The chandeliers of the Kurotsuki estate burned with cold brilliance.
Crystal light reflected against polished marble floors and rows of gilded pillars. Servants had long since been dismissed from the west wing; heavy velvet curtains sealed the windows, muting the moonlight outside. Only the low crackle of the fireplace accompanied the tense air inside the grand conference hall.
Around an elongated obsidian table sat over a dozen nobles.
Silk robes embroidered with golden cranes.
Velvet coats lined with silver thread.
Jeweled rings resting on folded fingers.
They looked magnificent.
And deeply dissatisfied.
At the head of the table stood a tall, sharp-faced man with streaks of gray in his black hair. His crimson coat bore the crest of a falcon pierced by a spear.
Lord Kurotsuki Masanori.
The de facto leader of the Parley Faction.
He surveyed the room before speaking.
"Good evening, honored lords and ladies."
A murmur of acknowledgments followed.
"Lord Ishibashi-dono.""Lady Moriyama.""Baron Kanda.""Countess Aoyagi."
Masanori's smile was polite.
Empty.
"I appreciate that you answered my summons so swiftly. I trust the matter at hand is… mutually urgent."
The nobles exchanged glances. No one denied it.
The Parley Faction.
The Empire's most overlooked collective of houses.
Not powerful enough to rival the Five Pillars.
Not weak enough to be erased.
They were something worse.
A laughing stock.
At imperial banquets, they were seated near the end of the hall.
In court assemblies, their proposals rarely passed.
When alliances were forged, they were afterthoughts.
They were not a sub-faction of any of the Five Great Families. They had chosen independence decades ago.
And independence had cost them influence.
Masanori folded his hands behind his back.
"As you are all aware," he began calmly, "we have obtained reliable information regarding the chosen consorts of His Highness the Crown Prince."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
He turned slightly.
"Lady Chinen Suzuki."
A few nods.
"Lady Takigawa Rei."
Tension rose.
"Lady Sarada Himeko."
A frustrated scoff came from somewhere down the table.
"And… Lady Shinegori Akane."
The name lingered.
Baron Kanda suddenly slammed his palm against the table.
"Unbelievable!"
The crystal glasses rattled violently.
"My daughter was among the preliminary selections!" he roared, face flushed. "She studied diplomacy since childhood! She mastered three foreign tongues! And yet she was cast aside for—"
"For bloodlines stronger than ours," Countess Aoyagi interrupted bitterly.
Murmurs erupted.
"My niece as well."
"My sister trained in court etiquette for years!"
"They dangled hope before us—"
"And snatched it away!"
The frustration in the room grew into a unified simmer.
Masanori allowed it for a moment.
Then—
CLANG.
A metal shard embedded itself into the far stone wall.
Silence crushed the hall.
All eyes shifted.
Masanori's arm was still extended from the throw. His expression had hardened into something sharp and cold.
"Compose yourselves."
His voice was no longer polite.
"It is precisely because we lack composure that we are treated as decorations."
The nobles lowered their gazes.
He continued.
"The structure of the Empire has not changed for generations. At the top stands the Imperial House — the Hoshimi Family."
Above all.
Beneath them — the Five Pillars.
Takigawa.
Shinegori.
Chinen.
Sarada.
And most especially…
Sumeragi.
The name alone carried weight.
Masanori's jaw tightened slightly.
"The Sumeragi Family alone controls nearly half of the Empire's functional departments — finance, magical research, infrastructure, military logistics. Even without a consort, their influence remains absolute."
A noble cautiously raised a hand.
"Then… perhaps we should cooperate with the Sumeragi household? They too were not granted a consort position."
Several murmured in agreement.
Masanori's eyes darkened.
"Do you think Duke Sumeragi Arata would lower himself to bargain with us?"
No one answered.
"Our values are incompatible. The Sumeragis believe in direct dominance through capability. We rely on negotiation and coalition. To them, we are inefficient."
He exhaled sharply.
"Duke Arata would not spare us a glance."
There was unmistakable hatred beneath his composed tone.
The room grew quiet again.
Suggestions followed.
"Bribe a court official?"
"Spread rumors?"
"Arrange marriages with distant relatives?"
