Chapter 52: The Flower of the Empire

The long-awaited royal banquet, hosted by the palace after a considerable time, could hardly be described as ‘small-scale,’ contrary to Prince Herace’s earlier remarks.

It was held in Aria Hall, a mid-sized venue among the palace’s various banquet halls, yet it stood as a standalone building.

This unique design allowed its garden, swimming pool, and even a gambling area to be used exclusively for the event.

Typically used to accommodate royal guests and esteemed delegations, the luxurious rooms on the upper floor of the hall had been pre-assigned to grand nobles and a select few high-ranking aristocrats, offering them unparalleled convenience.

“Aren’t the officers of the Antares Unit the main guests tonight?”

Ethan grumbled, accepting the assistance of the attendants as he dressed in the largest and most opulent room.

As a banquet celebrating victory, invitations had naturally been extended to the members of the Antares Unit who had participated in the battle.

While most were wealthy officers earning high salaries, the unit primarily comprised individuals of exceptional talent and capability, inevitably including commoners among their ranks.

Ethan found it disagreeable that even on a day like this, distinctions of social class were still enforced.

A short distance away, Bliss, who was being attended to while donning an elaborate vest, let out a soft chuckle.

“It’s a good thought, but those fellows wouldn’t appreciate such treatment. In fact, His Highness Devon Green, who proclaims himself the ‘King of Commoners,’ once hosted a banquet where he invited commoner Espers and Guides, only to face utter disaster.”

Although the attendants were Herace’s people, it seemed calling royalty by their first name was not permissible within the palace, prompting a change in Bliss’s address.

Ethan quickly grasped Bliss’s intention and, mindful of the proper titles, inquired, “His Royal Highness, the Second Prince? What happened?”

“He invited commoners, then hosted a banquet familiar only to nobles. Naturally, the invited aristocrats and commoners clashed. His intentions weren’t bad, but as royalty himself, His Royal Highness failed to consider that the various etiquettes and complex dishes, which were as easy as breathing to him, would be a source of discomfort for commoners.”

“Oh…”

Ethan let out an exclamation of understanding, raising his arm naturally as the attendants moved to assist him.

Watching him, Bliss’s lips curved into an even wider smile. It was quite amusing to see Ethan, who insisted he was no aristocrat, accepting service more naturally than any noble.

“His Highness Herace, on the other hand, lowered the formality of the banquet itself, while elevating the prestige of the venue, thus satisfying the nobles. Even the assignment of rooms is meticulously utilized for political advantage, but such meanings are lost on commoners.”

“Especially the commoner officers of the Antares Unit—I’d bet a million gwi that they’ll consider this ‘troublesome, fussy, and a waste of time.’ Ah, with the self-proclaimed commoner, Ethan Prescott, excluded, of course.”

The hands of the attendants assisting Ethan paused.

Though they committed no impropriety by interjecting into the conversation, the glances they inadvertently cast upward held a clear question: ‘You, a commoner?’

Ethan was in the midst of turning his body slightly to facilitate the fitting of a wide, tight cover band, assuming a more convenient posture for their service.

“Well, I have no memory of it.”

A flustered Ethan mumbled the most convenient excuse. While he typically led a normal life, adept at dressing and undressing himself, he was often compelled to wear complex hanbok for various rituals, such as ancestral rites or ceremonies for gwi.

The attire varied with each ritual, necessitating assistance every time.

‘Perhaps he truly is a young master after all,’ they seemed to think.

The attendants’ halted hands resumed their diligent movements. Each seemed to carry the unspoken sentiment, ‘Of course, a commoner indeed.’

Ethan, as if blaming Bliss for the situation, glared at his Esper, but ultimately succumbed to the handsome face that met his gaze with a gentle expression.

He had tried on the outfit during fittings, so he hadn’t thought much of it then, but with each piece he donned, the ensemble seemed to elevate his handsomeness to new heights.

“I should have dressed like Bliss too.”

His jacket was a long, fitted style, extending to the length of a coat, adhering closely to his physique.

Its fastening continued below the waist before gracefully flaring out, offering both freedom of movement and a structured silhouette that exuded a distinctly masculine aura.

Paired with dark gray pinstripe pants and knee-high, walker-style boots, the ensemble showcased extreme simplicity.

Yet, the sleeves and shoulders were adorned with layers of elaborate embroidery and delicate chains, adding a touch of grandeur.

Beneath, a tight, blood-red vest, subtly embellished with gold embroidery and buttons, hinted at restrained splendor with every movement.

