Chapter 8: Crimson Rose
Milim could hardly believe the dreadful words that had just reached her ears.
Who did Emilia think she was?
A forgotten princess, rustic and unrefined, uneducated and cast aside, yet she dared to declare she would one day become Empress!?
Worse still, she spoke as though Caesar, Milim's beloved brother, could be demoted to nothing more than a Grand Duke, while Milim herself would be tossed away like a pawn in some cold, political marriage.
How dare she! How could she even form such monstrous words upon her lips!
"You!!! How could you ever think that you are worth enough for the throne!? The one destined to rule is my brother, Caesar! You ought to return to that miserable wooden shack in the forest where you belong!"
Milim planted both fists upon her hips, her words tumbling out like arrows loosed in fury.
"Do not think that simply because you are a Fifth-Rank Mage you may do as you please!"
In truth, she could not deny it: Emilia's power was formidable, a strength that gave even Milim pause. To a fragile Second-Rank Mage like herself, Emilia's talent was a mountain far above to reach.
Yet to claim the throne by sheer strength alone? So laughable!
"Why do you speak so, Milim?"
Unlike her half-sister's trembling rage, Emilia merely smiled.
She reached out gently, letting her fingers brush a few strands of Milim's hair, her voice soft as velvet.
"Your mother, the Empress, said nearly the same words to me. Tell me, why do you not protest when they fall from her lips?"
Milim's cheeks flamed crimson.
"Th-that is because…"
But Emilia did not wait for her answer. Her eyes, dark as midnight, turned toward Caesar.
"A pleasure to finally meet you, brother."
Caesar's throat tightened. For the first time, he found himself caught in the depths of Emilia's gaze. It was sharp, cold, like the coils of a venomous serpent gliding across his spine.
She hid nothing of her ambition. It struck him with naked clarity.
Caesar's thoughts flickered back to the words of Grand Duke Lukas:
"Rather than a delicate doll, I desire a radiant, fierce, and alluring crimson rose."
Yes… Emilia was just like that.
"Welcome home to the palace. If ever you require anything, all you need is asking me."
Before him stood not a gentle sister, but a woman breathtaking in beauty—mysterious, provocative. So unlike Milim. Perhaps that was why he could not bring himself to see her as a little sister.
She was a stranger. Too dangerous to embrace.
A sister should be like Milim—sweet, innocent. Not like this one, who shone like a blade turned against him.
"Well then, shall I thank you, my dear brother?"
Emilia shrugged, her lips curving into a playful smile.
"But if I seek to claim the throne, you would help me, would you not, my beloved Caesar?"
She gave him no chance to reply. Instead, laughter spilled from her lips as she turned and walked away, her skirts sweeping the floor like a dark tide.
"I just jest. Why does your face look so grave?"
Her fragrance lingered, teasing him, and then she was gone, only her graceful silhouette drifting into the distance.
"Argh! She's unbearable!"
Milim clutched at her hair, her shriek echoing through the corridor.
Caesar watched his younger sister storm off to unburden her grievances upon Empress Sophia.
Until now, there had been no comparison. But beside Emilia, Milim's childishness stood out all the more starkly.
Just as Sophia herself had once seemed small beside the late Empress Liliane.
Caesar remembered, as a boy, sneaking into the capital, where he had once glimpsed Liliane alive.
Liliane and Emilia, so very alike. The same long black hair, the same eyes dark as the abyss. Surely Emilia had inherited much from her mother.
"Caesar."
His name rang from the chamber within.
He entered, meeting the weary gaze of Empress Sophia.
"She is too much like her mother," Sophia murmured, her sigh heavy with unease.
Liliane had been no ordinary woman. Even with the emperor's love at her back, Sophia had once been driven into the shadows, too afraid to confront her. Only after Liliane's death had Sophia dared return.
And now, with Liliane gone, Emilia had risen in her stead.
Every memory of those abyssal eyes made Sophia tremble. Emilia was young, yes but the force within her was already no less than her mother's.
"Mother, why are you so afraid? That Emilia can never compare to my brilliant brother!" Milim protested.
But Sophia only shook her head.
Her gaze fell upon Caesar.
"Emilia's debut party will be held next month. Prepare yourself well. And… your betrothal must be arranged swiftly."
Caesar required a bride of high station, the daughter of a powerful duke or marquis.
If the Velarent royal house suspected Sophia of meddling in the succession, punishment would fall heavily upon her. Marriage was the safest way to secure Caesar's strength.
He had never thought much of marriage before.
Yet suddenly Emilia's face flickered in his mind - her beauty, her brilliance. To have such a woman at his side as his consort… perhaps that would not be so terrible.
The Empress's plans were flawless.
And yet, beneath the surface, something uneasy had already begun to ferment.