Inside a moving carriage, two strikingly beautiful women sat facing each other. One, a mature woman with molten red hair cascading down her back and emerald green eyes that held the wisdom of an Empress. The other, younger—barely twelve—but already carrying an air of arrogance, with the same scarlet hair yet eyes of deep crimson, like a pool of fresh blood.

The Empress of Castria, Emily Castria.

Her youngest daughter, Princess Sophie Castria.

Emily’s gaze lingered on her daughter. “Are you ready for this, Sophie?”

Sophie’s expression remained indifferent—borderline dismissive. “I know what I’m doing, Mother. I want this farce to end more than anyone.” She scoffed, eyes narrowing. “To begin with, I don’t know who thought it was a good idea to engage me to some—”

Crackle—!

Before she could finish, lightning flickered in the air. The carriage interior hummed with static as Emily’s aura erupted—an oppressive weight pressing down.

Sophie’s eyes widened in shock. She wasn’t expecting her mother to use her aura.

Emily’s gaze sharpened. “Speak with respect. I am your mother, not your friend.” Her voice turned dangerously soft. “Continue with this tone, and I will use my intent. Perhaps it will give you some insight—who knows?”

Sophie’s heart pounded against her ribs, but she refused to let it show. She gritted her teeth, suppressing the unease crawling up her spine.

Finally, she exhaled and lowered her gaze. “…I apologize, Mother.”

Emily let the tension linger before withdrawing her aura. “Good. Keep that arrogance in check.” Her expression turned serious. “I may tolerate it, but that witch won’t. And believe me, if she decides to act, I won’t be able to stop her.”

Sophie’s fists clenched, but she didn’t argue.

Emily continued, “And don’t antagonize the boy. Noah may be young, but he’s an SSS-rank holder. Talent-wise, he surpasses even you.”

A flash of resentment flickered in Sophie’s crimson eyes, but she simply muttered, “…Understood, Mother.”

The carriage came to a halt.

Emily sighed. “Let’s go.”

⸻

Weaverheart Estate – Meeting Room

Selene sat at the head of the grand table, her icy gaze locked onto the two figures before her. Across from her, Emily and Sophie Castria sat with composed expressions.

“We greet the Duchess,” they spoke in unison, offering only the slightest bow—just enough to show respect, but not submission.

Selene’s lips curled in a faint, indifferent smile. Her entire presence radiated cold.

“Welcome to my home,” she said, her tone carrying a distant chill. “Let’s not waste time—tell me why you’re here.”

Emily smiled smoothly. “Nothing much. My daughter simply wished to meet her future husband. And as her mother, I came to ensure everything goes smoothly.”

Lies.

Selene didn’t comment. She had no patience for stupidity.

If they truly thought they could walk in here, make her son sad, and leave unscathed?

Foolish dreams.

“Fine,” she said. “He will be here soon.”

Just as she spoke, the doors swung open.

A young man stepped in.

His violet hair, tied in a loose ponytail, shimmered under the light. His silver eyes glistened like frost.

And the moment he entered, the temperature dropped—just slightly, but noticeably.

It wasn’t an aura. Just his presence.

Emily and Sophie froze.

Their hearts pounded.

They had never seen an SSS-rank being before.

Now they understood.

The gap between SS and SSS was not just power—it was existence itself.

Yet, Noah only smiled.

“Hello.” His voice was smooth, laced with a sharp, icy edge. “I am Noah Weaverheart, only son of Selene Weaverheart and heir to the Weaverheart Dukedom. Pleased to meet you, Your Highness the Empress, and Your Highness Princess Sophie.”

Sophie narrowed her eyes.

She had expected arrogance. A spoiled brat clinging to his mother’s influence.

Instead, she was met with composure. Presence. Power.

Noah suddenly made a forgetful expression, tilting his head.

“Ah! I nearly forgot.” He grinned, mischievous yet sharp.

Selene’s heart fluttered. My baby is too cute.

“I also hold another title—one just as important.”

He turned toward Sophie.

“I am also your fiancé, Princess Sophie. Your future husband.”

Sophie flinched—not in fear, but in something else. Something unfamiliar.

Noah’s smile widened. “I know why you’re here.” He leaned back. “You wish to discuss breaking our engagement.”

He glanced at Emily.

“But before we proceed, I have a request.”

Emily raised an eyebrow.

“I’d like to have a word with you, alone, Your Highness.”

Selene grinned. Proud. Her son was playing them.

Sophie frowned. She didn’t like how she was already losing momentum.

Emily, on the other hand, was intrigued.

This was not the Noah she had expected.

The last they had heard, he was a spoiled, reckless brat—someone who bullied servants and hid behind his mother’s shadow.

But now…

She leaned forward. “Fine. I have no problem with that.”

…

Now alone with the Empress, Noah felt his heart pounding.

He had acted with confidence, but only he knew how hard his pulse was hammering.

Fuuu… I got this.

Emily sat comfortably, her posture relaxed. “So? What do you want to discuss?”

Noah inhaled. Then, his voice turned serious.

“First, I advise you to place a sound barrier. No one should hear this discussion.”

Emily’s brows furrowed slightly.

“Second,” Noah’s silver eyes sharpened, “I strongly suggest you do not act against me during this talk. You know my mother.” His lips curled. “I don’t need to remind you what she’s capable of, do I?”

Emily’s eyes narrowed. Something was wrong.

Still, she waved her hand, casting a silent barrier.

“Talk,” she said, her voice now colder.

Noah exhaled.

“I know why you’re here.”

“You wish to annul the engagement and marry Princess Sophie to Elijah—the Chosen One.”

Emily’s smile didn’t falter. “So you’re not an idiot.” She chuckled. “Why does that matter? Is your ego hurt? Your reputation? Don’t worry. We’ll make sure—”

“I can’t accept that,” Noah cut her off.

Emily’s eyes flickered.

“It’s better if you choose to accept this without causing any problems. To avoid unnecessary conflict.”

Noah leaned forward. His voice turned cold as death itself.

“Are you sure of your decision?”

Emily’s smile faded. “…I am.”

“Even knowing it will anger my mother?”

“Yes.”

“Even if there are consequences?”

Emily’s gaze hardened. “We are prepared for any consequences.”

Silence.

Then—

“…Even if the entire human domain learns how the Emperor murdered his own brother for sleeping with his wife—the noble and ‘exemplary’ Empress Emily?”

The world seemed to stop.

Emily’s eyes went wide. Her face drained of color.

Her hands trembled.

A single word escaped her lips, barely a whisper.

“…How?”

—End of chapter 10—

A/N:

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