C5 Chapter 5 : Palace (Part 1)
A grand silver-coated horse-drawn carriage thundered in, its size larger than that of ordinary nobles.
A dark red velvet curtain was drawn aside. The carriage bore distinctive embellishments at each corner, so that anyone who looked at it would know immediately that it did not belong to just anyone.
Meanwhile, in another corner of the room, a pair of eyes opened faintly.
He could see a ceiling unlike the ones made of old wood in his childhood home.
The room carried the scent of lavender, tickling his sense of smell.
Half-covered by a blanket, he sighed softly as he stretched his body.
“Where am I?”
He whispered, sinking into a thick foam mattress draped with premium velvet.
His gaze shifted; beside him was a glossy solid wood bedside drawer.
Now he looked up.
Above him hung a large crystal-shaped chandelier. He rubbed his eyes.
The young man’s throat was still dry.
Silence enveloped him.
His eyes fluttered open and closed several times before finally waking with a jolt.
“Gasp! Mother?—”
His shout was weak. A cough burst forth like shattering glass. His shoulders trembled until a woman in a black-and-white tunic approached, bowing her head.
Her hand trembled slightly as she offered a clear glass of water.
“Prince Cassian, you’re awake?” the young woman said.
Her body bowed slightly, her eyes cast downward as if reluctant to face someone.
Prince? Did she just call me that? —Cassian thought.
He wiped his lips with a cloth, taking the glass of water from the servant to quench his thirst.
It seemed I managed to enter the palace faster than planned. My original intention was to approach Marquis Lucien first.
Cassian placed the glass back on a tray. The woman’s thin lips curled faintly.
“Where’s my mother?” Cassian asked hoarsely, his voice rough.
“Lady Cassandra is meeting with the emperor.”
Mother? Meeting the emperor?!
No! I have to get there immediately.
The young man rose from his bed. His first steps wavered, but after a few paces, he was able to sprint out of the room.
His goal was clear: to see what his mother and the emperor were discussing.
Minutes later, he arrived at a grand 5-meter-tall door, made up of two sets of panels.
Two guards in armor stood upright, weapons in hand.
Cassian clutched his chest, moving forward without a plan, until two spears swiftly blocked him.
“You cannot enter without the emperor’s orders!” the guards shouted loudly.
The young man scoffed, still in a tattered tunic covered in scars.
He stood with a sharp gaze.
“You don’t know who I am?! I am the emperor’s son!” he shouted, his voice cracking.
Suddenly, the sound of heels echoed across the red velvet floor.
Her steps resounded with a stomp, immediately dominating the silence of the room.
“So rustic! First time entering the palace, huh?” she squealed in a high-pitched voice.
“Well… not surprising. A child of a slave like you would not know manners and etiquette,” said a young, attractive girl.
Her long, wavy hair was dark red.
Heavy makeup and a black velvet noble gown added a formidable, intimidating aura.
The woman was no stranger to Cassian from his previous life.
Ruby Rynete Magnus, the emperor’s daughter by his first consort, Rosaline.
The young man narrowed his eyes. He looked back at the large door, still sealed by the guards.
He had no intention of arguing with Ruby for now.
What mattered most was his mother, Cassandra.
“Open!” he commanded with all his strength.
“No emperor’s order, no entry!” the guards repeated their line.
Ruby waved her fan, laughing mockingly.
She passed by Cassian with a final word.
“Foolish.”
Her words made Cassian snort.
His sharp eyes followed Ruby as she walked away.
Not long after, a man in high-class white noble attire embroidered with patterns emerged from the grand doors. His steps were quiet but heavy.
“Prince, the emperor has summoned you,” said the man with a cold smile—the empire’s administrator.
Marquis Lucien Devereuq.
DREEEETTTTT.
The door creaked loudly, the light from the crystal chandelier piercing Cassian’s dark pupils.
“Blinding,” he murmured, teeth gritting.
Before him stood the emperor, with thick upward-arched eyebrows.
A masculine, handsome face. No mustache or beard at all.
Father is nothing like I imagined.
In my previous life, I never met the emperor. He was said to be frail and forbidden to leave his room.
Leadership procedures were handled through the empress.
In the room stood the person Cassian sought.
“I pay my respects to the sun of the empire,” Cassian bowed upright, his voice weak and hoarse.
Yet his eyes were still on the woman standing not far from his feet.
His mother, Cassandra.
