Hours later, Lusian Douglas stopped before the Carter mansion. The glow of the lamps bathed the marble columns and the fragrant garden. When Emily stepped out to meet him, the air itself seemed to pause.
She wore a delicate ivory dress, its lace catching the light like threads of moonlight. Her brown hair fell softly over her shoulders, and though her eyes were still reddened with grief, they held a quiet, melancholic calm.
—Hello, Emily —Lusian greeted, slightly taken aback.
—Do I look strange in this dress? —she asked nervously, lowering her gaze.
—Not at all —he replied with a sincere smile—. You look stunning. How are you feeling?
—Better —she said, trying to smile—. Though I'm still… quite sad. But I'll get through it.
Lusian offered his hand, and Emily stepped into the carriage. The sound of hooves against stone accompanied their shared silence.
The grand hall of the palace shimmered beneath hundreds of crystal lamps. Nobles mingled with laughter and raised glasses while music filled the air with elegant notes. When Lusian and Emily entered, heads turned—some with curiosity, others with open envy.
Across the room, Clarise spotted them and hurried over. She embraced Emily warmly before greeting Lusian, and together they joined a small circle of acquaintances.
From a distance, Lusian caught sight of Elizabeth, radiant like a lily among shadows. But she wasn't alone. At her side stood General Marcus Valentine—the Jackal—a man Lusian recognized from the chronicles of the game: a formidable enemy, a warlord meant to be defeated in a future imperial invasion.
Tension crept into the air. Lusian looked away just as Prince Leopoldo made yet another attempt at conquest. The imperial noble bowed toward Isabella Armett, extending his hand with feigned courtesy.
—My lady, may I have this dance? —he asked for the third time.
Isabella barely glanced at him, her expression cold as ice.
—I'm not in the mood to dance, Your Highness.
The prince forced a smile as courtiers pretended not to notice his humiliation. But his expression shifted when he followed her gaze.
She was looking—discreetly—at the young man who had just arrived… Lusian Douglas, standing beside Emily Carter.
A flicker of jealousy—or perhaps curiosity—crossed Leopoldo's eyes. His imperial mind began weaving a venomous idea.
So the princess is interested in that arrogant commoner… Perfect. I'll remind him of the distance between the chosen and the insignificant.
With that thought, he straightened his jacket and approached them with calculated grace.
The banquet had only just begun, and the true masks were starting to fall.
—What a beautiful lady —Leopoldo said smoothly, extending his hand toward Emily—. May I invite you to dance?
—I'm sorry —Emily replied firmly—, I don't know who you are, and my fiancé is present.
She stepped closer to Lusian, seeking refuge in his presence. The gesture did not go unnoticed.
—I deeply regret that —the prince replied with a measured smile—. I am Prince Leopoldo Ferrussi Fabrini, of the Empire of Ítaca.
Emily stiffened. Being rude to a foreign prince could spark diplomatic trouble. But before she could respond, Lusian stepped forward.
—That title only holds weight in your empire —he said calmly, his voice sharp as steel—. Here, it means nothing. If you're a guest, you should act like one.
Murmurs spread like wildfire. Leopoldo frowned, stunned.
—What did you say? You're an ignorant fool! You have no idea of the consequences of your words.
—Of course I do —Lusian replied, unflinching—. Why don't you show me, imperial prince?
A heavy silence fell. Before the prince could react, a female figure pushed through the crowd.
—Brat, have you recovered already? —Kara snapped, stepping in front of Lusian.
He covered his face, trying not to laugh. Seeing her in a dress was almost surreal.
—What are you doing here? —he asked, amused—. You've never liked these events.
—First, how do you know that? —she shot back with a grin—. Second… tomorrow, at the amphitheater of the god Dynamus, I'll defeat you.
—I'm afraid I can't —Lusian replied—. I'm joining the expedition into the Cymopelia Forest. Your defeat will have to wait.
Emily leaned closer, whispering anxiously:
—You should be more respectful to the prince…
—Prince? What prince? —Lusian joked dryly.
