"Your lips are falling off! Falling off!"

Leonia stomped her feet and whined dramatically.

"Did I give you that much work?"

Ferio, pretending not to see her antics, turned to ask Varia instead.

"No! If anything, you gave me too little."

Varia denied it while hugging Leonia, who was clutching her lips and sniffling.

"Please, give me more work."

In truth, Varia sincerely hoped he would trust her more and assign her additional responsibilities.

"I'm the Duchess of Voreoti, after all. Just eating and lounging around makes me feel guilty."

"The duty of the Duchess of Voreoti is to eat and lounge around."

"......"

"......I apologize."

That was a joke.

At Varia’s frosty glare, Ferio quickly apologized. He knew perfectly well how foolish that remark was.

"Then can I be the duchess instead of the duke?"

Leonia asked if it was okay to give the title to a son-in-law instead.

Ferio didn’t even bother answering. He considered it not worth the response. Now he understood Varia’s frustration from earlier.

"Still, it’s better for you to take it easy."

Ferio patted Leonia, who was poking him insistently in the side, trying to get his attention.

"There's been a lot going on lately."

"You don’t rest either, Ferio."

"I’m the Duke."

"I’m the Duchess."

"You even yawned from exhaustion just now."

"That’s just because I’ve been tired lately. It’s not the work that’s the problem..."

As she rebutted point by point, Varia suddenly looked puzzled.

"How did you know I yawned?"

"I saw it."

"Oh my god! Since when have you been spying on me?!"

Varia huffed in outrage.

‘Oh, they’re fighting, they’re fighting!’

Leonia’s shoulders bounced with excitement as she eagerly watched her parents quarrel.

"So you saw me yawning with my mouth wide open! Ugh, how embarrassing!"

Her bouncing shoulders instantly deflated. She even gagged a little.

"It was just so cute I couldn’t help watching."

A wave of sugary affection burst forth from her usually stern father’s face—a sight that didn’t suit him at all.

"Liar. What part of that is even cute...?"

"Did I not explain it thoroughly enough in bed?"

"No, that’s not what I meant...!"

Varia flushed red.

‘Oh, come on...’

Leonia was utterly disappointed by her parents' sudden display of lovey-dovey affection.

It was like taking a bite of what she thought was spicy tomato stew only to find it was smothered in strawberry jam.

It tasted fine—but the disappointment was massive.

‘Rip each other’s hair out and fight, seriously.’

Leonia tilted her head, lamenting the lack of a proper brawl between her parents.

‘Mom’s kind of strange, too.’

Why would she ask for work? Leonia couldn’t understand it.

Now that she thought about it, Ferio was the same. Maybe being overburdened with work was just a protagonist trait.

‘If it were me, I’d be shaking maracas and partying nonstop.’

Leonia wistfully ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) recalled her toddler days—days when she could ogle muscles like a madwoman and still be forgiven.

"...Huh?"

Something caught Leonia’s eye.

"What’s this?"

"Th-that’s...!"

Varia panicked and tried to stop her, but it was impossible to stop Leonia, who’d grown strong enough to spar with Ferio.

"An invitation?"

Snatching it up with an annoyingly quick hand, Leonia inspected the invitation.

Her eyes went wide at the green wax seal pressed into it.

***

The Empire had entered summer.

Cicadas clung to trees and wailed incessantly. The sun's relentless rays scorched the ground, making the heat rise in shimmering waves and sapping everyone’s strength.

The heat was so stifling, every breath felt like it was crushing your lungs.

"......"

"......"

Just like the nobles attending the aristocratic council.

"Why do you all look like that?"

Among them, only Ferio sat with his arms crossed, completely at ease.

‘This crazy bastard...’

Even his longtime friend, Carnis, could only manage an awkward smile.

‘Who the hell can stay relaxed in a situation like this!’

Carnis clenched his fists under the table.

If it were up to him, he’d have shouted in Ferio’s face right then and there. But doing that might have cost him his life.

Marquis Ortio of the East had already averted his gaze, clearly uncomfortable.

The only one maintaining a composed expression was the Marquis of Pardus’ eldest son—but even he seemed more strained than usual.

"If there’s nothing else—"

Ferio swept his gaze over the other nobles. He clearly didn’t care what they were thinking. In truth, he really didn’t.

"I’ll continue."

And so he resumed the statement he had paused earlier.

The nobles looked like death.

"As I stated earlier, when we re-investigated the attack on Professor Ardea Bosgruni’s lab, many suspicious elements surfaced."

So Ferio brought everything.

In case any of them tried to deny it—he’d already anticipated their moves and came prepared.

"The lukewarm attitude of the investigative authorities, and the failure to protect the victim."

He laid out newspaper clippings from that time and written testimonies from the Academy staff to back them up.

"Threatening letters kept by Professor Bosgruni and a journal documenting those events."

Bundles of papers and a worn-out notebook were stacked among the evidence.

