Through the widely opened doors on either side, the prince’s expression was calm.

Thud, thud. Edan Dietrich walked in with neat, measured steps, impeccably dressed in a uniform without a single wrinkle. His swept-back hairstyle revealed a smooth forehead and high nose bridge, making his handsome features stand out even more.

Acknowledging the nobles’ gazes with a slight nod of apology, he held his neck straight and strode forward with long strides. The warm sunlight streaming through the windows shimmered across his golden hair as if it belonged entirely to him; slowly, he passed by the Empress and Princess, taking his place at the Emperor’s left side.

“I pay my respects to His Majesty, the Sun Emperor of the Empire.”

After bowing deeply and lifting his head, Edan’s crimson eyes met the Empress’s.

“I pay my respects to Her Majesty, the Star Empress of the Empire.”

A faint, sardonic smile curled at the corners of his lips as he gave a light bow of his shoulders.

The Empress’s hand tightened slightly upon seeing that smile—beautiful as it was—but only for a fleeting moment. She glared fiercely at Edan as if ready to hurl her goblet at him, then swiftly composed herself, lifting her chin with elegant poise.

“You’re late. Was there some matter?”

Though her gaze was icy and heavy, her voice remained thoughtful, betraying no trace of displeasure.

“My apologies.”

Edan replied softly, then took his seat. Sieyla, watching him, had turned deathly pale.

His perfectly timed arrival had interrupted the nobles’ conversation—but moments earlier, all had voiced opposition to the marriage.

This was a political marriage orchestrated by Empress Henzela. Having already secured their allegiance, it was unthinkable that they would defy her now.

Reflected upon the polished golden goblet held by the Empress was Edan’s image.

His face, seemingly languid and serene, looked as though he already knew with certainty that this marriage would be entirely canceled.

‘The matter of the political marriage will soon be canceled.’

Recalling the words he had spat out days ago like a threat, Sieyla’s complexion grew ever paler.

“Bring it forth.”

At the Emperor’s gesture, a servant holding a cushion bearing a scroll approached from one side of the council chamber.

The servant unfurled with a crisp snap the scroll detailing the political marriage, bearing the signatures of Edan and Sieyla.

“So the Grand Duke agrees as well.”

Emperor Julius glanced down at Edan’s clearly inscribed name on the scroll. Then, lifting his head, he swept his gaze across the nobles before settling it on Edan.

“What choice do I have? I must follow Your Majesty’s decision.”

The Emperor knew the signature was not truly Edan’s. But the Empress desired this marriage—so he had merely wished to confirm whether Edan was aware of that fact. As always, Edan was obedient—a prince fully conscious of his position as a bastard, ready to comply with any command given.

Any opposition from a few nobles would be effortlessly erased by the Empress, as if it had never existed.

“Is that truly the Grand Duke’s signature?”

“What do you mean?”

It was a different noble from the one who had just voiced opposition. Glancing sideways at the scroll, he spoke with conviction, as if certain the signature was forged.

“The Grand Duke’s signature I know is different. And…!”

The noble’s gaze shifted toward Sieyla.

“Your Majesty wishes to establish relations with the Eastern Empire—we understand that—but isn’t this princess a fraud?”

Before he could even finish, discontented murmurs erupted from all around.

“Exactly! This is an insult!”

“Your Majesty, please reconsider!”

“If the Eastern Empire truly wished to establish relations with us, they should have sent a real princess—not some counterfeit hostage!”

“And wasn’t this princess previously linked to Crown Prince Killian Dietrich?”

“That’s right! Calling this a political marriage is generous—it’s an outright insult to our Empire!”

Faced with the sudden flood of noble opposition, the Emperor looked flustered and turned toward the Empress.

Her face, always haughty and graceful, had hardened into an icy, rigid mask.

The nobles gathered here had long-standing ties to the Empress—so deep, one might say they all owed their positions to her favor.

These were not men who would ever oppose her wishes; if she decided upon a marriage, they would gladly accept it even under worse conditions.

So what on earth had happened?

“Then do all of you oppose this marriage?”

“Yes!”

At the Emperor’s question, everyone present shouted in unison as if rehearsed. The Emperor’s frown deepened further.

Then, the Empress slammed her golden goblet down onto the table—BANG!

The impact was so forceful it caused the unfurled scroll to roll back up. Smiling with crimson lips, she slowly surveyed each noble’s face.

“You seem to have forgotten—the Eastern Empire has no legitimate princess to begin with. Though adopted, their Emperor reportedly holds great affection for this Princess Sieyla.”

Silence fell.

“True, there was an unfortunate incident with the late Crown Prince—but that is all in the past. While it’s true the princess’s standing pales beside the Grand Duke’s, what harm is there? Marriage is rarely a matter of perfect calculation.”

The nobles clamped their mouths shut.

It was a clean, graceful resolution—considering both Edan’s position and the princess’s dignity.

