The music shifted.
Not the gentle waltz that had carried the earlier dances, but something ceremonial—measured, dignified, almost reverent.
The murmurs in the Golden Palace ballroom gradually softened as attention turned toward the elevated imperial platform.
Crown Prince Hoshimi Kazuo stepped forward once more, flanked by his sisters—Princess Hoshimi Aya on his right and Princess Hoshimi Izumi on his left.
They stood beneath cascading chandeliers that refracted golden light like falling stars.
Kazuo's posture was immaculate.
His uniform—white and gold with subtle imperial embroidery—rested perfectly upon him.
And yet—
His eyes.
Empty.
Lifeless.
A prince carved from expectation rather than desire.
In contrast, Aya stood radiant—perfect posture, flawless expression. Izumi beside her looked bright and warm, her smile genuine.
Rin and Harumi exchanged a glance.
It's time.
The prelude was over.
The true gears of the novel had begun to turn.
Princess Aya stepped forward first, her voice carrying effortlessly across the hall.
"Tonight marks the sixteenth year of our beloved brother's life."
She paused, offering Kazuo a gentle, sisterly smile.
"In the traditions of the Hoshimi Empire, the sixteenth year signifies adulthood. Responsibility. The first true step toward bearing the weight of the crown."
Izumi continued seamlessly, her tone lighter yet clear.
"As the sole male heir of the Imperial Hoshimi Family, His Highness carries not only our hopes—but the hopes of the Empire itself."
The noble children below listened with rapt attention.
Some with admiration.
Some with calculation.
Some with quiet envy.
"And as tradition dictates," Aya continued, "the Crown Prince shall be accompanied by four Holy Consorts."
A ripple passed through the hall.
Whispers rose like wind through silk.
"Four women," Izumi said softly, "who will stand beside him and compete—honorably—for the future position of Empress."
Aya inclined her head.
"Over the past year, the Imperial Family has conducted preliminary visits and evaluations among the noble houses of the Empire."
She paused deliberately.
"The chosen names were known only to the Imperial Family… and to the young women selected."
A hush fell.
Even those who pretended indifference could not hide their anticipation.
Rin folded his hands calmly before him.
Harumi's fingers lightly gripped his sleeve.
They both already knew.
But knowing and witnessing were different things.
Izumi smiled gently.
"Tonight, we reveal them."
A drumbeat echoed softly.
"Long ago," Aya began, "in the founding era of the Hoshimi Empire, our first Emperor was accompanied by four extraordinary women."
The lighting dimmed slightly, focusing upon the platform.
"Each embodied a virtue that shaped the Empire's foundation."
"The first," Izumi continued, "was granted the title of Azure."
"A symbol of calmness."
Aya's voice softened.
"In an age of warring states… when chaos and bloodshed consumed the land… she was the one who remained composed."
"She tempered rage with clarity," Izumi added.
"She guided decisions when swords were drawn and tempers burned."
"She was known as the Azure Consort."
Aya raised her hand gracefully.
"And the young woman chosen to bear the title of Azure Consort for this generation is—"
A pause.
"Chinen Suzuki."
A collective intake of breath.
Then applause erupted.
Rin clapped steadily, eyes drifting instinctively toward the Chinen faction.
Daisuke Taiko stood rigid.
Color drained from his face.
His earlier confidence shattered silently.
Suzuki stepped forward.
Her movements were unhurried.
A long azure overcoat flowed behind her, layered elegantly over her gown. The shade complemented her clear, ocean-blue eyes.
Her expression remained aloof.
Calm.
Unmoved.
And yet—
Under the chandelier's light, she looked ethereal.
She ascended the steps and bowed first to the Crown Prince.
"Your Highness."
Her voice was soft, controlled.
Kazuo nodded slightly.
"Lady Suzuki."
She then inclined her head toward the princesses.
Aya smiled with regal approval.
Izumi beamed warmly.
Suzuki turned, facing the crowd only briefly before settling into her designated place to Kazuo's right.
The Azure Consort.
Daisuke's jaw clenched.
Rin cast him a brief glance—
Not mocking.
Almost pitying.
Harumi whispered, "That's one."
Rin nodded subtly.
Aya continued.
"The second title is Vermilion."
A deeper tone entered her voice.
"In the founding era, the Vermilion Consort symbolized strength."
Izumi's expression grew earnest.
"Not only strength in battle… but strength in rebuilding."
"When the land was ravaged," Aya added, "she did not falter."
"She protected the people when the Emperor could not be everywhere at once."
"She carried burdens without complaint."
