Chapter 1199

Even though the Duke of Diarca and other members of the aristocratic faction had naturally opposed him, the Duke of Peleta had somehow maneuvered past every single one of their obstructions, moving steadily toward his goal. At times, he acted like a petulant child; other times, like a royal brute unwilling to budge.

He behaved like someone not even worth guarding against—so convincingly that it felt true—and yet, when you came to your senses, something had already progressed. The Duke of Diarca had said Kishiar la Orr couldn’t possibly do anything on his own, but Kachian had sensed otherwise. Something didn’t feel right.

Could someone truly idiotic handle things with such persistent efficiency?

That smiling face—was it not the same as the fake smile Kachian had learned to perfect? Wasn’t it hiding something cunning beneath?

Maybe it was because Kachian had spent his life faking smiles in front of the Duke of Diarca that he could feel that eerie dissonance.

When you don’t suspect someone, you see nothing. But once you start doubting them, that man’s grin only grew more unsettling. Kachian had even set up traps to expose Kishiar’s true nature—but even when the man blundered into every one of them, he managed to slip past each crisis with comical ease, which only made him seem even more suspicious.

He was too weak. And it was precisely because he wasn’t suspicious enough... that made it suspicious. There was no better explanation for what Kachian felt than intuition itself.

The Duke of Diarca had called Kachian overly sensitive. But Kachian could never shake the sensation that the chilling beauty Kishiar wielded would one day turn into a real blade and stab him through the heart.

And in the end... I was right. Again.

Since becoming Crown Prince, the Duke of Diarca and his men had praised Kachian's intelligence with polite words—but that was all. To them, Kachian had to be just smart enough not to get in the way, but never clever enough to rise above them.

What they wanted was a boy forever easy to control—someone they could hold and use.

Even now, when talk of a Crown Prince’s betrothal should naturally arise, Kachian’s was dismissed with “He’s still too young.” Everything he did was written off as the whims of a “naive boy.” No one listened to him. No matter how hard he tried to stand on equal footing with them, it was useless. Nothing helped—not even his own body.

Every time Kachian looked in the mirror and saw how little he’d changed since becoming Crown Prince, he was overcome with revulsion. No matter how much time passed, he was forced to remain an eternal child. If only, like the Duke of Peleta, he had grown in a way no one could deny—perhaps then those words would lose their power. But his delicate face didn’t even look like that of a man on the verge of adulthood.

But look now. The result of everyone ignoring Kachian’s warnings was right here—in those smug, triumphant faces.

The Duke of Diarca was wrong. Kachian la Orr was right.

Even in the midst of this infuriating situation, that truth gave Kachian a deep, grim satisfaction.

“Kachian la Orr.”

The Emperor Keillusa finally spoke.

“How long do you plan to stand there? If you can’t locate your seat, ask a knight to guide you.”

Kachian spotted the one empty wooden chair in the room. It was far too shabby for the Crown Prince, but he understood that getting angry now would only work against him. When a knight began to approach, seemingly ready to escort him, Kachian raised a hand.

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on me! I’ll go myself.”

He walked with the regal poise he’d practiced tens of thousands of times, each step full of princely dignity. Even the way he sat—elegantly, with a calculated glare directed at the Emperor, Empress, and Duke of Peleta—was a performance he had mastered. Only the monster of the Cavalry seated beside them received not a single glance.

They placed that thing there to protect themselves and humiliate me. Pathetic.

As much as he hated to admit it, that monster—Yuder Aile—was clearly the sharpest blade the royal family had unearthed. So naturally, the Emperor gave him special treatment. And the Duke of Peleta? Of course he’d cling to him now—pretending to accept him as neither man nor woman—because the puppet master needed his doll.

Keeping a monster like that close was a powerful deterrent. If Kachian were Emperor, he would’ve done the same thing in a setting like this.

But I’m not ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ afraid. Because I know exactly what they’re trying to do.

He smiled, convinced he had read the Emperor’s intent. With a more relaxed expression, he scanned the room again—and suddenly, a thought struck him.

Come to think of it... all these people gathered in one place... could this be the perfect chance to prove I’m still standing strong?

Ever since being virtually imprisoned and “treated” under the Duke of Diarca’s hand, no one had visited Kachian. Not during the investigation into the Solar Palace break-in. Not even in the days leading up to this moment. He had been completely alone.

It had been a maddening time.

If someone—anyone—had shown even hostile interest, he might have seized the opportunity to turn the situation. But no one looked at him. No one saw him. What use was it to speak to fools like Kiole or powerless figures like the Sage? It was those with real power and real voices who ignored him.

But this place—this was different.

People from Diarca were behind him. Powerful, unaffiliated individuals were watching. If the Emperor set up this gathering just to disgrace him, he’d made a huge mistake.

Yes... you’ll regret thinking you could mock me.

Kachian’s eyes darkened with resolve.

He failed to notice that the curve of Kishiar’s smile had grown deeper, darker.

***

The Emperor Keillusa raised a hand and opened the first page of the Sun God’s scripture laid upon the table. That motion symbolized the opening of the “Chamber of Truth.”

At the same time, the knights guarding the doors all turned in unison—now facing outward. It signified that from this moment forward, nothing that happened in this room could be interfered with, not even by the gods.

It’s starting.

Yuder stared blankly at Kachian, who sat with his chin held high. He didn’t even seem to realize why he’d been brought here. It was obvious—he had been thoroughly cut off from the outside world and trapped in a delusion of his own.

The Duke of Diarca seemed to have half-given up on him, but to isolate him this completely... the Emperor must’ve stepped in.

Even now, Emperor Keillusa was using his power. No one else seemed aware of it—but with Yuder’s sharpened senses, he could see the heat-haze-like energy rippling out from the Emperor.

At first, maintaining his power alone had exhausted him—but now, he could wield it during formal proceedings without even a twitch of his expression. It was hard to believe he’d only recently awakened.

By growth speed alone, he was—in some ways—even more impressive than his younger brother Kishiar.

But that’s only natural. He had an incredibly strong will to control how his powers were used.

Even with just a simple greeting, Yuder could tell that the Emperor had perfectly followed every one of the training routines he had written out. The man’s complexion—once worn thin from working through the night—had become visibly healthier. The muscles beneath his clothes were no longer thin and frail, suggesting a consistent regimen of eating, sleeping, and physical training.

If everyone trained that diligently, I wouldn’t have to worry about progress at all.

It looked like the Emperor was ready to move on to the next phase.

Yuder suppressed the slight sense of pride—perhaps inappropriate when dealing with a nation’s ruler—and looked away.

“Can you explain why you’ve been brought to the Chamber of Truth?”

“Why should I?” Kachian replied with a scoff. “I was dragged here without even a direct invitation. Frankly, I’m quite offended. I may not be of your blood, but I am your designated Crown Prince. Don’t you think such treatment is outrageous?”

The corners of Kachian’s mouth twisted. Accusing the Emperor of mistreating his adopted heir was always a popular tactic.

But Emperor Keillusa, utterly unphased, responded with a flat tone.

“Every royal is obligated to check the correspondence delivered to their quarters daily. An invitation is among those. You claim you didn’t see the letter I sent—but your attendant confirmed it was received. From that point onward, it becomes the master’s responsibility for not reviewing it.”