Having effortlessly silenced their objections with a few words, the Empress smiled and turned to the Emperor.

“Your Majesty, it seems they now understand. Now then—”

“No!”

Someone shouted again, cutting off the Empress as she moved to swiftly conclude matters.

“This marriage must not proceed!”

“Your Majesty! It cannot be allowed!”

The voices erupting all at once were impossible to distinguish by house or speaker. In truth, distinction was unnecessary—all mouths had voiced opposition.

The Empress, flustered, raised her eyebrows sharply and her eyes widened in disbelief. Sieyla, who had stood rigidly upright despite the humiliation, mirrored that expression. Anxiety descended like storm clouds before a tempest.

Until then silent, Edan let out a faint sigh. He stared directly at the Empress, his expression conveying polite dismay at how matters had unfolded.

“Oh dear. Regrettable, Your Majesty.”

A gentle smile curved Edan’s lips as he slightly narrowed one eye.

The nobles, as if by silent agreement, all shared the same thought.

‘Mad Prince!’

Yet, strangely, none dared to look directly at him.

Not long ago, Edan had visited the noble estates one by one. His first stop was Duke Ford of House Ford. Though sudden, the visit had been courteous—at least superficially.

‘Cough! Hack!’

Accompanied by two subordinates, Edan entered and, without preamble, forced open the Duke’s mouth and poured in a powder. Then, speaking in a soft, almost pleading tone, he said:

‘I kindly request you oppose my political marriage during the council.’

Duke Ford, choking on the unidentified powder, roared:

‘Grand Duke! What… cough! What is the meaning of this outrage?! Hack, hack!’

White powder sprayed into the air and scattered. Suffocating from the powder lodged in his throat, his fury intensified.

‘Outrage? I’m merely making a request.’

Brushing off the white powder from his jacket, Edan looked coldly down at Duke Ford.

‘The powder you swallowed is a hallucinogen.’

‘Wh-what did you say?!’

‘For at least the next two hours, you will see before your eyes the things you fear most. After that, you’ll hear screams so horrific they might as well be from hell itself. And you’ll feel snakes and maggots crawling all over your body.’

‘Grand Duke…!’

Duke Ford’s hands trembled violently.

He couldn’t dismiss it as nonsense—within minutes, not even five, Edan’s face began slowly twisting into that of a demon. Shaking his head cleared the vision, but a chill ran down his spine.

‘If you don’t drink the antidote within the time limit, who knows what might happen? Let me offer a non-prophecy: everyone who swallows this powder goes mad and dies…’

‘Why are you doing this?!’

Terrified, Duke Ford cut off Edan’s words.

‘Couldn’t you have just asked with words?! How can a person…!’

His face now purplish with fear, Duke Ford received only a sneer from Edan.

‘Impossible.’

A cold shiver ran down Ford’s neck.

‘I wouldn’t go to such lengths if mere words sufficed.’

Madman. Madman. Madman!

The bitter taste of the hallucinogen flooded his mouth, numbing his tongue.

‘All this over such a trivial marriage…’

‘Yes. Precisely because it’s such a trivial marriage, oppose it. It’s nothing serious, is it? Ten minutes have passed.’

‘…!’

After enduring for nearly an hour, Duke Ford finally surrendered.

‘I will strongly oppose the Grand Duke’s marriage in council. Now, give me the antidote…’

‘Thank you. Ah, but if you renege after receiving the antidote, next it will be your wife.’

With mad eyes gleaming, Edan turned away, wearing a satisfied smile. He was clearly out of his mind.

And it wasn’t just Duke Ford—every other noble suffered the same fate. The methods varied slightly, but each involved crude, unheard-of threats holding their very lives hostage. The days of dismissing him as a mere bastard prince were gone; once he set his mind to something, none could properly defy him.

‘That bastard is insane.’

Glancing sideways at Edan’s radiant smile, the nobles felt their throats dry up with dread.

Unaware of this, the Empress was steadily losing her composure, and an oppressive silence filled the council chamber.

“Let us adjourn to allow time for reflection.”

Ultimately, through the Emperor’s mediation, the marriage proposal was granted a one-week reprieve.

“I shall abide by Your Majesty’s decree.”

Edan nodded gracefully, smoothing his collar with poised, elegant fingers as if gladly accepting the decision.

The nobles rushed out of the council chamber without even looking back.

“I shall take my leave as well.”

“Grand Duke.”

The Empress called out as Edan rose from his seat.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Edan halted mid-turn and looked at the Empress.

“Are you refusing the marriage? Defying my command?”

Edan’s lips twitched slightly upward then down, as if her words surprised him.

“What do you mean, Your Majesty? I clearly stated I would obey whatever you commanded.”

“What did you say?”

“I did not oppose the marriage. It was your loyal subjects who did.”

Concluding the conversation with a tranquil smile, Edan gave a slight nod, then turned and walked away. Not a single step in his unhurried exit from the council chamber betrayed haste or disorder.