At Ethan’s words, the diligently working hands of the attendants paused once more.

This time, their halt was not merely a momentary hesitation; they met his gaze with expressions that clearly conveyed they had something to say.

Intrigued, Ethan finally addressed them, “Isn’t that right? Bliss looks far too dashing.”

He had intended to subtly elicit their agreement.

“The attire you are wearing now, Lord Ethan, suits you perfectly. We have not seen anyone exude such an aura since His Royal Highness Devon Green. Indeed, I daresay you are even more beautiful. And I assure you, I am not merely saying this because I serve His Highness Herace.”

He had failed.

Raising his head, Ethan looked around to see the attendants assisting Bliss also nodding in agreement.

Ethan protested, his face a picture of genuine bewilderment.

“I know I’m handsome, but His Royal Highness Devon Green is flamboyant and beautiful, isn’t he? Why are you comparing me to him?”

A brief silence settled.

Then, the attendants uniformly bustled about, resuming their duties.

“I’ll attach the decorations.”

“No, wait…”

“For the waist cover belt, which of these two should we use? Perhaps the diamond snowflake design, fitting the theme, would be best…”

Finding it awkward to ask personal questions of the now busy attendants, Ethan’s head naturally turned.

“…Bliss?”

Bliss, subtly evading Ethan’s gaze—a gaze that posed a difficult question, implicitly asking if he, at least, wasn’t busy—expressed his gratitude with a nod to the attendant who, at that opportune moment, opened a box filled with various jewels and ornaments, then seriously examined them.

“I’ll choose the sword design.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed.

****

“Colonel Bliss Moore, Esper of Antares, and Guide Ethan Prescott, entering!”

As the two entered, announced by their unit, rank, and roles as Esper and Guide, all eyes in the banquet hall turned to them.

While considerable attention was directed at Bliss Moore, renowned for his beauty and aloofness, the more intense gazes lingered on Ethan Prescott, who was rumored to have only briefly appeared at an internal Cloud family banquet.

“Hahaha. By appearance alone, one might even believe he’s an Esper.”

“What a mysterious look. Perhaps because he’s smaller than His Royal Highness Devon, he appears even more androgynous.”

“Who could have designed that outfit? It’s a style I’ve never seen before; I imagine it would be beautiful even as a dress.”

Among those captivated by his attire and appearance, a different sentiment arose.

“He hardly feels like a Guide at all…”

“Is he truly a formidable Guide?”

These were the doubts cast by the Espers among the nobility.

Bliss’s hand, resting on Ethan’s shoulder, tightened perceptibly.

Ethan, who had shown a slightly weary expression under the sudden deluge of attention, subtly smiled at Bliss.

“It’s alright, Bliss. I’m observing them too. Though I only have two eyes, so I’m taking my time.”

Bliss, who had appeared on the verge of snapping at the murmuring crowd, ultimately let out a wry chuckle at Ethan’s witty response and gently guided him forward.

They exchanged silent greetings with Enoch, who had arrived earlier, as they walked casually.

“I knew you wouldn’t be nervous, but it seems I’m the one being helped. Let’s go pay our respects to His Highness Herace, the host of the banquet.”

Herace suppressed a laugh as he watched Bliss and Ethan approach him with composure, despite dragging along the blatant stares of the crowd.

“Welcome, Lord Bliss Moore.”

“Greetings, Your Royal Highness, the First Prince Herace. Is the Princess Consort not in attendance today?”

Herace glanced affectionately at the empty seat beside him and nodded.

“Ah, she has only recently conceived, so it’s best for her to be careful.”

“I see.”

After this casual exchange, Herace’s gaze shifted to Ethan. Ethan bowed his head in greeting.

“Greetings, Your Royal Highness, the First Prince Herace. I am Ethan Prescott, Guide to Lord Bliss Moore, Esper of House Moore.”

Herace’s eyes widened slightly.

“Didn’t they say you were a commoner?”

In response to the surprised question, Bliss gave a perfunctory nod.

“He says so himself.”

“…I don’t know much due to my amnesia, but I believe I am a commoner.”

At Ethan’s desperate excuse, Herace burst into hearty laughter.

“Haha. I’ve heard the story. You were found by the lake at Bliss’s villa, I believe. Personally, I wanted to thank you for appearing as my friend’s Guide. However, for you, Ethan, becoming Bliss’s Guide might not be such a fortunate turn.”

At Herace’s words, one of Bliss’s eyebrows, which had previously held no expression, twitched upward, reflecting his displeasure.