"The perpetrator demanded all of Professor Bosgruni’s research on Northern legends."

This aligned exactly with what Remus had claimed during the Rite of Honor, and served as proof that the Imperial Family truly believed in the northern legends and had meddled accordingly.

"Your Highness."

Ferio looked toward the seat at the head of the chamber, usually occupied by the Emperor.

"Please, take a look."

Seated there in the Emperor’s stead was Prince Chrisetos.

"...Very well."

Prince Chrisetos nodded, and the attendant behind him brought the documents and handed them to him directly.

"So then, Duke Voreoti is saying..."

Prince Chrisetos examined the evidence one by one. His golden eyes moved carefully, never stopping for a moment.

"That the Imperial Family was involved in all this?"

"It’s merely speculation."

"You seem quite convinced, though."

The prince deliberately slammed the notebook shut with a loud thump. A troubled smile formed on his face.

"I understand your intentions, Duke Voreoti."

The prince glanced around the chamber and spoke in a gentle voice.

"I think we all do."

And as if to affirm that, the nobles nodded along. His calm and smooth tone naturally drew agreement.

A subtle trick—but a critical tool.

Maintaining that same tone, Chrisetos continued.

"Strictly speaking, the Voreoti household was struck by lightning out of a clear sky. And everyone in the Empire knows how dearly the Duke and Duchess treasure Lady Voreoti."

Which is why, he said sadly, their pain was understandable.

"I, too..."

Trailing off, the prince gave a faint, awkward smile. He was referring to Princess Scandia, who was currently missing.

"Duke Voreoti..."

As Ferio scoffed at the prince’s shameless performance, he raised his eyes.

"You were right to be concerned. Clearly, disrespectful individuals were stirring up trouble in the North."

Everyone knew without it being said that those “individuals” meant Olor. Naturally, all eyes shifted in one direction.

There sat Viscount Olor. His presence was certainly... bold.

Especially since today’s agenda included a motion to strip Olor of his title.

He must have known it too—his usual composure was nowhere to be found.

"He will receive the punishment he deserves."

The prince declared firmly.

Viscount Olor flinched slightly—but no further reaction showed.

By contrast, the imperialist faction that had rallied around him looked truly rattled.

They feared that Olor’s downfall might drag them down as well.

‘He’s confident...’

Ferio smirked slightly as he observed him.

‘Because he’s holding something over the Emperor?’

Viscount Olor was the man who had sold his illegitimate daughter to gain a title. He probably knew that Remus and the Emperor had tried to kill her husband.

‘...Ah.’

Ferio had a moment of realization.

‘Now it makes sense.’

The Emperor hadn’t protected Olor out of love for Consort Usia.

He was terrified of having his past murder exposed.

Of course, the man—young heir of House Aust—hadn’t actually died. But the Emperor didn’t know that, nor did Olor, so neither could let go of the other.

‘Utterly pathetic...’

A selfish Emperor who thought only of himself—and a fool like Olor who believed he was manipulating such a man.

It was absurd how they ended up entangled.

"However."

Prince Chrisetos spoke with firm resolve.

"The claim that the Imperial Family was involved seems... misplaced."

"Even though the evidence is this clear?"

Ferio asked.

"I’m not denying the evidence."

The prince continued.

"It’s a matter of phrasing."

"And what’s wrong with the phrasing?"

Prince Chrisetos slowly pushed the documents forward as he answered.

"It wasn’t the Imperial Family..."

"...It was the Emperor."

The chamber erupted.

Especially Viscount Olor, who slammed the table with his fist, his face twitching violently in near-convulsion.

"Your Highness!"

He shouted, his face red as if about to burst.

"How disgraceful."

Prince Chrisetos openly scolded the viscount’s insolence. Yet, he waved his hand slightly—as if granting him permission to speak.

Go on, say something.

"Are you implying that His Majesty the Emperor is to be doubted?!"

"You’ve been quite eloquent for a while now, Viscount."

The prince warned sharply. He meant: Know your place.

Famous for his kindness, the Second Prince’s sudden cold eyes and commanding tone startled Viscount Olor for the first time.

‘Damn it...!’

Viscount Olor ground his teeth furiously.

Not only was the situation spiraling out of his control, but the presence of the Second Prince at this council infuriated him.

"Then go ahead, Viscount. Speak."

Prince Chrisetos fully turned toward him.

"We have clear evidence that Olor sent threatening letters to Professor Bosgruni and arranged the attack on his lab."

"......"

"The idiotic stunt your son pulled during the Rite of Honor isn’t even worth mentioning."

"......"

"And the enormous sums you’ve received under the guise of representing national projects..."

All of it—riddled with corruption.

As the prince laid everything out point by point, Viscount Olor didn’t say a word.

Not only because the prince was cornering him—but because he truly had nothing to say in return.

"Are you saying Viscount Olor did all this alone?"

The prince smirked.

"Then that would be a truly serious matter."

If he wasn’t just losing his title—he might very well lose his head.