Each idea was dismantled within moments.
Useless.
Desperate.
Cowardly.
Until—
The doors creaked open.
Every noble stiffened.
A hooded man stepped inside.
His footsteps echoed calmly against the marble.
"Why not dethrone one of them?"
The voice was smooth.
Measured.
Masanori narrowed his eyes.
"Dethrone?"
The hooded man stepped forward, lowering his hood.
Gasps filled the room.
Silver hair neatly combed back.
A dignified posture despite plain attire.
It was Fujimoto Genji.
The former Head Butler of the Imperial Palace.
Recently dismissed.
Rumor claimed he had spoken bluntly against an imperial decree — offending the Emperor himself.
Masanori folded his arms.
"So the whispers were true. You are our source."
Genji gave a shallow bow.
"The secrecy surrounding the consorts' names exists to prevent targeted sabotage. All who knew were bound by vow."
His gaze swept the room.
"But vows can be… interpreted."
A few nobles shifted uncomfortably.
Masanori spoke.
"And you suggest we dethrone one?"
Genji nodded.
"Before they are officially introduced at the Crown Prince's birthday celebration, they are vulnerable."
He began pacing slowly.
"A single scandal. One irreparable stain. That is all it would take."
Baron Kanda leaned forward eagerly.
"But such plans require knowledge of the target—"
"Which you now possess," Genji finished.
The weight of that truth settled heavily.
Masanori studied him carefully.
"What do you gain from this, Fujimoto?"
Genji's lips curved faintly.
"One final service before retirement."
Silence.
Then, softer—
"I wish to witness the Imperial Family panic."
The confession sent a ripple through the room.
Masanori's eyes gleamed.
"And which consort do you propose we strike?"
Genji stopped walking.
"That depends on your appetite for risk."
He raised one finger.
"Chinen Suzuki. Gentle reputation. Popular among commoners. Ruining her image would require fabricating moral misconduct."
Second finger.
"Takigawa Rei. Politically guarded. Striking her risks retaliation from the Takigawa military bloc."
Third.
"Sarada Himeko. Scholarly. Soft-spoken. But the Sarada network within the court archives is vast."
Finally—
"Shinegori Akane."
The name lingered like a blade.
"A merchant prodigy. Ambitious. Feared."
Genji's eyes sharpened.
"And perhaps the most volatile."
A murmur of interest spread.
Countess Aoyagi whispered, "If she falls, the Shinegori influence weakens considerably…"
Baron Kanda nodded. "And the merchant trade networks would destabilize."
Masanori remained silent, thinking.
Genji continued.
"She is aggressive. Ruthless in negotiations. If one were to expose questionable business practices… or forge evidence of corruption…"
"Forgery?" one noble whispered nervously.
Genji smiled faintly.
"Scandal need not be true. Only convincing."
The room began to stir with dark excitement.
Masanori slowly returned to his seat.
"Suppose we proceed. What prevents investigation from clearing her name?"
Genji's eyes flickered.
"Timing."
He leaned forward.
"The announcement ceremony. Thousands of eyes. Nobles from every faction present. If allegations surface publicly during the celebration…"
Understanding dawned.
"She would be forced to defend herself immediately," Masanori muttered.
"And hesitation," Genji added softly, "is guilt in the court's eyes."
Silence fell once more.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Masanori tapped his fingers against the table.
"If we succeed," he said slowly, "the Parley Faction gains leverage. The vacancy creates chaos. We present a 'stabilizing' candidate from our ranks."
Baron Kanda's breathing quickened.
"My daughter—"
"Will be considered," Masanori said calmly.
Ambition ignited across every face.
Finally—
Masanori stood.
"Very well."
He looked around the table.
"We cannot remain spectators while the Five Pillars consolidate further control."
His voice rose.
"The Parley Faction will not fade quietly into obscurity!"
Fists struck the table in agreement.
Genji watched them with quiet amusement.
Masanori's final words cut through the hall.
"We begin preparations immediately. Gather information. Study Shinegori Akane's movements. Identify weaknesses."
His gaze hardened.
"If we must become villains to survive…"
He allowed the sentence to trail.
The nobles understood.
The chandeliers flickered slightly as a draft passed through the sealed room.