"She stood unwavering."
Aya's hand lowered slightly.
"And the young woman chosen to bear the title of Vermilion Consort is—"
"Takigawa Rei."
This time, the applause came louder.
The Takigawa faction erupted with proud murmurs.
Rin watched.
Takigawa Rei stepped forward.
Red.
Everything about her carried a quiet fire.
Crimson eyes.
Deep red hair cascading elegantly over her shoulders.
A long vermilion coat layered beneath and over her dress, tailored with precision.
She looked like the embodiment of resilience.
Strong.
Yet kind.
As she walked, there was no arrogance—only steadiness.
She bowed before Kazuo.
"Your Highness."
Kazuo inclined his head.
"Lady Rei."
Her smile was gentle when she greeted the princesses.
Aya's approval was visible.
Izumi looked genuinely delighted.
Rei moved to stand beside Suzuki.
Azure and Vermilion.
Calm and Strength.
Two pillars placed into motion.
Rin exhaled quietly.
"As expected," he murmured.
Harumi nodded.
"Perfectly aligned with the novel."
Aya continued.
"The third title is Black."
The room seemed to grow still.
"In the founding era," Aya said, "the Black Consort embodied wisdom."
Izumi's voice lowered.
"She was the one who turned the tide of battle not with blades… but with strategy."
"When defeat seemed certain," Aya continued, "it was her counsel that reversed fate."
"She saw through deception."
"She understood people."
"She wielded information as others wielded swords."
"And so," Izumi concluded gently, "the title of Black Consort is bestowed upon—"
"Sarada Himeko."
Applause once more.
Measured.
Respectful.
The Sarada faction did not cheer loudly.
They observed.
Sarada Himeko emerged from the shadows near her faction.
Her long black coat flowed like ink spilling across marble.
Her dark hair framed her composed face.
Her eyes held depth—calculating yet not unkind.
She moved gracefully to the platform.
She bowed.
"Your Highness."
Kazuo's eyes flickered slightly—barely noticeable.
"Lady Himeko."
She joined the others.
Black beside Vermilion.
Wisdom beside Strength.
Rin thought briefly—
Of course.
The Sarada faction thrives on intelligence networks.
Information is power.
Power is survival.
Three consorts now stood beside the Crown Prince.
The final announcement approached.
Aya's voice softened.
"The final title… is White."
Even the air seemed to pause.
"In the founding era," Aya said, "the White Consort was… rare."
Izumi's expression shifted.
"She was unlike the others."
Aya continued slowly.
"She was said to possess the heart capable of making cruel decisions… yet remaining true to herself."
"She was neither bound by expectation… nor restrained by tradition."
"She was divine in her rarity."
Izumi smiled faintly.
"If one were to define White… it would be someone capable of walking through darkness without becoming consumed."
Aya raised her gaze.
"And so… the title of White Consort is bestowed upon—"
"Shinegori Akane."
The applause that followed was mixed with surprise.
The Shinegori faction reacted with restrained satisfaction.
Akane stepped forward.
White.
From head to toe.
Her long white coat flowed elegantly over her gown.
Her hair—silver-white—shone beneath the chandeliers.
And her amethyst eyes—
Sharp.
Brilliant.
Unapologetically aware.
She walked like the moment belonged to her.
Not arrogantly.
But knowingly.
She bowed to Kazuo.
"Your Highness."
Kazuo regarded her briefly.
"Lady Akane."
She turned slightly toward the princesses.
Aya's smile was composed.
Izumi's eyes twinkled.
Akane then took her place beside the others.
Azure.
Vermilion.
Black.
White.
Four pillars.
Four virtues reborn.
The hall stood in applause.
Rin nodded to himself.
As written.
Exactly as written.
He glanced at Harumi.
Harumi's eyes sparkled behind her mask.
"It's really happening," she whispered.
"No anomalies," Rin replied quietly.
The prince stood between them.
Still lifeless.
Still hollow.
But now surrounded by the four destined consorts of the novel's prelude.
Harumi exhaled softly.
"This is the beginning."
Rin's Spatial Recognition swept once more across the ballroom.
Reactions.
Shock.
Ambition.
Jealousy.
Relief.
Daisuke looked broken.
The factions recalculated.
The future shifted.
Yet—
No disruption.
No unexpected variable.
Harumi leaned closer.
"We survived the announcement."
Rin allowed himself a faint smile.
"For now."
Above them, the chandeliers glowed brighter.
The music began anew.
And the story moved forward exactly as it was meant to.
