Sister, I'm the Queen This Life (330 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 18

Caesar de Como.

As the illegitimate son of Leo III and the nominal son of the Count of Como, he had always been dissatisfied with life.

Glory was always just within his grasp, yet at the final moment before it fell into his hands, it would invariably be claimed by someone else—someone inferior to him. The most glaring example was the princely title bestowed upon the greenhorn Alfonso, still wet behind the ears.

Though he occupied a balcony seat on the right side of the central aisle of the Imperial Cathedral, he remained discontented.

This was not the topmost balcony reserved for the “true royal family” to observe the Grand Mass, but rather the one situated a level below it.

The king always watched the Grand Mass from the balcony at the uppermost right corner, squeezed awkwardly beside his estranged queen and their dog-like, overly affectionate son.

Although the atmosphere in the royal balcony was perpetually icy, Leo III never once descended to the lower balcony, where laughter and jests abounded.

Caesar and Countess Rubina could only claim Leo III’s attention during discreet, private meetings—not in any official setting.

All his focus was fixed on the highest balcony to the right, yet his pride forbade him from ever glancing upward.

The mere thought of encountering Alfonso’s condescending gaze—from above, looking down upon him—while he himself gazed up from below, was horrifying. Alfonso had achieved nothing on his own merit.

Caesar despised kneeling and looking up from below more than anything else in the world.

To distract himself, he looked down at the lower central aisle, where Isabella—the beautiful daughter of a cardinal—paraded proudly across the main walkway.

Judging solely by the act itself, he deemed it tasteless; yet the sight of a stunning seventeen-year-old girl strutting about like a delighted fairy was undeniably pleasing.

Isabella possessed a magnetic charm that drew every eye. From above, the spectacle was magnificent: as she walked, men’s heads turned one after another toward the central aisle.

‘What is this, some kind of encirclement tactic?’

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