Genji adjusted his gloves.
"Do send me the plan once finalized," he said lightly. "I would hate to miss the spectacle."
He turned toward the door.
"And Lord Masanori."
The leader looked up.
"Be certain your blade does not slip."
A faint smile.
"For the Empire devours those who fail."
The doors closed behind him.
The room remained silent for several long seconds.
Then—
Whispers began again.
Dark.
Scheming.
Hopeful.
Far away, unaware of the gathering storm, alliances were being forged.
And somewhere between ambition and desperation—
The Parley Faction had chosen their target.
The Empire would soon feel the first tremor.
The Golden Palace shimmered beneath the evening sky like a second sun brought down to earth.
Every archway was wrapped in cascading strands of golden silk. Lanterns shaped like blooming chrysanthemums floated along enchanted currents of air, casting warm light over polished marble floors. Servants hurried across the vast corridors, their soft-soled shoes whispering against stone as they carried trays of crystal glasses, adjusted banners bearing the crest of the Hoshimi Family, and performed final inspections of every ornamental detail.
Tonight was no ordinary banquet.
It was the Crown Prince's birthday celebration.
And more importantly—
The night the chosen consorts would be officially announced.
Within the eastern wing of the palace, inside a spacious dressing chamber adorned with full-length mirrors and carved ivory vanities, two young women stood surrounded by attendants.
Princess Aya — the eldest daughter of the imperial household — was currently in distress.
"Is this too much?" she asked, turning her head slightly so the light caught the jewels woven into her hair. "Does the ruby clash with the embroidery?"
Her reflection revealed a vision of elegance: a layered crimson gown trimmed with gold thread, long dark hair styled in cascading curls. Yet her composure — normally flawless — was fractured by anxiety.
Behind her, seated comfortably on a cushioned stool, Princess Izumi observed in stunned silence.
This could not be her sister.
Princess Aya of the Empire was known for composure sharper than a blade. She never stumbled over words. Never hesitated. Never displayed excess emotion.
But for the past month…
She had been insufferably human.
"Waaaaaaaaaaah!" Aya suddenly groaned, clutching her cheeks. "What if he doesn't compliment me?! Izumi, should I switch to the purple set instead? Does purple look more dignified? Or is ruby warmer? Did I eat too much this week? I gained half a pound!"
Izumi blinked slowly.
Half a pound.
She resisted the urge to sigh.
Her sister — the Empire's perfect princess — was panicking like a girl meeting her first crush.
Which… technically she was.
"Sister," Izumi said gently, rising and walking over, "you look beautiful."
Aya turned dramatically. "That's not the point!"
She grabbed another accessory — this time an emerald hairpin — holding it up against her temple.
"Maybe green gives a more refined aura? Izumi, help your elder sister out!"
Izumi leaned forward and lightly poked Aya's cheek.
"You're overthinking."
Aya froze.
Izumi tilted her head innocently. "You're going to a royal celebration. Not a confession meeting."
Aya's face turned faintly pink.
"…It's not like that."
Izumi's expression was unimpressed.
It absolutely was like that.
Who was responsible for reducing the imperial princess into this flustered state?
Only one person.
Sumeragi Rin.
Ever since their first encounter a month ago, Aya had replayed it endlessly. The composed genius heir of the Sumeragi Family had spoken to her without flattery. Without stiffness. Without fear.
He had looked at her as if she were simply… a person.
And that alone had shaken her more than any courtly admiration ever could.
Izumi crossed her arms, watching as Aya anxiously adjusted her sleeves again.
Love really does strange things to people, she thought.
Before she could comment further, a head attendant entered and bowed.
"Your Highnesses. It is nearly time."
Aya inhaled deeply, pressing her palms against her chest.
"Right… right."
For a moment, the anxious girl disappeared.
Her shoulders straightened.
Her chin lifted.
The imperial princess returned.
But Izumi could still see the tiny flicker of nervous anticipation in her sister's eyes.
Outside the palace grounds, the streets of the imperial capital were filled with carriages forming an elegant procession.
Crests gleamed under lantern light.
Takigawa.
Chinen.
Sarada.
Shinegori.
And—
The silver crest of spatial sigils.