The music resumed as though the revelation of the Four Holy Consorts had merely been an interlude in the evening's grand symphony.
Silk brushed against silk. Crystal chandeliers shimmered like captive constellations. The golden floors of the imperial ballroom reflected every step, every subtle glance, every carefully measured smile.
Below the platform, the newly revealed consorts had barely taken three steps before they were surrounded.
Nobles swarmed them.
Not aggressively—never aggressively. That would be improper.
But subtly. Strategically. Like wolves in velvet coats.
"Lady Suzuki, allow me to congratulate you once more."
"Lady Rei, the Vermilion suits you splendidly."
"Lady Himeko, your wisdom will surely guide the Empire."
"Lady Akane, what an honor—"
Every greeting was layered. Every compliment had an investment hidden beneath it.
Rin observed the scene from a comfortable distance, a glass of untouched champagne resting between his fingers.
"Hyenas," he muttered softly.
Harumi, standing slightly behind him in her elegant mask, tilted her head. "Hyenas?"
"Polite hyenas," Rin corrected.
It was only natural. The title of Holy Consort meant influence. Future proximity to the throne. The possibility—however distant—of becoming Empress.
Power radiated from those four women now like heat from a forge.
Still, Rin remained unmoved.
The Sumeragi family already governed nearly half of the Empire's administrative territories. Their power was entrenched, institutional, and far too vast to be shaken by social tides.
If anything, tonight was simply another variable in an already complex equation.
Harumi finally exhaled softly.
"…Nothing happened," she whispered.
Rin smirked faintly. "You sound disappointed."
"I am relieved."
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Her shoulders had visibly relaxed. The prelude of the novel had unfolded exactly as written.
No assassinations.
No public humiliation.
No mysterious fifth consort appearing from nowhere.
Good.
Rin turned his attention to the cluster of young nobles belonging to his faction. They had gathered around him the moment the announcements ended, eager as ever.
"Lord Rin," one of them began eagerly, "what are your thoughts on the chosen consorts?"
Ah.
Political discussion time.
Rin straightened slightly, adopting the faintly bored yet composed demeanor expected of the Sumeragi heir.
"Each selection reflects balance," he said calmly. "Suzuki represents stability. Rei represents resilience. Himeko represents intellect. And Akane… represents unpredictability."
A young viscount blinked. "Unpredictability, my lord?"
Rin gave a faint smile. "White, after all, contains every color."
The nobles exchanged impressed looks.
Internally, Rin was patting himself on the back.
Nice line. Very poetic. Ten out of ten.
Another noble leaned in. "Do you believe any one of them has an advantage?"
"Advantage?" Rin hummed thoughtfully. "The Crown Prince does not strike me as someone easily swayed by symbolism."
They glanced toward the Crown Prince across the hall.
He stood distant, composed, eyes hollow as ever.
A decorative statue would have shown more emotion.
"Still," Rin continued, lowering his voice slightly, "the Empire thrives on perception. The one who controls perception controls half the battlefield."
More nodding. More admiration.
Harumi watched silently, thinking:
He's enjoying this way too much.
Just as the conversation was gaining momentum, the murmurs around them gradually died.
Like wind being cut by a mountain.
Rin felt it before he saw it.
That presence.
That smug gravitational field.
He turned.
Shinegori Akane approached.
Her white coat flowed behind her like drifting snow. The insignia of the White Consort gleamed upon her shoulder, delicate yet commanding.
Her amethyst eyes sparkled with unmistakable amusement.
Behind her, several members of the Shinegori faction stood frozen—confused, shocked, calculating.
Rin felt the collective stares drilling into him.
Akane stopped directly before him.
She offered a flawless curtsy.
"Sir Rin."
Her voice was honey wrapped around a blade.
"I thank you for keeping my little secret."
The young nobles around Rin stiffened.
Secret?
Rin maintained his composure. "It was entrusted to me."
Akane's smile widened ever so slightly.
"Let us continue to get along well in our business partnership."
Silence.
The implications detonated.
One of the nobles nearly choked.
She told him?
He was the one she chose?
That meant—
Rin could practically hear the mental gears grinding in every Shinegori head in the vicinity.
Within their faction, not one of them had been informed.
Yet the White Consort had chosen the heir of the Sumeragi family as the one person to share the news with.
Akane had just declared independence.
Rin thought:
You absolutely planned this timing.
Akane thought:
Yes. Yes, I did.
Their eyes met.
A silent battle of smugness commenced.
Rin sighed softly. "Lady Akane, our arrangement remains unchanged."
"Of course," she replied sweetly. "Purely business."
