Chapter 16
“Don’t you feel the same, Princess?”
He whispered as he pressed a kiss to her fingertips. Charlize quickly pulled her hand away, flustered. Achilles let her go without resistance, but there was unmistakable regret in his eyes.
What kind of expression would he have made if I’d bitten his finger instead…?
His gaze was so intense, it made her glance at him—only to turn away just as quickly. She began walking ahead to avoid meeting his eyes. Achilles followed after her at once.
“Your ears are red, Princess.”
“Whose fault do you think that is?”
Even her glare was adorable. Achilles, suppressing the urge to kiss the corner of her eyes, spoke softly.
“My heart’s racing because of you, too.”
And wasn’t that enough?
Her lips curved into a small smile, and a barely-there smile tugged at his lips in return. It felt like her smile was an answer to his whisper.
At the end of the corridor, the hallway opened into a sun-drenched colonnade. The golden light of the setting sun poured in as the two walked side by side, fingers intertwined.
There was still plenty of time before the ball.
The Duchess of Bianchi was not looking forward to this imperial ball.
She felt nothing but irritation at the thought of seeing the princess, once so obedient, acting differently now. The quiet disdain of the other nobles didn’t help either.
“How could they do this to me? Even His Majesty! After all the years our house has been loyal to the crown—how could he ignore us like this?”
Even as she finished dressing and checked her appearance in the mirror, she continued to vent. The maid beside her fanned her diligently, trying to calm her down—but it was no use.
“Where’s Valter? What’s that boy doing?”
“The young lord has been quiet in his room since he came back, My Lady.”
“That’s not like him! He’s not the type to sleep in. When he’s upset, he goes straight to the training grounds to blow off steam with his sword. But today… nothing!”
In truth, Valter had only returned to the mansion late that morning after a long night spent evading the palace guards. But unaware of that, the duchess only blamed the Emperor.
“His Majesty should’ve known how the princess felt! How could he do this?”
‘Well, isn’t it true that Her Highness has already fallen for the Tower Master?’
The maid bit her tongue. She was dying to say it, but held back. The last person who mentioned that during a banquet had been scolded harshly.
“How dare you presume to interpret the depth of Her Highness’s heart?” the duchess had snapped. But it was ridiculous. What—just because she’d loved him for over ten years, she was supposed to love only him forever?
Even as she preached loyalty and longing, the Duchess couldn’t hide her resentment. Thirteen years of love, gone in a matter of days? Was that even possible? To her, it made Charlize seem as fickle as a reed in the wind.
The engagement between the princess and the Tower Master had only been announced recently. And already, Charlize’s heart had shifted?
“My son—my Valter—is worth more than that man whose origins we don’t even know! Let them find out his lowly bloodline and regret this later!”
The duchess had seen the Tower Master before. Yes, his appearance was striking enough to steal anyone’s breath. She could understand how the princess might have been momentarily bewitched—but it still stung.
After all, there was no better match than Valter. Even marrying into foreign royalty wouldn’t compare to being joined with the Empire’s princess.
“She should’ve kept loving our son. That would’ve been right. That would’ve made sense.”
Her thoughts turned bitter.
“That marriage needs to be stopped. What is Adam even doing?!”
She gritted her teeth, thinking of the Duke of Bianchi. All he’d said for days was “We’re still investigating.”
The shame of it all—something she never imagined would happen back when they were still in talks with the imperial family—was unbearable.
Back when that proposal had first come up, she thought there was no rush. Charlize had always tiptoed around Valter so much that she assumed it could happen any time.
Now, she realized that had been a grave miscalculation.
“I thought the princess would charm the Emperor in due time—whether for an engagement or marriage.”
The duchess had hoped to raise the stakes, aiming for a grand ducal title—but that plan had crumbled. The fact that the Tower Master was now expected to receive that very title made her burn with frustration.
The Bianchi family wanted that title for the future. With their influence, marrying the princess could have eventually led to a claim for the throne.
The current Crown Prince, after all, had remained unmarried ever since his fiancée died from illness. The Emperor, well aware of this, had grown wary of the Bianchi ambitions.
On the other hand, the Tower Master’s unclear lineage made it nearly impossible for any child born from his union with the princess to rise to the throne. That had been their one hope.
“That damn man! As if allowing the Bianchi’s one royal bloodline would ruin everything!”