A carriage bearing the emblem of the Sumeragi Family rolled steadily toward the palace gates.
Inside, two figures sat across from one another.
Rin and Harumi.
They wore matching formal attire — simple, refined, perfectly tailored. Rin's dark suit was accented with silver embroidery along the cuffs. Harumi's gown was pale blue with subtle layered patterns that caught the light gently.
They looked, unmistakably, like a pair attending a grand ball together.
Both sighed at the same time.
Earlier that evening, Rin's mother, Lady Nao, had spoken to them at length.
"Enjoy yourselves," she had said warmly.
Which would have been easier—
If they were not walking directly into the central stage of a story they were trying to survive.
Harumi adjusted her hair while Rin held a small mirror in front of her.
"Hold it steady," she muttered.
"My arm hurts," Rin replied flatly.
Harumi ignored him.
After another moment, she nodded. "Done."
Rin immediately lowered the mirror and slid it back into a spatial fold.
Harumi turned to face him, expression serious now.
"Today is the day. Mission objective: check for anomalies. Confirm whether the major characters' personalities match the novel."
Rin made a face.
A very clear I-don't-want-to-do-this face.
Harumi stared blankly at him.
"Young Master. Take this seriously. The fate of the world rests on whether their personalities align correctly."
Rin slouched back against the carriage seat.
"I'm always the one in the frontlines. You'll just stand somewhere observing."
Harumi placed a hand over her chest dramatically.
"I am but a weak girl without magical techniques. Meanwhile, you are the limitless space user of the Sumeragi."
Rin frowned.
"I'm too strong. That's the problem."
Harumi poked his cheek.
"I am emotional support and information relay."
Rin narrowed his eyes and retaliated by pinching her cheek.
"You're a noisy animal in a dress."
"Ywounh Mwaster…" she mumbled through squished lips, "If anythwing whong hwapwens, pwease interfere w-without gwabbing attention…"
He released her.
"I can manage that. If it's not too complicated."
He leaned back and exhaled slowly.
"Though I thought you said nothing was supposed to happen tonight."
Harumi hesitated.
"…That's what the novel says."
Rin closed his eyes.
Mana flowed quietly outward.
His third spell — Isolation.
But applied differently.
Countless microscopic particles of mana dispersed from his body, blending invisibly into the air, settling on walls, floors, clothing, people.
Spacial Recognition.
Everything they touched became part of his awareness.
Positions.
Movements.
Distances.
It was not true omniscience.
But it was close.
"Done," he murmured. "I can scan the palace."
Harumi nodded approvingly.
"Do you have the pendant?" Rin asked suddenly.
She immediately pulled it from within her dress — a delicate silver charm.
"Of course."
"Keep it on you. It'll block a sudden lethal strike once."
Harumi smiled faintly.
"I'll survive. And if things truly go bad…"
She paused, then added lightly:
"I'll run and pray you survive, Young Master."
Rin stared at her.
"You're a terrible maid."
"I am realistic."
The carriage slowed.
Then stopped.
Outside, the sounds of music, laughter, and layered conversations reached them.
The celebration had already begun.
Rin stood first, offering his hand.
Harumi took it gracefully.
Before stepping out, she retrieved a delicate silver mask and secured it over her face.
As a guest attached to the Sumeragi heir, protocol required anonymity.
Rin adjusted his cuffs.
"Let's go."
The carriage door opened.
Golden light spilled inside.
When Rin stepped down onto the palace courtyard stones, conversations nearby quieted subtly.
Nobles noticed.
They always did.
The air carried perfume, polished marble scents, and faint traces of magic.
Harumi followed behind him, posture poised.
Above them, the Golden Palace towered magnificently — banners fluttering, chandeliers glowing through high windows, music drifting from within.
Rin's spacial recognition spread further.
Clusters of nobles near the fountain.
Imperial guards stationed at calculated intervals.
The presence of powerful mages concealed in the upper balconies.
And—
A faint stirring of tension beneath the surface.
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
Harumi stepped beside him.
"Do you feel anything unusual?"
"Not yet," he replied.
But his mana continued to observe.
Inside those grand walls—
Ambitions would collide.
Crushes would bloom.
