His voice was quiet.
"Can I not go tonight?"
Helius's expression immediately hardened.
"The imperial decree requires your attendance."
Kaelan lowered his head.
"I..."
"Do you want to defy the Emperor?"
Helius's voice left no room for argument.
"Do you think the Royal Family will overlook that?"
Kaelan fell silent.
He understood.
He had no choice.
The banquet would place him directly in front of countless nobles, many of whom had already heard what happened.
He would have to endure their looks.
Their whispers.
Their judgment.
Jasmine watched her son's shoulders sink and felt her heart tighten.
"What good does scolding him do?" she said softly. "Kaelan has suffered enough."
Helius looked at her.
"If he had shown some restraint in the first place, would our family be in this situation?"
His palm struck the wooden table.
"I have spent decades fighting for this family. I have killed countless enemies and earned the respect of the empire. The House of Phoenix once stood with its head held high."
His voice grew heavier.
"And now I can barely walk through the capital without hearing people discuss my sons."
Jasmine's face paled.
She wanted to defend Kaelan, but she knew better than to argue with Helius while his anger was still burning.
Before the argument could continue, another voice interrupted.
"Father, don't be angry."
Icarus stepped forward.
At fourteen years old, the boy already possessed cultivation that made him stand apart from his siblings. He had reached the middle phase of the Earth Stage, a level that marked him as a genuine prodigy among his peers.
His expression was firm despite his young age.
"I'll restore the family's honor at the Royal Hunting Competition."
Helius's anger eased slightly.
Of all his children, Icarus had given him the least reason for concern.
He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Good."
His voice contained genuine pride.
"You are the sensible one."
Icarus grinned.
Then he looked around the hall.
"There is one more thing, Father."
"What?"
"What about Elder Brother Zion? Is he going to the palace with us?"
The moment Zion's name was mentioned, Helius's expression became cold again.
"No."
He did not hesitate.
"We will leave first. Prepare a separate carriage for him. He can enter the palace by himself later."
Icarus nodded.
"Understood. I'll arrange it."
There was no argument.
To Helius, Zion was no longer part of the family in any meaningful sense.
***
When the message reached Zion that the General's household would be leaving without him, he merely smiled.
He was not disappointed.
Nor was he surprised.
Helius had disliked him since he was a baby. Being deliberately excluded from the family's carriage was hardly unusual.
In truth, Zion preferred it this way.
He had no desire to sit beside people he no longer considered family.
That word had lost its meaning long ago.
The General's Manor might still carry his name, but Zion no longer regarded it as his home.
Tonight, he would enter the palace alone.
And he would do so as himself.
Zion stepped out of his residence shortly afterward.
There was no half-mask covering his face.
No disguise.
No attempt to hide the appearance he had kept concealed for so long.
The change was immediate.
The servants who happened to see him crossing the courtyard stopped in their tracks.
One froze while carrying a tray.
Another nearly walked into a pillar.
Whispers began spreading through the estate.
"Who is that?"
"He came from the Eldest Young Master's residence..."
"Could he be a guest?"
"No, wait. That's Elder Young Master Zion!"
"Impossible."
The confusion grew as more servants caught sight of him.
For years, the people of the General's Manor had known Zion as a sickly young man with an unimpressive appearance. Few had ever paid much attention to him.
The person walking across the courtyard now bore little resemblance to the figure they remembered.
His appearance was striking, but there was something more noticeable than his features.
Confidence.
Zion carried himself with a quiet authority that made the servants instinctively move aside.
No one dared approach him.
At the main gate, however, his steps stopped.
A horse carriage chair waited there.
Zion looked at it.
Then he looked around.
There were no bearers.
No attendants.
Not even a servant had been assigned to accompany him.
They had not forgotten.
They had deliberately left him without a way to reach the palace.
A faint, cold smile appeared on Zion's lips.
'Predictable.'
Black's voice immediately sounded inside his mind.
"Master, they really don't want you going to the banquet."
His fur seemed to bristle with irritation.
"Should I find some bearers and make them carry you?"
Zion almost laughed.
Before he could answer, the sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention.
A large, ornate carriage chair was coming down the street.
Its lacquered panels reflected the lantern light, and golden tassels swayed gently from the corners. Even without seeing its occupant, it was obvious that the carriage belonged to someone of considerable status.
Zion watched it approach.
The carriage stopped in front of the General's Manor.
A warm, mellow voice came from behind the curtains.
"Young man, it seems the General's household has not prepared a proper carriage for you."
The curtains lifted.
"I happen to be heading to the palace. Why don't you accompany me?"
Zion recognized the voice immediately.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
'Of course.'
When he opened them again, Callista was sitting inside the carriage.
She looked as relaxed as ever, one hand resting against the armrest of her seat. A faint smile played across her lips, and there was unmistakable amusement in her eyes.
Zion let out a quiet sigh.
"Of all people..."
Callista's smile widened.
"Is that a complaint?"
Zion looked at the empty carriage chair behind him, then back at her.
"No."
He stepped forward.
"All right."
He climbed into her carriage without hesitation.
Alder, standing beside the carriage, stared after him.
His mouth opened slightly.
He had expected the young physician to hesitate.
Instead, Zion had entered as naturally as though he had done it countless times before.
Alder glanced at Callista.
Then at Zion.
He still could not understand when these two had become so familiar with one another.
More importantly, Callista had never been this accommodating toward outsiders.
Yet she had personally come to pick Zion up.
Inside the carriage, Zion settled into his seat.
Callista studied him for a moment.
Her gaze moved over his uncovered face, and a trace of curiosity appeared in her eyes.
"So," she said, "it seems your days at the General's Manor have not been particularly pleasant."
Zion leaned back slightly.
His expression remained calm.
"You have no idea."
The carriage began moving toward the Imperial Palace, carrying the two of them toward a banquet that would soon place Zion's true identity before the eyes of the capital.