The duchess glared into the mirror, her reflection sharp and unforgiving. She felt like going back in time just to slap her past self for opposing the engagement.
As Duke Adam Bianchi entered the palace, his expression was cold and grim.
He had made bold promises to his son, Valter—but the truth was, he hadn’t found a single shred of solid evidence.
In a world where “proof” could be fabricated, when necessary, such tricks only worked when your opponent wasn’t backed by the imperial family. But this time, the Emperor himself stood behind the Tower Master.
“He’s made up his mind. Even if royal blood flows through the Bianchis, we’ll never be allowed near the throne.”
As nobles came to greet him, Duke Bianchi softened his expression, putting on the face of a calm and dignified aristocrat. He had to make it look like the Bianchis had never desired the princess—that it had been the Emperor who pursued Valter, not the other way around.
One by one, nobles came to offer their greetings—but all of them were subtly glancing at his side.
Valter was nowhere to be seen.
Everyone knew Valter had been placed under house arrest—everyone but the princess, who had been kept in the dark by the Emperor. The nobles exchanged glances full of unspoken judgment, and it made the duke’s blood boil.
“Foolish boy!”
He had once commanded the princess with a nod. Now he was creating scenes. If they had at least been lovers, he might have been more forgiving. But they had never even reached the point of a proper confession—just over ten years of vague longing, and then he handed her over to someone else.
The memory alone made his stomach turn.
He’d driven away every other young nobleman who might have approached her—only to let Valter idle on the sidelines.
“I heard the Tower Master arrived two hours early just to escort the princess personally.”
While his son hovered in ambiguity, the Tower Master had already made bold, unmistakable moves. Of course, being associated with the royal family meant Achilles wouldn’t act inappropriately like common nobles might—but the very idea made the duke’s chest tighten.
“If she ends up pregnant, the Emperor will do everything he can to cover up the Tower Master’s origins.”
If only Valter could be near her now—to at least remind her to be careful. But thanks to that night’s fiasco, both Valter and the duke himself had fallen out of the Crown Prince’s favor.
Duke Bianchi spotted another ducal family across the ballroom and felt his face tighten. He forced a neutral expression, but he could feel the scorn in their eyes.
These were the same people who once tread carefully around the Bianchi’s, thinking a royal wedding was imminent. Now that it was clearly not happening, they were eager to settle old scores.
“Wretched snakes…”
But the game wasn’t over yet.
Until the vows were spoken, no one knew for sure who the bride and groom would be.
“We’ll see. All of you…”
Grinding his teeth silently, Adam Bianchi walked calmly through the hall with a mask of composure. Today, he would simply endure.
Night had fully fallen, and the sky was alive with starlight. The Emperor smiled with quiet satisfaction as he looked upon the princess and the Tower Master, who stood close with the ease of familiarity. The Crown Prince, by contrast, watched them with a curious, unreadable expression.
Charlize felt her cheeks burn under their gaze. But she didn’t dare ask why they were staring—she already knew it would only lead to teasing.
“Your Majesty.”
A court attendant stepped forward to announce that it was time. The Emperor stood tall and led the way into the ballroom. With the Empress still away on a diplomatic mission, he entered alone—but the Crown Prince followed close behind, filling the gap.
“If only that one would settle down…”
The Emperor glanced briefly at Oscar, disappointed. The Crown Prince still hadn’t let go of his late fiancée’s memory, and arranging a marriage for him remained difficult. Even today, the Emperor had suggested he enter the ball with a noble lady from a marquess family—but Oscar had refused.
As stubborn as he was, political matchmaking would be nearly impossible.
Still, the Emperor had made up his mind. Even if he had to lower his standards, he would approve a match from a count’s family—anything to secure the succession.
“At this rate, I really might have to name one of Charlize’s children as heir… damn it, Oscar.”
Casting a sidelong glance at his son, the Emperor let out a quiet sigh and surveyed the ballroom.
The announcement of his arrival echoed across the hall, and everyone—including the highest-ranking nobles—bowed deeply. Even the dukes, including Duke and Duchess Bianchi, were no exception.
The Emperor’s gaze landed directly on them, sharp and unreadable.
Then he spoke.
“Raise your heads. I welcome you all tonight to this gathering…”
Behind the Crown Prince stood Achilles, and beside him, Princess Charlize—her hand gently resting on his arm.
She looked out at the crowd with a ceremonial smile, regal and calm, standing proudly at Achilles’ side.