—Are you trying to run from me? —Kara crossed her arms—. How are you allowed to go on the expedition while I'm not? Unfair!
—Are you all going to ignore me, you insolent brats?! —Leopoldo snapped, his face flushed with anger.
From across the hall, Andrew stepped forward, his voice firm.
—Lusian Douglas The Mondring, you should not offend our guests.
Lusian met his gaze calmly.
—If guests aren't watched carefully, "accidents" might happen… and someone could get hurt.
The air grew heavier. Andrew sighed, trying to defuse the situation.
—Behave yourself, Lusian. Don't cross the line.
He took Leopoldo by the arm and led him away, whispering something to calm him. The nobles watched with a mixture of fear and fascination.
Later, in the throne hall, Duchess Sofía Douglas addressed Alessia Ferrussi with icy composure.
—I appreciate your apology on behalf of your brother —she said—, but it is vital that the prince learns our customs quickly. Otherwise, situations like today may repeat… and the outcome may not be so forgiving.
—Of course, Your Grace —Alessia replied with a flawless bow—. I will personally instruct him.
Sofía gave a slight nod, her warning hanging in the air like a suspended blade.
That night, Lusian withdrew to the Douglas quarters. In a hidden chamber behind a marble wall, Elizabeth awaited him, candlelight dancing over her golden hair.
—It was amusing watching you toy with that fool —she said playfully, stepping closer.
—I didn't find it amusing that he approached you —Lusian replied, more serious.
—So you're jealous… —she teased softly—. Now you know how it feels.
—Yes, I am —he admitted, drawn toward her as if by an invisible force—. Incredibly jealous.
—Lusian… don't… —she whispered, but her words faded as he kissed her, stopping time itself.
Elsewhere, Prince Leopoldo raged, slamming his fist against a table.
—Filthy rabble! They don't know their place!
Marcus Valentine watched him coldly.
—If you won't follow orders, at least your death might start a useful war.
Alessia stepped forward, her voice calm and cutting.
—You were doomed the moment your affinity was revealed. A mere Gamma… Father sees you as a tool. Nothing more.
Her words struck deeper than any blade.
—The heir is Naira Ferrussi Becker —she continued—, an Epsilon. Father worships her. There is no place for someone like you.
Marcus added with a faint smirk:
—The Empire stands above any man, Your Highness.
Then came the final blow.
—Do you know who that "brat" is? —Alessia whispered—. Lusian Douglas. An Epsilon. Father wants him… to breed the perfect heir with Naira.
Leopoldo's face drained of color.
—That brat… is Epsilon? Damn it! —he roared, fury and despair intertwining—. That worthless nobody has what I was denied!
His voice echoed through the chamber, trembling with something deeper than rage—something closer to despair.
Back in the hall, Emily stood with her parents when Alejandro approached.
—May I have this dance, miss? —he asked, extending his hand.
She hesitated, glancing toward Lusian.
—Alejandro… I need to speak with you. Alone.
They stepped into a quiet corridor.
—We need to keep our distance —Emily said softly—. Lusian misunderstood our relationship… and I don't want it to cause problems.
Alejandro's expression hardened.
—Did he threaten you?
—No —she shook her head—. This is my decision. I just want to avoid conflict.
His voice trembled.
—You're really going to throw away our friendship?
—There are things I can't ignore —she whispered.
Silence stretched between them before he finally turned away.
—…I understand.
Emily stood still, holding back tears before returning to the hall.
Lusian was there, watching the dance floor.
—You're back —she said, forcing a smile.
—Yes. I feel better.
—I spoke with Alejandro —she murmured—. I told him we can't be friends anymore.
Lusian blinked, stunned.
—What? Emily, wait. I never wanted you to push people away. I don't mind if you keep seeing him.
—I will fulfill my duty —she replied, her voice trembling—. I won't go back on my word.
Lusian fell silent.
For the first time, he understood something painful: good intentions were not enough.
In trying to protect the balance… he had only managed to break it.