Purely business.
The phrase echoed.
Rin bowed his head politely.
Technically, her status now outranked his.
Potential future bride of the Crown Prince versus Duke's heir.
Hierarchy was hierarchy.
Akane's eyes sparkled with delight at the sight.
A Sumeragi bowing to her.
Oh, she would treasure this memory.
"No need to be so formal," she said lightly.
But she did not stop him.
Behind her fan, her smile sharpened.
Power was delicious.
Rin, meanwhile, thought:
As long as I don't get stabbed like in the novel, she can enjoy her moment.
Just then—
"Sir Rin."
A voice sweet and controlled drifted in from behind Akane.
Rin stiffened.
Ah.
Here comes emotional turbulence.
Princess Hoshimi Aya stood there, radiant beneath the chandelier light.
Her crimson silk dress shimmered like a blooming rose under golden sunlight. Gold threads traced delicate patterns along her sleeves.
She was smiling.
The kind of smile that said everything was fine.
The kind of smile that absolutely meant everything was not fine.
"I didn't know," she continued softly, "that you were already connected to one of the consorts."
Pressure.
Invisible but tangible.
Akane's fan shifted slightly.
Rin bowed deeply. "Princess Aya."
She panicked immediately. "Ah—no need to be so formal!"
Internally:
Why is he bowing so far?!
Rin straightened and, unfortunately, stared a second too long.
She was stunning.
He realized he was staring.
Abort. Recover.
"Your Highness looks beautiful tonight," he said smoothly.
Aya froze.
Her brain short-circuited.
He complimented me.
Naturally.
Without hesitation.
Her face warmed. "You… are quite skilled with words."
Rin internally:
That was pure survival instinct.
Aya's gaze shifted slowly toward Harumi.
The masked girl.
Still standing there.
Suspiciously close.
"Is she," Aya asked carefully, "your fiancée?"
Her tone was calm.
Her heart was not.
Inside her mind:
Who is she? Why is she next to him? Since when? Did I miss a chapter? Is this a hidden route?!
Rin tilted his head. "She is accompanying me for security purposes."
Aya blinked.
"To prevent certain young ladies from approaching too freely," Rin added.
Aya's soul ascended briefly.
So she's not romantic competition.
Praise the heavens.
Harumi behind the mask thought:
I have become a deterrent.
Wonderful.
Aya coughed lightly, regaining composure.
"About your earlier dance…" she began.
"It was merely to demonstrate etiquette," Rin replied calmly. "Nothing more."
Aya internally screamed into a pillow.
Nothing more?!
Then… then that means…!!
Akane observed everything.
Oh my.
The princess is transparent.
How adorable.
She covered her smile with her fan.
"I shall leave you two," Akane said smoothly. "Connections await."
She leaned slightly toward Rin. "We will discuss profits next time."
Aya internally:
THANK YOU.
Harumi tugged Rin's sleeve quietly. "I… will step away as well."
And just like that, she vanished into the crowd.
Aya watched her go.
The battlefield had cleared.
Just the two of them.
The music swelled again.
Rin sensed danger.
Aya stepped closer.
"Your dance earlier was exceptional," she said softly. "May I have one as well?"
Refusal?
To a princess?
In public?
Death sentence.
Rin extended his hand.
"It would be my honor."
Her hand slipped into his.
Warm.
Soft.
The orchestra shifted into a slower waltz.
They stepped onto the floor.
Aya's heart pounded so loudly she was certain he could hear it.
Rin's mind, meanwhile:
Maintain distance. Do not trigger romantic flags. Remember the novel. She becomes emotionally dependent on Miharu first. Stay neutral.
"So," Aya began lightly, "do you remember our first meeting?"
Rin almost stumbled.
Of course he remembered.
He had intentionally avoided deepening that interaction.
"You wished to become friends," he replied carefully.
"And you refused," she said, smiling.
He nodded.
"Why?"
Direct hit.
Rin chose diplomacy. "Because friendship with royalty is rarely simple."
Aya studied him.
He's careful.
Too careful.
Inside her mind:
He doesn't want friendship?
Fine.
Then I'll aim higher.
She smiled faintly.
"Then perhaps we shall begin with something else."
Rin blinked.
Danger level rising.
They turned gracefully across the floor.
Nobles watched.
Whispers bloomed.
The White Consort had declared business ties.
Now the Princess danced with him.
Rin Sumeragi was becoming tonight's unexpected axis.
Aya stepped closer during the spin.
Her perfume brushed his senses.
