"I greet the Moon of the Empire, Your Majesty," Julian greeted. "I am honored by your invitation," he added, and as he straightened, his mismatched eyes flickered over the women seated before him.
Their affection levels hovered in his vision like floating executionerâs blocks along with their very thoughts of him.
> [Empress Clarisse â Affection level: 6% â Status: Profound Exhaustion]
NOTE: "I somehow see my own shadow in his eyes. How long before he breaks as I have?"
> [Lady Elara â House of Valerius â Affection level: 5% â Status: Pitying Curiosity]
NOTE:
"So this is the man for whom the North turned its swords toward the Throne. He looks as though a stiff breeze would end him."
> [Lady Genevieve â House of Corvus â Affection level: 5% â Status: Calculated Observation]
NOTE: "The Emperorâs obsession is rarely so public. I must see if this scholar is a weapon or a victim."
> [Lady Selene â House of Winifred â Affection level: 4% â Status: Snaky Observation]
NOTE: "I do not see what is so special about this pale man that the Capital is in turmoil."
They all had one or two things to say, but none of them had an affection level that was below 0%, which surprised Julian.
For what reason did they have a positive affection level to begin with?
It was strange, and probably a distant pity, he felt.
The Empress offered a faint smile, her pale fingers trembling as she adjusted the lace at her throat. She looked at Julian not with the fury of a slighted wife, but with a horrifying, quiet recognition.
She knew exactly what it meant to be âprizedâ by Aurelian and also âmarkedâ by him.
"Sit, Master Astrea," she murmured, her voice dry from a chronic cough. "We have heard much of your... unique talents. Liora has been quite vocal about your lessons, and that is why we have asked you to join us."
Julian blinked, surprised. Liora was the one who had asked for him?
He moved his gaze and then found her seated by an empty chair, which she quickly patted.
He took the signal and moved to the chair beside her, his movement feeling a little sluggish, a struggle against the gravity of his own depression.
He felt the weight of their gazeâa collection of sharp curiosity and pity that somehow felt heavier than the Emperorâs hatred.
Liora shifted closer to him, her small hand reaching out to grip a fold of his black coat beneath the table.
He looked at her and saw her affection level.
> [Target: Princess Liora â Affection level: 62% â Status: Fierce Protection]
NOTE: "Master looks even more sick today. What can I do to help him?"
"You donât look well, Master," Liora whispered, her voice loud enough to make the noble ladies exchange a knowing, sharp-eyed glance. "Did the Jade Wing not have enough blankets?"
Julian wanted to fake a smile and say he would get better, but even the thought felt like a wicked lie in his head.
Who would believe him when he looked like a walking corpse, no different from the Empress herself?
The only difference was that he had not lost his flesh like the Empress had to her illness.
She was an elegant lady, even as she suffered and secretly coughed blood into her handkerchief. It made Julian wonder why she held this tea. Was it really just so she could let Liora see him?
Since he was confined, Liora and Cassian couldnât go visit them, and the Emperor mustâve also grounded them for their behavior during Alaricâs March into the palace grounds.
Her mother was her only escape route.
Then again, the Empress mightâve also been curious and used her daughter as an excuse to hold this tea party and summon the man who was causing quite the stir in the Capital.
The papers and the tabloids wouldnât let go of the issue quietly, and speculations were rising from every corner.
"I heard the rooms in the Jade Wing are notoriously drafty," Lady Selene remarked, her voice smooth as honeyed poison. "But I suppose a man of your... scholarly constitution finds the Palace atmosphere rather stifling."
She paused, her eyes tracking the high collar of Julianâs coat, which failed to fully hide the raw redness he had scrubbed into his own skin the night before.
"Though," Lady Selene continued, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial lilt that made the other ladies stiffen, "rumor has it that the Palace hasnât been so quiet at night. Some say the Emperor himself has taken a sudden interest in âeducationalâ oversight. Tell me, Master Astrea, does the Emperorâs presence... warm the room during âlessonsâ, or does it merely add to the chill?"
The air in the Conservatory vanished instantly. Lady Genevieve nearly dropped her spoon, her eyes darting toward the Empress with a look of sheer horror.
To mention the Emperorâs late-night movements in front of his wife was not just a breach of etiquette; it was social suicide.
The Empressâs pale fingers tightened around her porcelain cup until the bone of her knuckles threatened to tear through the skin. She didnât look at Selene. She looked at Julian, her gaze tracing the same red marks, her expression a haunting mixture of pity and a shared, silent trauma.
Lioraâs small face twisted into a scowl. She didnât fully understand the implication of âlate-night visits,â but she recognized the sharp edge in the womanâs voice. She felt Julianâs hand tremble slightly where it rested near hers, and that was enough.
"My father says that those who gossip about the Emperorâs business usually find their tongues much heavier than theyâd like," Liora snapped, her voice high and fearless. "And thus, they end up losing it."
The table went deathly still. The noble ladies looked at the little girl as if she had just brandished a dagger.
Julian knew he needed to speak. He needed to maintain the mask before Lioraâs protection turned into a provocation that would get them both punished.
"Lady Selene," Julian began, his voice raspy but disciplined. He leaned forward, his etiquette flawless even as his heart felt like it was going to fly out of his chest. "The Emperorâs âoversightâ is as thorough as one would expect from the Sun of the Empire. My only concern is that my own... failing health might prove a lackluster subject for his curiosity."