Schemes would unfold.
And somewhere among the glittering lights of the Golden Palace—
A single deviation from the story could change everything.
Rin adjusted his gloves.
"Stay close."
Harumi smiled behind her mask.
"As you command, Young Master."
Together, they ascended the golden steps.
The doors opened.
And the night truly began.
The doors of the ballroom opened fully as Rin and Harumi stepped inside.
Light poured over them.
The Golden Palace's grand ballroom was vast — its ceiling arched high above like the inside of a cathedral, painted with scenes of the founding of the Empire. Crystal chandeliers floated midair, sustained by magic circles etched invisibly into the air. Their glow bathed the hall in warm gold.
Music drifted from a raised orchestra platform — violins, flutes, and soft percussion blending into an elegant melody that encouraged conversation rather than dance.
And conversation there was.
Clusters of nobles filled the room like carefully arranged bouquets — each group distinguished by crests embroidered onto coats and gowns.
Takigawa blues.
Chinen ivory.
Sarada violet.
Shinegori silver.
And scattered among them, the subdued but unmistakable sigil of spatial interlocking rings.
The Sumeragi.
Rin felt it instantly.
Eyes.
Many of them.
Harumi looped her arm through his as planned. Rin adjusted his posture slightly, offering a steady escort stance. His expression settled into polite composure — neither arrogant nor overly warm.
Beside him, Harumi walked with controlled grace.
Simple pale blue dress.
Silver mask.
Minimal jewelry.
Yet—
They stood out.
Painfully.
Around them swirled nobles draped in embroidered peacock colors, layered fabrics, gemstone tiaras, sleeves so wide they seemed designed to consume space itself.
In contrast, Rin and Harumi looked restrained.
Refined.
Sharp.
The simplicity made the cut of their clothing more obvious. The fit more precise. The elegance more deliberate.
Young noble children began whispering immediately.
"Who are they wearing?"
"Is that new tailoring from the western district?"
"Why does simple look so expensive?"
Harumi trembled slightly.
"Young master…" she whispered under her breath.
Rin leaned closer without turning his head.
"Be confident. Act like you belong."
"I do not belong," she muttered internally, but outwardly she straightened her spine.
To onlookers, her closeness looked possessive.
In reality—
She was clinging for stability.
They made their way toward their designated standing area — conveniently near the long tables lined with delicate desserts and sparkling beverages.
Strategic positioning.
Rin liked options.
No sooner had they arrived than a small wave of Sumeragi-affiliated nobles approached.
"Rin-sama!"
"Young Master Rin!"
A group of well-dressed young men bowed slightly. Behind them, several noble daughters fluttered like carefully trained butterflies.
After all, even without a consort candidate in their faction, the Sumeragi influence was overwhelming. Aligning with the heir early was a safe long-term investment.
Compliments began flowing.
"You look splendid tonight."
"That suit suits you perfectly."
"I heard about your recent research—"
Rin responded with measured politeness.
A nod here.
A brief smile there.
Short, efficient replies that acknowledged without encouraging overfamiliarity.
Meanwhile, Harumi stood close.
Very close.
From the outside, her posture radiated quiet warning.
He's mine.
No one attempted to physically edge her aside.
In reality, she was terrified.
So many eyes.
So many potential "major characters."
She observed everything from behind her mask while chewing nervously on a small tart Rin had discreetly placed into her hand.
Rin, multitasking effortlessly, continued conversation while occasionally reaching to the dessert table.
He offered her a small pastry.
A candied fruit.
A chocolate square.
Each handed over without looking, as though it were second nature.
A few noble girls noticed.
Their smiles stiffened slightly.
The subtle domestic ease between them was… dangerous.
Talk eventually drifted toward the topic everyone anticipated.
"The consort announcement will happen soon."
"I heard all four are from the Five Pillars."
"Of course they are."
One young noble man shrugged. "The Sumeragi faction does not need a consort position. Your family influence is already secured."
Rin smiled faintly. "Influence shifts with time. Nothing is absolute."
It was a neutral answer.
But it carried weight.
Before further discussion could deepen—
A slight hush rippled outward.
White.
That was the first thing most people noticed.
A white dress layered in soft folds like fresh snowfall.
