The soft, tranquil sound of a harp floated gently through the grand dining hall. Guests sat along both sides of the long, polished white table, while at its head sat the Supreme Daughter.
The delicate strings, like heavenly hymns, were the only sound in the otherwise silent room. Despite the number of people present, they all ate without speaking.
At the head, Camelia sat comfortably, with Sol on her right and Duchess Milaris on her left—her refined demeanor marred only by a perpetual scowl.
The table itself reflected a clear divide: two factions glaring at one another in silence. Sol's side had far fewer allies, though he seemed unfazed.
Lavish but light dishes filled the table—extravagance that could have fed a commoner's family for months. Given the Duchess's hostility toward the crown prince, the meal might have felt tense, and in truth, it was. But one reason for the fragile truce was undeniable: the presence of the Supreme Daughter, Camelia Castitas.
If Arachne's contempt for Sol was infamous across the kingdom and beyond, so too was Camelia's open fondness for him. Some even whispered that she was secretly his true mother, though such gossip was confined to common circles; nobles knew better than to risk the wrath of the church.
When the meal ended, the Duchess broke the silence.
"Your Holiness, I thank you for this wonderful feast. The matter I came to discuss is sensitive. Might I request a private audience with you alone? The children could remain and talk among themselves."
The remark froze the room. Even the harpist faltered, her notes dying away. The calm atmosphere turned heavy with hostility.
"Setsuna, enough," Sol said firmly, halting his knight before she could act. Guards were forbidden weapons in this holy place, though Sol himself was exempt. He calmly dabbed his mouth with a napkin, then asked with measured politeness:
"Duchess, may I know by what authority you presume to make decisions for me while I sit here in person?"
She smiled thinly. "Ah, forgive me, I overstepped. But what of it?"
Sol clenched his fists under the table. Her words were a blatant provocation. Crown prince or not, he could not lose composure. Nobility demanded restraint.
"My apologies," she went on with mocking sweetness. "But you are still a child. Surely you can't expect me to treat you otherwise. I heard you were close to Lord Gerald. Do you discriminate against me, then?"
He smiled outwardly but seethed within. No one could replace his uncle Gerald.
Before he could reply, Camelia's gentle hand settled over his, calming his anger.
"Sol Luxuria is crown prince and heir to this kingdom," she said warmly. "There is nothing I would hide from him. If your matter is urgent, Duchess, the three of us may speak privately. Would that suffice?"
For a moment, Arachne and Camelia locked eyes. Then, with a thin smile, the Duchess stood.
"…Very well. I shall return another time. This dinner has been most enlightening."
She left with her entourage, pausing at the door only to cast one last barb at Sol.
"Your Highness, if you don't want to be treated like a child, stop hiding behind your aunt. You are not even a fraction of the man your father was at your age."
With that, she vanished into the shadows.
---
Far away, in her castle, Arachne returned with her butler and contracted partner.
"Was it wise to provoke the prince so openly?" he asked. "If he inherits even half his father's talent, he will become formidable. Can a Blessed even fail to grow strong?"
Arachne scoffed. "Neptune is proof enough."
She sneered at the memory of Sol's grandfather, deemed the most pathetic king in Lustburg's history.
"And even if Sol has talent, what of it? Do you think he can touch House Milaris? I was part of his father's party. I am a hero."
"…His father was already a monster at that age," the butler murmured.
Her scowl deepened. "He isn't his father. There will only ever be one Mars. Do not compare them again."
She dismissed him with a wave. "Now make me tea. I have planning to do."
The butler obeyed, sparing one glance at the portraits of Mars that lined her walls.
'She is pitiable… and utterly mad.'
---
Meanwhile, back at the church, Sol fumed.
"That woman!"
"Calm yourself," Camelia soothed. "You need not be upset. I know you will prove yourself once you awaken. Then they will all see."
She pulled him into a smothering embrace, her warmth softening his bitterness. Sol thought of the three women who shaped his life: Milia, like a mother; Lilith, the strict aunt; and Camelia, the ever-doting aunt who smothered him with affection—sometimes far too much.
"Camelia, please," he said quietly. "I am not a child anymore."
"Oh? So little Sol sees me differently now? Or did being with Milia awaken something in you?" she teased, her tone lilting with implication.
'What?'
She only laughed at his shock.
"Love and lust are two sides of the same coin," she murmured, straddling him and meeting his gaze with her brilliant blue eyes. "As Supreme Daughter, I can only wed within the royal family… or after choosing a successor. You understand, don't you?"
All Sol could do was swallow hard.