This ceremony would take place in the royal family hall, attended only by the emperor, the empress, and a select group of trusted individuals. Any information about the young prince's talents would remain strictly confidential.
After feeding him, Aurora and Dante bathed together, assisted by the maids. Dante's mind wandered as he observed his mother. At least a twelve out of ten. Even shaves. Or maybe elves just don't grow hair there? He filed the thought away for later consideration.
Once clean, he was dressed in royal attire—a regal blue and white robe adorned with silver and gold embroidery. Underneath, he wore a crisp white shirt and matching white pants, while his shoes were polished black. His white , almost silver hair was neatly combed, framing his small face perfectly. Aurora, ever elegant, wore her usual blue robe, accented with fine jewellery that rested gracefully upon her collarbone.
Carrying her son, Aurora, accompanied by her maids, made her way to the royal hall. As they approached, two guards at the entrance bowed deeply, their eyes briefly flickering toward the little prince in his mother's arms. Their gazes lingered a moment too long for Dante's liking.
The grand doors opened, revealing the vast royal hall. At the far end sat the emperor and empress upon their thrones. Dante immediately recognized his father and turned his gaze to the woman beside him. The empress… she's stunning. But wait—why was Mother introduced as the 'Grand Concubine'?! His mind raced with indignation. Father, you idiot! You have such a fine woman, and she's only a concubine? Are you mad?!
Aurora, holding her child close, walked gracefully toward the two thrones and stopped before them. With a deep bow, she began the formal greeting. Her tone was dutiful but laced with subtle indifference.
"Long live the Emperor. May your days never be counted, your years of reign never-ending. May the God of Winds never call your soul away from this land. The Emperor is greater than kings; the Emperor is the conqueror of lands. May the Emperor remain youthful and strong in our land, now and forever. Long live the Emperor!" The gathered individuals in the hall echoed, "LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR!"
When she turned to address the empress, however, her tone shifted. Unlike the formal detachment in her greeting to the emperor, her voice now carried warmth and admiration.
"My Empress, the most noble of elves, the very stars dim in your presence. May the
Empress live forever, may the Empress rule forever. May the God of the Wind look upon the Empress with favor and guidance. May the Empress lead us to glory, may she remain enthroned now and forever. LONG LIVE THE EMPRESS!"
"MAY THE EMPRESS LIVE FOREVER!"
Dante, awed by the ritual, tried to participate. He took a deep breath and proudly babbled, "HBUBC WHIWEH IHEN IWHIH!"
A moment of silence fell upon the hall before laughter and adoration broke out. Though his words were gibberish, he had mimicked the tone perfectly. The empress chuckled behind her hand, while the emperor felt both pride and sorrow.
Why, Dante? Are you mad at me too? Why didn't you say 'long live the Emperor'?
Meanwhile, Ryan, the emperor's ever-loyal advisor, sighed internally.
This idiot emperor and his mood swings… First, he was elated that the crown prince and first princess would be returning in three months and staying for a year. Then, when reminded that they would take the second prince with them upon leaving, he fell into another sulk. Now this? I need a drink.
Taking a deep breath, Ryan stood up and prepared to speak.
"Men and women of the Sandrian Royal Family, today is a joyous occasion, a time to celebrate. However, due to unfortunate circumstances, we cannot disclose to the public the existence of the Third Prince."
As he spoke, Aurora held her child close to her chest, pain etching itself onto her heart. She knew her son was intelligent, perhaps even capable of understanding what was being said, even if he couldn't fully grasp its meaning. And when he grew older, she would have to explain why he must live not as a prince but as a subordinate to his own kingdom. Many in the room were reminded of the tragedy that had led to this moment and why things had to be this way.
"The prince has awakened from a long slumber, but we cannot reveal to the public that a prince, once thought dead, has returned. As you all know, our kingdom is prosperous, built on legends, traditions, and deeply rooted beliefs. If news were to spread that the Emperor's child was stillborn and yet now lives, it would raise far too many questions— questions we cannot answer."
He paused, his expression grim before continuing.
"In our empire, it is believed that once a child is born dead, their ashes must be scattered to the wind within three days. If, by some miracle, the child awakens afterward, the belief is that while the body may be the same, the soul within is not." A tense silence filled the hall.
"Of course, such beliefs are not rooted in reality," Ryan clarified, "but the fact remains—Prince Dante was in a comatose state for two years. The royal mages and physicians have examined him, and he appears completely healthy, but even we cannot explain the absurdity of this situation. If the noble factions learned of this, they could use it to undermine the Emperor's authority. Elves, as a race, pride themselves on their affinity with life and nature. A stillborn royal child would be seen as a bad omen—a curse, a punishment, or a harbinger of catastrophe. While we know this is superstition, the people may not see it that way."
Dante, who had been listening in silence, suddenly let out a laugh of pure joy, his babyish giggle breaking the somber atmosphere. Many in the room felt their hearts ache at the sight of the innocent child, blissfully unaware of the burdens placed upon him.
Inwardly, however, Dante was ecstatic.
FUCK YES!! he thought. This is a ridiculous reason to keep me hidden, but it works perfectly for me! If they think I'm a threat to the throne, my brothers might try to eliminate me. But if they see me as a non-threat, I can bide my time. This is ideal!
Though... is this really the only reason? It feels too simple.
Just as he pondered this, a familiar voice echoed in his mind.
[Master.]
"Hmm? What is it, System?"
[While I lack sufficient data for a complete analysis, I am hesitant to provide my conclusion.]
"Oh? Don't worry about accuracy. Just tell me what you think. Staying low-key is my goal anyway, so it's not like this changes much."
[Very well, Master. It is possible that there is no deeper conspiracy, and that the circumstances of your stillbirth are simply seen as taboo.]
"Taboo? Explain."
[Based on data from your past life's knowledge, from the novels, it is possible that a stillborn child is considered an impure and terrible stain on the royal lineage. If elves truly have an affinity for life and nature, a stillborn royal heir could be perceived as a curse upon the empire itself.]
"You mean it would challenge the fundamental belief that elves are naturally attuned to life?"
[Precisely, Master. If even the Emperor's bloodline can produce a dead child, it contradicts the very essence of elven pride.]
"I see. But this theory is based on my past-life knowledge. Are you sure it should be trusted?"
[Data derived from your past life's literature is statistically significant. However, if
Master remains uncertain, we can conduct proper reasearch in the future to determine the accuracy of such parallels. Additionally, consider this—Ryan, the man speaking, is likely a high-ranking noble or king within the empire. He has spent decades navigating political landscapes. If the situation were something they could simply cover up, they would have done so. The fact that even the Emperor cannot override this belief suggests it is deeply ingrained in the empire's cultural identity.] Dante sighed, nodding to himself.
So this appraisal ceremony isn't just about my abilities—the people here are some of the most influential figures in the empire. If it were just about a simple status check, these high-ranking nobles wouldn't need to be here. The fact that even my status as a prince is being denied means this belief is so deeply rooted that not even the Emperor can challenge it. If he tried, the people might turn on him.
A sinister grin spread across Dante's face.
No matter. I don't care about these people. Except for Mother, they can all rot. I have my own plans. Until I have proper grasp of my own strength and the world as a whole I can't afford to stand out too much.