White hair cascading down her back, catching the golden chandelier light.
Shinegori Akane approached with measured steps.
Her expression was composed.
But her eyes were sharp.
"It has been a while, Sir Rin," she greeted smoothly.
Rin met her gaze.
There it was.
That familiar smug undertone.
He found it… amusing.
"The past two weeks have been productive, Lady Akane. I trust you are well."
A subtle current passed between them.
Their partnership.
Their secret workshop.
The barrier device manufacturing plans.
The tools he personally designed.
The alias Ritsu he used while training workers.
None of it public knowledge.
Yet tonight—
It could become visible.
Akane stepped slightly closer, lifting her decorative fan as if to shield her smile.
"I wonder which young ladies will become consorts tonight," she mused lightly.
Her tone was casual.
Her intent was not.
She wanted visibility.
Association.
The murmurs around them increased slightly as nobles noticed the friendly exchange between Sumeragi and Shinegori bloodlines.
Rin followed her lead effortlessly.
"I am curious as well," he replied calmly. "After all, they will compete for the Crown Prince's heart… and eventually the Empress position."
He paused, allowing the implication to settle.
"With such influence, those connected to them would naturally gain greater voice."
Akane's eyes flickered with approval.
Yes.
Let them hear it.
Let them connect the dots.
Rin thought quietly to himself.
I'm already partnered with one of them.
Business only, of course.
He had known the names long ago.
His plan had been simple:
Be polite.
Observe.
Do not entangle emotionally.
But things rarely stayed simple.
Akane's gaze shifted subtly.
To Harumi.
The girl clinging to Rin's arm.
Matching color palette.
Matching tone.
Assigned escort?
Or something else?
Akane's merchant mind evaluated rapidly.
The mask hid her face, but posture revealed much.
The girl was beautiful.
Graceful.
Even beneath simplicity, she radiated allure.
Akane smiled.
"May I stay with you for a while, Sir Rin?"
There was challenge beneath the sweetness.
Rin raised a brow slightly.
"Would your faction not mind?"
"My brother," she replied smoothly, "would likely be relieved to have me elsewhere."
Technically true.
Shinegori heirs were known to be… competitive within bloodlines.
Rin nodded. "You are welcome."
Behind the fan, Akane's smile deepened.
She stood at Rin's opposite side now.
A visual triangle.
Harumi stiffened.
This is getting complicated.
Whispers began forming in nearby circles.
"The Sumeragi heir and Shinegori daughter…"
"Are they forming an alliance?"
"Or is this something more personal?"
Political translations were far louder than spoken words.
Rin remained composed.
Akane, meanwhile, allowed subtle hints to linger.
She spoke of trade.
Of future innovations.
Of how cooperation across factions strengthened the Empire.
All reasonable topics.
All strategically loud.
Rin knew from the novel side stories that Akane's childhood had been harsh. The Shinegori family tempered heirs like forged steel — sometimes breaking them in the process.
Yet she survived.
Thrived.
Became the Merchant Queen.
And now stood here smiling like a fox among chickens.
Before their conversation could deepen—
Another hush.
This one heavier.
More reverent.
Heads turned toward the grand staircase.
Two figures descended slowly.
The eldest princess of the Empire.
Hoshimi Aya.
Beside her—
Hoshimi Izumi.
Aya wore crimson and gold, her posture immaculate. Each step was measured. Each breath controlled.
Yet from a distance—
If one looked closely—
There was anticipation in her gaze.
Izumi followed half a step behind, expression calmer, slightly amused.
Conversations quieted fully now.
Imperial presence commanded space naturally.
Rin felt multiple gazes redirect.
His spacial recognition tingled faintly as attention patterns shifted.
Akane lowered her fan slightly, observing.
Harumi swallowed.
Major characters… all assembling.
Aya's eyes scanned the hall gracefully.
And for the briefest second—
They paused.
On him.
Rin's posture did not change.
His expression remained polite.
But internally—
Ah.
So it begins.
The Golden Palace shimmered.
Nobles watched.
Alliances hovered in the air like threads waiting to knot.
And as the imperial princesses approached the Sumeragi faction's side of the ballroom—
The atmosphere tightened.