Chapter 7: The Tea Party of Empress Sophia
"A tea party?"
Emilia held the letter delivered by a maid, let out a soft, derisive laugh, and tossed the invitation aside.
"Then, will you attend, Princess?" the head maid inquired cautiously.
"Of course. Why would I not?"
With calm indifference, Emilia flicked a butter cookie into her mouth and spoke as though it were the most trivial matter.
"Find me a radiant and resplendent gown . It would be improper to appear before the Empress in something plain. I would not wish to offend her eyes."
The maids bustled about, swift and efficient. Before long, Emilia emerged, a vision of nobility: a beautiful princess adorned in precious jewels, her attire flawless.
Accompanied by a single maid, she made her way to the Venus Palace of Empress Sophia. The tea party had already been set within the reception chamber. Sophia awaited inside, dressed in garments far more modest than one might expect.
"Greetings, Your Grace," Emilia intoned, bowing with impeccable grace, her courtesy flawless, no different from a princess raised and trained within the palace walls, as Milim had been.
The sight only deepened Sophia's displeasure.
Why was it that a child cast out from the palace could still bear herself with such poise, such excellence?
Once more, Sophia felt fortunate. At the very least, she had succeeded in driving Emilia out thirteen years ago, buying Caesar the time he needed. Now, Caesar's position was all but unshakable.
Even with the backing of the Magician Tower, Emilia could not so easily win the nobility's support.
For nobles, whose hearts beat for profit and power, no matter how talented as a mage, a princess could hardly rival a crown like a prince. Without the Empress as her pillar, her odds of seizing the throne were meager at best.
Today's gathering had a purpose: to make that perfectly clear to the forgotten princess.
"Emilia, it has been so long. Have you fared well all these years?" Sophia asked in a tone of gentle familiarity.
"Other than living like a commoner, locked away in a small house deep within the forest, all has been perfectly fine," Emilia replied with a bright smile.
Sophia's own smile nearly faltered, twisting at the corners.
"I see… ha ha… Then tell me, what are your plans for the future? At your age, enrolling in the Magician's Academy alongside Milim would be quite suitable."
Her intent was clear: to guide Emilia into becoming a scholar-mage, chasing knowledge rather than power, abandoning any thought of contesting Caesar's claim to the throne.
"The Magician's Academy?"
Emilia laughed aloud.
"You want me to study? Yet I am already a Firth-Rank Mage. What more could your Academy teach me? Would you have me enroll as a teacher instead?"
Indeed, with her current attainments, Emilia could already have applied for a teaching position within the Academy itself. Sophia had seemingly forgotten this simple fact, treating her as though she were still like Milim, just a mere Second-Rank Mage struggling to climb the ladder of learning.
From the very beginning, Sophia's plan had been nothing but a farce.
"Then allow me to be frank," Sophia pressed, her voice tight. "Your return to the palace, both His Majesty and I shall endeavor to compensate you as best we can. Except for…"
Her words trailed off, her eyes gleaming with meaning unspoken.
Except for the throne itself. That much was clear.
For a princess, becoming queen was far rarer than for a prince to ascend as king. Most were married off to dukes or marquises rather than permitted to inherit the crown.
"You know of Lukas von Premirer, do you not? I can promise you a duchess's title equal to his, should you wish it."
Throughout history, few princesses had ever borne the rank of Grand Duchess. Those who had were all of exceptional strength and talent. Sophia was certain Emilia would be satisfied.
But she was gravely mistaken.
"I shall reclaim what is mine, whatever it may be."
Emilia's gaze was cool, her tone even.
"Be at ease, Your Grace. Once I ascend as Empress, I will let Caesar retain the dignity of a Grand Duke. And Milim too, shall be given a husband worthy of her."
Sophia's face blanched, her eyes wide with disbelief, fixed upon Emilia as if upon a specter.
Emilia's laughter rang bright and unrestrained. Rising, she executed a graceful bow before swiftly turning to depart. At the threshold, she whispered, her words cutting as a blade:
"I am greedy, my dear Empress. Nothing you offer can ever fill the hunger I have borne for thirteen long years."
She was no docile princess, no gentle lamb. She was a ravenous beast, intent on devouring all she desired.
From the start, Sophia's hopes of negotiation had been nothing but a vain dream.
If I can seize everything, why do I have to accept the scraps of another's charity?
Emilia laughed inwardly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, moving with grace and elegance as she stepped from the reception chamber of the Venus Palace.
But the moment she emerged, her eyes met a sight most unexpected: Milim, her face twisted with fury, and Caesar standing beside her, his gaze locked upon Emilia.
"Greetings. A pleasure to meet you both," Emilia said lightly, unconcerned. She turned as though to leave, but Milim swiftly barred her path.
"Stop right there, Emilia!"
Milim's voice thundered through the hall.