hold her in even higher regard now.

Solene turned with a smile, looking into his clear blue eyes and the innocence within them. Once again, a wave of irritation rose in her heart.

"Would you... kiss my forehead?" Ian asked softly, his gentle gaze fixed on her.

"Why?" Solene asked, feigning confusion.

Ian’s cheeks flushed a light pink, his eyes darting away. "Roan’s travelogues mention that high noon is the moment the God of Love was born. If you kiss your lover’s forehead at this moment, the couple will be blessed with eternal love."

Solene’s fingers twitched. She stood on her tiptoes, resting her hands on his shoulders. Ian bent his knees slightly, and Solene pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

Even now, she couldn't understand why Ian loved her.

Full of joy, Ian gripped her hand tightly and led her toward his mother’s palace. In front of the other Marquises and Counts, he unabashedly announced his desire to use a Vaisman family ring for the engagement and expressed his wish to lunch with Solene afterward.

The room fell into silence. No one had expected things to move so rapidly. The previously nonchalant Count now looked rigid; his reaction caught Solene’s attention. She searched her memory for information on him: a blue gemstone crest—that was the mark of Count Dana, the new head of the Laurent family. His family was famous for its advanced agriculture and several magic stone mines. They were mostly artists, excelling particularly in painting.

"Solene, open it and see." Ian’s voice broke her train of thought. He had led her gently into the Palace’s rear garden and was handing her an exquisite box.

Standing behind a swing, the boy said tenderly, "Please, sit."

Solene hadn't realized that the white swing was custom-made for her, engraved with special characters. Ian had carved them himself:

To Solene.

The creation of this exclusive swing was born of a chance occurrence. At a banquet, Ian had overheard Solene speaking to a daughter of a Marquis. Solene had sighed, expressing her love for the Marquis’s swing while sadly revealing she had none at home and lacked the courage to ask her father for one.

In reality, this had been a small strategy by Solene to humble herself and make the Marquis’s daughter feel superior and pleased. It wasn't that she had no swing at home; it had simply been torn down. That swing had been the only memory Caleb’s mother had left him—he used to sit on it with her in the sun when he was small. He had told Solene about it, and Solene had told Liliana. Because her mother wanted to provoke Caleb, she had convinced Dagon to tear it down and build a small fountain in its place. This decision had caused an unprecedented rift between Caleb and Dagon, destroying their relationship for good.

As the box slowly opened, a massive pink magic stone emitting a delicate glow came into view. The Imperial family controlled the nation's largest magic stone mines and strictly regulated the flow of every stone. To give such a precious object as a gift was an extraordinary gesture.

"Do you like it? At night, it emits a soft pink light, like the Milky Way in the night sky," the boy’s clear voice spoke again.

Solene stroked the magic stone—larger than her two fists combined—and her lips curved upward. "I love it. Thank you, Your Highness," she whispered.

"Just call me Ian," he replied with a laugh. "Let me push you."

Solene turned her head, smiling into those blue, gem-like eyes. "Can I kiss your cheek? I truly don't know how else to express my thanks..."

Her hair fluttered in the breeze, the white fur of her collar and her golden strands teasing Ian’s hand as it rested on the back of the seat. Ian’s eyes widened slightly as he leaned in, and Solene pressed a kiss to his cheek.

At that moment, time seemed to stand still. The birds grew quiet, and even the most brilliant flowers became mere background.

In a high window of the building behind them, several figures watched in silence. The Emperor observed the scene with a calm gaze; beside him, the female knight’s brow was furrowed in clear disapproval. On the other side, a Marchioness clenched her fists, her eyes shimmering with complex emotions.

"The Crown Prince should not fall in love with someone from the Empress’s side," the knight said grimly.

The Emperor did not respond immediately, staring at the two youths as he sank into his own memories.

"He will fall into danger because of that woman," the Marchioness added, her voice trembling as she fought to contain her feelings.

The Emperor remained still, casting a sidelong glance at the Marchioness. "As long as those two old Dukes are still around, it won't be so easy for the Crown Prince to fall into trouble."

At the dining table, Solene looked at the spread of fine delicacies. The seats for the Emperor and Empress were empty. The Crown Prince sat in his assigned chair, looking as if he were waiting for people who would never come.

Solene sat beside Ian. The dishes on the table seemed to have been placed intentionally out of her reach. It was as if the servants were deliberately making things difficult for her, as standing up would be a breach of table etiquette. She kept her head down, slowly eating the bread and fruit already on her plate.

Ian noticed her discomfort. Ignoring all etiquette, he stood up and moved the distant dishes closer to her. The surrounding servants widened their eyes in shock, but they remained bowed and respectful, hiding their inner turmoil.

"They won't come anyway. They’re probably eating with their ministers right now," Ian said calmly, continuing his meal.

For some reason, Solene suddenly felt he was lonely—in this palace full of schemes and power plays, someone like him would naturally be isolated.

Thinking of this, Solene offered a small smile. "I’d like to stay and finish afternoon tea with you. It would be a good chance to meet your friends early."

As soon as the words left her mouth, even she felt a bit surprised. She didn't quite understand why she had offered to stay with him. Ignoring the doubt, she told herself:

I'm only doing this to get to know more high-ranking noble children.

At the same time, she cautioned herself to think more carefully before speaking next time.