Side Story 1.19
Sometimes, soothsayers and prophets ruin perfectly functional situations by flapping their mouths.
The king stared up at him, dazed, then realized the truth too late. His face crumpled as if the sky had fallen. But it was over. Once an arrow left its bowstring it couldn’t be taken back—unless one could turn back time itself.
The Emperor signaled the knight holding a sword to the king’s throat. A spray of blood painted the air. When the tardy royal family rushed in and saw the king’s head rolling on the floor, they screamed in horror.
“What—what is this?!”
“I merely returned the favor your father intended for me.”
“…What?”
The royal family members, who understood his meaning, wore stunned expressions. But soon, they stiffened their faces as if they couldn’t believe it. Perhaps they simply didn’t want to believe.
“There’s no way His Majesty would do such a thing!”
“There must have been some misunderstanding!”
“He admitted it himself, yet you call it a misunderstanding?”
When he retorted in an amused tone, the royals held their breaths. The sight of the color draining from their faces one by one was almost comical.
‘Pathetic.’
He had heard rumors that this kingdom’s royals were all exceptionally good-looking, but clearly, that wasn’t the case. There wasn’t a single handsome man worth noting. Even Prince Cedric was merely the best of a bad lot—by his standards, his appearance was far from acceptable.
‘Those dark circles under his eyes mean he hasn’t been blocking sunlight properly. The shadows beneath them are pitch black—his sleep schedule must be irregular, and he definitely doesn’t eat enough vegetables. And those lips? Completely dry, not a hint of moisture. Even cracked. Disastrous. He clearly doesn’t take care of himself at all.’
His gaze swept over Cedric with disdain.
‘Did he just grab whatever clothes were lying around without considering the color, design, or fabric that would suit him? That outfit only emphasizes his narrow shoulders and short legs. And that hideous, ambiguous shade—neither green nor blue, some wretched sapphire. His pale, straw-like hair is so brittle it could double as a broom. Truly a nightmare of an appearance.’
In truth, Prince Cedric was a handsome man with striking platinum-blond hair, average shoulder width, and decently proportioned legs. His clothes, befitting a prince, were custom-made by a reasonably skilled tailor, and his accessories matched his status.
But the one judging him was the Emperor. A man who had spent his entire life surrounded by only the finest and most beautiful things—a man who, upon glancing in the mirror, saw only his own flawless face. An Emperor who could even find fault in his own features. There was no way Prince Cedric could meet his aesthetic standards.
Meanwhile, Cedric and the other royals were thinking the exact opposite.
They had heard the rumors, but his beauty was truly unreal.
A transcendent appearance that seemed to defy categorization—so overwhelming it was hard to believe he was even the same species.
The young Emperor of the Empire resembled a god who had briefly descended to the mortal realm. And that was precisely what made him terrifying. Things that exist beyond comprehension naturally evoke both awe and fear. And given that he wielded power on this earth no different from a god’s, the effect was even more pronounced.
Prince Cedric, struggling to maintain his composure as his consciousness threatened to slip away, forced himself to respond as calmly as possible. If they were accused of attempting to assassinate the Emperor, they would have no defense—extermination would be inevitable. Even a royal family would be no exception. The lives of his entire family were at stake.
“It’s not that we doubt Your Majesty’s words… but we have not heard our father’s confession.”
At the implicit challenge—Who’s to say you didn’t kill him and then frame him?—the Emperor arched an eyebrow.
“What was the justification I gave for conquering Alpenheim again?”
At the sudden question, Prince Cedric faltered. The justification for the Emperor’s invasion of Alpenheim? As far as he could recall, there had been none. At the same time, he realized—
“Why should I need some elaborate excuse to deal with the likes of you?”
The Emperor’s arrogant tone made it clear—why would he bother with tedious justifications for insignificant creatures like them? After all, this man had turned a peaceful country to ruins without reason. There was no need for him to fabricate some flimsy pretext now. Then… did that mean his father truly had…? Prince Cedric clenched his eyes shut. The other royals, sensing their tragic fate, began to stir in unrest.
“Swear your loyalty.”
At the Emperor’s command, Prince Cedric’s eyes flew open. The others also gasped in shock.
“Pledge your loyalty to me, and I will spare you.”
No sooner had the Emperor declared this than one of them rushed forward.
“I—I swear my undying loyalty to Your Imperial Majesty, the Great Emperor!”
The prince prostrated himself, pressing his lips to the Emperor’s boot and bowing his head. Seeing this, the other royals scrambled to follow suit, hastily swearing their allegiance lest the Emperor change his mind.
Prince Cedric’s turn came last. Like the others, he lowered himself as much as possible and pressed his lips to the Emperor’s military boot.
“To Your Imperial Majesty, the Great Emperor… I, too, pledge my loyalty until the day I die.”
After performing the humiliating gesture, he dared a glance upward—only to find the Emperor wearing an unreadable expression, neither a smile nor a frown.
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