"Tell me honestly," she said softly, "do I make you uncomfortable?"
Rin hesitated.
Truth? Yes.
Diplomatic answer? No.
"You are… formidable," he said instead.
Aya's eyes widened slightly.
Formidable?
Not beautiful?
Not charming?
Formidable?
She nearly laughed.
So that's how he sees me.
Her grip tightened slightly.
"Then I shall work harder," she whispered.
Rin internally:
Work harder at what?!
The dance continued.
And neither of them had any intention of letting it end just yet.
The waltz had just reached its most delicate turn.
Aya's hand rested lightly in Rin's, her steps finally syncing with his rhythm, her earlier fluster replaced by focused determination—
—and then the chandeliers flickered.
Once.
Twice.
The third flicker was followed by the sharp crack of shattering glass.
Windows exploded inward.
The sound was violent. Not a delicate break—but a war cry.
Small metallic spheres clattered across the polished ballroom floor.
Clink.
Clink.
Clink.
Several rolled to a stop between dancing nobles.
For one suspended second, everyone simply stared.
Then—
Hissssss—
Thick smoke erupted from the spheres, dark and heavy, swallowing the golden ballroom in seconds.
Screams tore through the music.
The orchestra faltered into discord.
"W-What is happening?!"
"I can't see—!"
"Guards!"
The smoke burned the throat. It was dense, unnatural, and laced with mana interference.
Rin reacted on instinct.
A startled pair of young nobles stumbled directly toward Aya, nearly colliding with her.
Rin stepped in.
One arm wrapped around Aya's waist.
He spun, pulling her sharply behind his back.
The movement was fluid—controlled—but urgent.
Aya gasped as the world blurred for a second before she found herself pressed against Rin's back, shielded.
His hand tightened protectively around her.
For a heartbeat, her brain shut down.
He… hugged me.
Now?!
Wrong timing, Aya. Very wrong timing.
Through the smoke, silhouettes crashed through the broken windows.
Figures in dark uniforms. Faces concealed by ornate masks etched with faint glowing lines.
They landed lightly, practiced.
A voice rang out, distorted by enchantment.
"We are here for the high-value heirs. Cooperate, and you may remain unharmed."
Another masked figure lunged at a nearby noble.
Immediately, members of the Takigawa and Sarada factions reacted.
"Fire Lance—!"
Nothing happened.
The incantation fizzled into silence.
"What?!"
"I can't cast!"
Panic rippled harder than the smoke.
Rin narrowed his eyes.
He attempted a simple external projection—just a test pulse of space manipulation—
Nothing.
His mana circulated, but it refused to manifest outward.
Suppression.
Aya clutched his sleeve. "Sir Rin—"
A masked man burst through the smoke directly in front of them, blade raised.
Rin didn't hesitate.
He sidestepped with Aya still secured against him, pivoting sharply. The blade sliced past where her shoulder had been a second earlier.
Too straightforward.
The attacker's form was aggressive but not refined.
Rin gestured instinctively.
"Limitless Space—Second Spell: Oppose."
He mimed the familiar gun-hand motion, swiping outward.
Normally, an orb of compressed repulsion would form instantly.
This time—
Nothing.
His hand sliced through empty smoke.
Ah.
So external projection is sealed.
The masked man lunged again.
Aya was still in his arm.
I cannot drop her. If she's injured, this becomes political catastrophe.
Rin inhaled sharply and shifted gears.
If he couldn't project space externally—
He would refine it internally.
He focused mana tightly to the surface of his skin.
Isolation.
A microscopic layer—no thicker than an atom's width—formed over his hands.
The attacker's blade struck.
Clang.
The edge stopped dead against Rin's palm.
The masked man's eyes widened behind the mask.
Internal enhancement works.
Rin shoved forward with amplified force.
The man staggered.
Rin pivoted again, tightening his hold on Aya, and drove a kick into the attacker's abdomen—Isolation layered along his foot.
The impact thundered.
The masked man flew backward through smoke like a rag doll.
Rin landed cleanly, Aya still held securely against him.
"…Geh. Too strong," Rin muttered under his breath. "I overcompensated."
Aya was staring at him.
Not blinking.
Her brain was trying to process three things simultaneously:
He just blocked a blade with his bare hand.
He spun me like a professional dancer in the middle of an attack.
He looks unfairly cool right now.
Focus, Aya!
Around them, chaos escalated. Metal clashed. Furniture shattered. Nobles stumbled blindly.
The smoke grew thicker.
Aya swallowed and forced herself into princess mode.
"Sir Rin—we must clear the smoke first!"
