Victor lowered his head. "It’s been said that the emperor has been meeting with Marquis Hessen’s heir,” he reported.
Max gritted his teeth and his expression hardened.
"Mikhail,” he hissed. "It’s unusual for the two to meet so frequently.”
A murderous spirit overcame Max, and Dennis swallowed nervously. "It seems like the emperor is trying to connect him with the princess by using the event as an excuse,” he speculated.
All of Max’s questions were now answered. He could see it now. The emperor didn’t have a reliable support from the nobles, so the marquis must have been an attractive candidate for an ally.
Just then, Max thought of Beatrice and frowned. Ladies tended to dislike hunting contests since most of them viewed them as barbaric. However, some women cheered on the men they were fond of in the hopes of bringing back valuables from the game.
She’s such a pushover. It’s clear she’ll easily fall for his tricks, Max thought to himself.
He didn’t know why Mikhail had suddenly switched targets from Jubelian to Beatrice, but rather than feeling relieved that his competitor had disappeared, he felt uneasy. He had been too complacent. The disgusting obsession he had seen in Mikhail’s eyes was still clear in his mind. He couldn’t believe that the man had given up on Jubelian, and the fact that he was trying to get close to the emperor was suspicious.
"We’ll keep watch on the man,” Max declared.
Then, having given his orders, he left the room.
There were still three days until the tea-tasting party, yet Beatrice was busy checking the mirror for any flaws in her appearance.
Her hair had become frizzy lately, she noticed. She had been applying heat to curl her hair, and this seemed to be the consequence. Frowning, she began to give an order to her head maid.
"Sarah, I’ll need some oil for my hair,” she announced.
Once the maid left, Beatrice looked in the mirror for another moment and then smiled. She thought of sitting next to Jubelian during the tea-tasting party, and the idea alone made her heart flutter in excitement. Squealing, she fantasized about giving all the tea cookies to her friend. Jubelian would definitely enjoy them, and Beatrice could watch her eat them one by one like a mother bird watching over her chick.
She was immersed in happy thoughts when she heard it.
Tap! Tap!
Startled by the noise coming from the balcony window, she turned around and spotted Max. Wondering why the uninvited guest was standing behind the glass, she shivered when she realized something: was it possible that he saw what she had been doing? She glared at him.
"Open it before I break the windows,” he threatened.
Beatrice’s face crumpled in displeasure. No matter how many favors he had done her, he was still an ignorant brute in the end. She opened the doors to avoid further trouble.
"What took you so long?” he complained.
She sneered.
"Be grateful,” she spat. "Who else would open their windows to someone sneaking peeks into their room?”
Max tilted his head.
"Jubelian never made me wait so long,” he retorted.
Her expression hardened. How brazen could he be to secretly watch her?!
"It’s shameful to watch others without them knowing,” she scolded, irritated. "If you love your partner, you shouldn’t do that.”
Max scowled at the criticism. However, regret washed over him once he recalled how he had behaved until now. Maybe that was why she kept asking him to come through the main door. Looking back on his actions, he became concerned about what Jubelian thought of him.
"What brings you here anyway?” Beatrice asked, interrupting his worries.
Reminded of his purpose, Max opened his mouth to speak. "Take great care during the hunting contest.”
"Why?”
He sighed. "Nothing’s certain, so I can’t say anything. I just think the emperor is holding the event with ulterior motives.”
Beatrice stiffened at the mention of the emperor. She understood now. He must have been doing it to gain something. She briefly wondered what benefits her father would obtain from doing this before quickly coming to a conclusion.
The emperor had been holding audiences with Mikhail rather often these days, so was he trying to marry her off? She scoffed in disbelief before turning back to Max. He had warned her about future troubles before her banquet. Did he come here to notify her of similar concerns once more?
It was strange, but her stepbrother was trying to protect her from dangerous things. Appreciative, she parted her lips to speak. "Thank you for letting me know, Max.”
The siblings had always been cold to each other, but a warm atmosphere now flowed between them. Beatrice had just begun to think that she might eventually be able to reconcile with him in the near future when he next spoke.
"By the way, you look ridiculous when you’re making a big fuss about something,” he said, insulting her.
Trembling in anger, she threw a pillow at him. "You stupid creep! Get the hell out of here!”
Looking in the mirror, Mikhail smiled. Everything was going according to plan so far. He wasn’t concerned with winning the princess’ heart since his goal had been to get close to the emperor from the beginning. Mikhail wasn’t sure how, but it seemed like the sovereign knew how to control Duke Floyen.
All he had to do now was come up with a way to manipulate that idiot of an emperor. Getting rid of the duke wouldn’t be a problem then, and once the powerful disruptor was gone, Mikhail could take his time to think about what to do next. For example, he could marry the princess and turn her against the crown prince to get rid of them both.
Just as dangerous ambitions were tainting his heart, someone knocked on the door.
"Young master, a letter has arrived from the royal palace.”
Smiling, Mikhail allowed his servant to enter the room. "Come in.”
Once the man was inside, Mikhail picked up the letter from the silver tray handed out to him and frowned. Suddenly, he was infuriated.
How dare this bastard…!
He forgot that the letter he was holding was from the emperor and crumpled it.
In the royal study, the emperor sat in his chair, stroking his chin. He was thinking about what Mikhail had said the other day.
"How about a hunting contest?” Mikhail had proposed. "It might help announce to the empire that our families have developed friendly relations.”
The emperor hummed thoughtfully, mulling over his choices. A better idea might have been…
Suddenly, the grand chamberlain called out to him. "Your Majesty, Mikhail, the eldest son of Marquis Hessen, requests an audience.”
"Let him in.”
Once he beheld the knight’s handsome face, the emperor smiled brightly. "Welcome. It seems you’re glowing brighter with each passing day!”
Mikhail bowed in response to the praise. "Thank you, Your Majesty. However, you must know that my appearance is insignificant when compared to yours.”
In good spirits, the emperor asked, "So, what brings you here?”
Mikhail clenched his fists.
This greedy bastard, he seethed silently. How dare he try to meddle with what’s mine?
His fury had grown to the point that he wanted to stab the emperor to death. However, he stowed his emotions away and spoke calmly.
"Thank you for the letter, Your Majesty,” he began. "I, however, cannot understand your intention to connect His Highness the Crown Prince to Lady Floyen.”
The emperor smirked. "Maximillian must be dying to make the girl his,” he explained. "It’s a shame that she made it obvious that she wasn’t interested in him.”
"Then you should let him be so that he would suffer,” Mikhail wanted to say.
"Love is like a spark. If there is no opportunity for him to progress further, his interest in her is bound to fade away. I’m just putting a bit of firewood into the flames so that they stay lit.” Glancing at Mikhail, who was still silent, he added, "Even if it might serve as a trial for him.”
Trial? Mikhail could feel himself digging his nails into his palms. The emperor’s letter contained a clumsily written scheme about putting Jubelian in danger so that the crown prince could rescue her. Even if he was the emperor, if he dared to lay a finger on what was Mikhail’s, he wouldn’t let him be. He was determined to make sure the emperor couldn’t carry out his plan.
Masking his boiling sentiments, he answered coolly. "How wise of you.”