Rin nodded. "It carries suppression properties. They're immune—likely the masks."
He tested his mana again.
Internal circulation remained intact.
External manifestation failed only once the mana left his body.
Which meant—
The smoke interferes with casting vectors.
Fine.
Then I remove the vector.
He exhaled and cast Isolation on himself—this time expanding its parameters.
Isolation did not merely block—it defined boundaries.
He refined the spell to isolate the air entering his lungs.
Filter.
Separate foreign mana signatures.
The suppression particles were identified and rejected.
His breathing cleared.
He expanded the isolated field outward—just enough to create a bubble of purified air around himself and Aya.
There.
Mana stabilized.
External projection returned.
Rin stepped forward, raising both hands.
"Limitless Space—First Spell: Attraction."
Between his palms, an invisible gravitational sphere formed.
The smoke reacted.
It began to spiral.
Aya's eyes widened as the haze around them bent unnaturally, spiraling inward toward Rin's hands.
It looked as though he were compressing the night itself.
The smoke gathered faster and faster, sucked from the ballroom like a draining tide.
Across the hall, masked figures shouted.
"He's clearing it—retreat!"
"We have the target!"
Target?
Rin's eyes sharpened.
The smoke condensed into a dense orb between his hands, swirling violently.
Within seconds, the ballroom cleared.
Coughing nobles collapsed to their knees, blinking in sudden clarity.
The masked attackers were already vaulting back through shattered windows.
Gone.
Rin held the writhing sphere of dark smoke for a moment.
He sighed.
Then tore open a small spatial rift—his Infinity Room—and tossed the compressed orb inside.
The rift snapped shut.
Silence followed.
Aya stared at him.
Then—
She clapped.
Actually clapped.
"Sir Rin! That was incredible!"
Her voice carried genuine admiration.
She realized she was still held against him.
She froze.
He froze.
They separated almost simultaneously.
Professional distance re-established.
Rin scanned the room.
Damage assessment.
Takigawa—bruised, but standing.
Sarada—alert, already analyzing.
Shinegori—furious but intact.
Then—
A scream from the Chinen faction.
"Lady Suzuki is missing!"
Silence fell like a guillotine.
"…What?" someone whispered.
Members of the Chinen faction rushed toward the cleared space where Azure had stood moments ago.
"She was here—!"
"She couldn't cast—!"
"The smoke—!"
Unlike the other factions, whose members relied on diverse magical disciplines, the Chinen specialized heavily in precision casting and long-range suppression.
Smoke nullified them.
They had been crippled.
And in that blind window—
Azure Consort Chinen Suzuki had been taken.
The Takigawa faction bristled, anger simmering.
The Sarada faction whispered urgently, calculating implications.
The Shinegori faction's eyes flicked subtly toward Rin—then away.
But the Chinen faction—
They were in open panic.
Rin's gaze hardened.
So the target was never the princess.
It was Azure.
Aya noticed the change in his expression.
The earlier softness vanished.
He had gone cold.
Serious.
Strategic.
She stepped closer. "Sir Rin… what is it?"
Rin spoke quietly. "This was deliberate. Smoke suppression to neutralize Chinen magic. Swift extraction. Minimal collateral."
Aya's posture straightened.
Princess mode fully activated.
"…Then this is an attack on the Empire."
"Yes."
He closed his eyes briefly.
Harumi.
She had left earlier.
If she was caught in the chaos—
Rin extended his Spatial Manifestation.
The ballroom mapped itself in his perception.
He pushed the range outward.
Corridors.
Gardens.
Outer walls.
There.
A familiar mana signature.
Outside the ballroom perimeter.
Stable.
Harumi.
Safe.
Good.
Relief flickered across his eyes.
Aya caught it.
"You sensed something," she said quietly.
Rin nodded once. "I must move."
She knew what that meant.
He was about to leave.
Her heart protested immediately.
Now? After that cool display?
But she looked around.
Imperial guards were flooding in.
Princess Izumi was rushing toward them, visibly shaken.
Crown Prince Kazuo stood surrounded by elite guards, expression unchanged—but eyes sharp now.
Aya inhaled.
"I suppose," she said lightly, though disappointment leaked through, "you intend to chase after them."
Rin met her gaze.
"It may be dangerous."
She pouted—just slightly.
Then composed herself.
"Then escort me to my brother and sister first."
He nodded.
"Of course."
They walked swiftly across the damaged ballroom.
Nobles parted instinctively.
Whispers followed.
That was the Sumeragi heir.
He cleared the smoke.
He fought bare-handed.
He protected the princess.
Izumi nearly tackled Aya in relief.
"Aya! Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," Aya said, glancing briefly at Rin.
Izumi followed the look.
Understanding dawned.
"Thank you, Lord Sumeragi," she said sincerely.
Crown Prince Kazuo's gaze settled on Rin for a brief moment.
Evaluating.
Measuring.
Then he gave a slight nod.
Acknowledgment.
Rin bowed once more.
"Your Highnesses."
Aya watched him turn.
Just like that.
Leaving again.
Her fingers curled slightly.
Next time… she thought. I will not let the moment end so quickly.
Rin stepped away from the Imperial heirs, mind already racing.
Azure kidnapped.
Smoke suppression.
Masks granting immunity.
Internal casting unaffected.
This wasn't random chaos.
This was engineered.
And if Azure was taken—
Then the game had escalated far earlier than the novel intended.
Rin's eyes darkened slightly.
So much for "nothing major happening tonight."
He exhaled once.
Then moved.
The Golden Palace corridors were dim.
Emergency lanterns flickered to life one by one, casting long, trembling shadows across polished marble floors. The earlier elegance of the evening had dissolved into tense whispers and hurried footsteps of guards mobilizing.
Outside the main ballroom, the air felt colder.
Quieter.
Too quiet.
Rin moved swiftly but without obvious haste. His footsteps were measured, controlled. Panic was contagious—he would not add to it.
He extended his Spatial Manifestation again.
There.
A familiar mana signature.
Stationary.
Tucked behind a decorative structure near the outer gardens.
Rin followed it.
Behind a massive potted golden camellia tree—its leaves broad enough to hide two people—sat a trembling figure in an expensive gown that absolutely did not match the posture of someone dignified.
Harumi.
She was crouched down, hugging her knees, her mask slightly crooked. The grand golden walls behind her looked far less comforting in the dark.
She was muttering something to herself.
"…This wasn't in the novel… this wasn't in the novel…"
Rin stepped quietly beside the tree.
A faint shift of shadow fell over her.
Harumi froze.
Very slowly, she looked up.
It was too dark to see his face clearly.
Her brain immediately chose the worst possible scenario.
She folded forward dramatically.
"Waaaaaaah! Please have mercy! I am merely a maid in an unnecessarily expensive dress! I have no political value! Please don't kill me!"
Rin stared down at her.
For three seconds.
Four.
"…Harumi."
She stiffened.
That voice.
She slowly tilted her head upward.
"…Young master?"
"Harumi," Rin repeated dryly, "how long are you going to act like that?"
Her eyes widened.
"Young master?!"
She shot up and immediately flung herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck with zero hesitation.
"Waaaaah! Young master! I was scared! The palace went dark and then the noise and the screaming and I thought—what if something happened to you—and—and—!"
She buried her face against his shoulder.
Rin sighed but gently steadied her.
"I am unharmed."
"I know you're strong but still! What if someone used anti-space magic or anti-you magic or anti-you specifically magic—!"
"That is very specific," Rin said flatly.
Harumi sniffed. "This wasn't supposed to happen…"
Her tone shifted.
Fear remained—but now it was layered with confusion.
"I read everything," she continued, pulling back slightly. "Every extra chapter. Every prelude. Even the author's notes. There was no attack during the consort announcement."
Her brows furrowed.
"This is an anomaly."
Rin's expression grew serious.
"Yes."
He hesitated only a second before saying it.
"The Azure Consort was kidnapped."
Harumi's eyes widened.
"…What?"
"She was the target."
Harumi stepped back, processing rapidly.
"Only the consorts themselves, the Imperial Family, and the one confidant each consort selected knew their identities before tonight," she said quickly. "That means the kidnappers either infiltrated the inner circle… or they've been observing for a long time."
Rin nodded.
"They used magic-suppressing smoke."
Harumi inhaled sharply.
"Specifically targeting Chinen Suzuki…"
"Correct."
Suzuki was a magical prodigy. Her combat strength relied heavily on refined casting.
Suppress magic, and she becomes far easier to subdue.
"This was premeditated," Rin said quietly. "Not opportunistic chaos."
Harumi clenched her fists.
"If she's kidnapped, does that mean she'll be dethroned as consort?"
Rin exhaled slowly.
"In normal politics? Not immediately. But—"
"But kidnapping implies someone wants her position destabilized," Harumi finished.
"Yes."
Silence settled between them.
The weight of it pressed heavily.
Harumi bit her lip. "If Suzuki gets dethroned… that changes the balance of the Four Consorts. That changes faction alignments. That changes the novel's trajectory."
Rin rubbed his temple lightly.
"I know."
This was exactly the kind of deviation he did not want.
"What should we do, Young Master?!" Harumi asked urgently. "We can't just let this happen! The future plot will derail!"
Rin closed his eyes briefly.
Think.
Chasing blindly into the night without coordinates would be foolish.
The suppression smoke had interfered with his ability to mark spatial signatures.
I should have filtered faster.
He exhaled through his nose.
Unlucky.
"I cannot track them," he admitted calmly. "The smoke disrupted my marking vectors. By the time visibility returned, they were already gone."
Harumi slouched.
"That's… very unlucky."
"Yes."
She stared at the palace walls, unusually quiet.
"To think we let our guard down," she murmured. "We thought tonight would just be the novel's prelude…"
Rin looked toward the dark sky.
"I will inform Father," he said finally. "The Duke can mobilize search divisions faster than we can act alone."
Harumi nodded slowly.
"Yes… that's the most rational move."
Still.
Rin felt it.
A subtle tightening in his chest.
By the time official forces mobilize… will it be too late?
They began walking toward the main carriage entrance.
Guards rushed past them in organized squads.
The night air outside the palace was crisp and sharp, filled with tension.
Their carriage waited near the grand staircase.
The driver bowed upon seeing them.
"My lord."
"Take us to Father immediately," Rin ordered.
"Yes, my lord."
The Duke would still be within the Imperial Palace complex. News would be spreading among the adult nobility even now.
Search operations would begin soon.
As Rin placed a hand on the carriage door—
His Spatial Manifestation twitched.
A signal.
Faint.
But distinct.
One of the young nobles he had subconsciously marked earlier in the ballroom—
Was moving.
Outside.
Alone.
Rin's eyes narrowed slightly.
That is unusual.
After an attack, nobles would remain under guard.
They would not wander.
Especially not alone.
The mana signature was moving toward the northern outer corridor.
Calm.
Not panicked.
Intentional.
Rin stilled.
Harumi noticed immediately.
"…Young master?"
He didn't answer at first.
He was calculating.
Possibility one: coincidence.
Possibility two: messenger.
Possibility three: collaborator.
His jaw tightened slightly.
I cannot ignore that.
He reached into his inner coat and removed a small emblem.
The Sumeragi insignia.
He placed it in Harumi's hand.
She stared at it.
Her breath caught.
"Young master…"
The weight of that insignia was not symbolic.
It carried authority.
Temporary command rights.
Equal to his own.
He did not hand this over lightly.
"Change of plans," Rin said quietly.
Her eyes widened.
"You're not coming?"
"You will inform Father," he said firmly. "Give him this. He will know how to locate me."
Harumi's grip tightened around the insignia.
"You're going after them."
"Yes."
"Alone?"
"For now."
Her lips parted to protest.
But then she saw his expression.
Not reckless.
Not emotional.
Focused.
Strategic.
That stern look silenced her.
"…Understood," she whispered.
Rin softened slightly.
"Stay safe. Follow Father's instructions."
She nodded.
"Please don't do anything too reckless."
He gave a faint, almost amused look.
"I rarely do."
That was debatable.
He stepped back.
Isolation wrapped around him.
Not as defense—
But as concealment.
He manipulated the distortion of space around his presence.
To Harumi, it looked like he blurred—
Then faded.
Standing directly in front of her—
And then not.
She swallowed.
Even after witnessing it countless times, it still unsettled her.
"Stay safe… Young Master," she murmured.
From somewhere above, his voice drifted faintly.
"You too."
A sudden force erupted beneath him.
"Oppose."
Compressed repulsion detonated under his feet, propelling him upward like a silent cannon.
He landed lightly on the palace roof.
The night stretched before him.
Cold.
Wide.
Uncertain.
He crouched low, eyes scanning the distant corridors.
The moving mana signature continued ahead.
Not hurried.
Not fearful.
Guided.
Rin's expression darkened.
If you are involved…
He pushed off again, bounding silently across tiled rooftops, Oppose pulsing rhythmically beneath his steps to launch him forward.
Wind cut across his face.
His thoughts sharpened with each leap.
This is earlier than it should be.
An anomaly.
Either the timeline has shifted—
Or someone else is interfering.
His eyes gleamed faintly in the dark.
Very well.
If the plot wants to deviate—
Then I will adapt.
And with that, Rin vanished into the night above the Golden Palace, chasing the first true fracture in the story's supposed future.