“Not at all. I am quite satisfied.”

Having finally provoked a small reaction from Bliss, Herace grinned.

“Marchioness Annabelle Moore is thoroughly displeased, so you’d best be careful.”

As Ethan, oblivious, wore a puzzled expression, Herace, as if this were the crux of the matter, pointed at Bliss and subtly whispered in a low voice, ensuring they wouldn’t be overheard.

“The room you two are occupying was originally Marchioness Annabelle Moore’s preferred chamber whenever banquets were held in Aria Hall, a place where she vicariously enjoyed palace life. This time, however, Bliss Moore, who has never once done so before, snatched it away.”

“Though we assigned the Marchioness another room, it likely won’t satisfy her. Ethan, did you perhaps compliment that splendid room?”

Ethan’s face drained of color.

He had already exchanged harsh words with Marchioness Annabelle Moore once before, but there was no need to deliberately provoke her further.

He cast a resentful look at Bliss, yet Bliss, with an impassive face, corrected Herace’s statement.

“It wasn’t snatched; I merely used the room originally allocated to the Marquis and Lord of Moore. Allowing my mother to continue using that room even after Father passed was merely a small courtesy.”

‘So this is what they meant by rooms being assigned for political reasons,’ Ethan realized.

He struggled to conceal his complex emotions. If a mere room could ignite such a power struggle, then the appearance of a highly compatible Guide for Bliss Moore—who was treated as a ticking time bomb and rarely showed his face in high society—made him dread imagining what other events might unfold.

“Let’s sit for a moment.”

Hearing a whispered word from an attendant, Herace gestured to the table set before him, offering food.

“…What is it?”

Bliss asked in a lowered voice, questioning Herace’s sudden, unscripted action between them, whereupon Herace gestured towards the entrance with his eyes.

“…He’s wearing white.”

At the soft utterance, Ethan also turned his head.

Prince Devon Green, accompanied by Huey Cloud, was confidently making his entrance, having clearly heard their names announced.

Bliss, never having seen the white hanbok Ethan wore when he first arrived, looked at Devon’s attire and then at Ethan, as if asking if it was similar to his. Ethan shook his head.

“With its gold leaf and embroidery on white, it truly looks like royal banquet attire.”

Herace murmured. Ethan deeply agreed.

“It’s splendid.”

It was a hanbok, white with all manner of embellishments, truly fit for a king. In any case, it was more than enough to evoke royalty in anyone’s mind and, worn by a multi-Guide, to make the phrase ‘Han Dynasty’ flash through the attendees’ thoughts. As if to prove it, the murmuring crowd watching them steadily grew.

Herace narrowed his eyes as he watched them approach.

“If they wanted to fuel rumors, they should have spent more time in the hall. The fact that they’re coming straight here suggests they know I’m about to bestow a title upon Ethan Prescott.”

Ethan offered an awkward smile. Devon Green had intended to evoke the Han Dynasty, the strongest multi-Guide in history, with his banquet attire. However, Ethan, choosing not to wear such an outfit, was instead to receive a title from First Prince Herace. This was Enoch Cloud’s idea, who had burst in, excited that it could be an even more powerful move.

The title, signifying the greatest Guide, currently belonged not to Devon Green, but to Rosalyn Green, the perfect Princess Consort, who was matched with First Prince Herace, an S-grade Esper, with a compatibility rate of over 70%. This title could be directly passed on by its current holder to a powerful Guide deemed acceptable by the majority.

While there were other powerful Guides, the title was merely a beautiful, empty shell. However, because this shell symbolized the greatest Guide, people naturally thought of the titleholder first when contemplating the empire’s best Guides, and then others.

The story of Rosalyn, the greatest Guide with this title, and First Prince Herace was already widely known among many nobles, framed as a romance of the century. Thus, Rosalyn willingly relinquished the title for her husband’s victory. Yet, Ethan truly did not wish to receive it.

“…Your Highness, that title is far too undeserving of me…”

Just as Bliss and Herace were suppressing their laughter at Ethan’s clearly displeased face, muttering about being undeserving, a gentle voice offered a greeting.

“Greetings, Your Royal Highness, the First Prince Herace. Seeing commoners and nobles mingling in their own ways, it seems tonight’s banquet is a success.”

“Devon, you look truly magnificent tonight. One might mistake you for a king.”

“Haha, that’s not it. This attire is a modern reinterpretation of what the Han Dynasty royalty, a powerful object of longing for Guides, once wore. Since I wore white for its significance, who else but royalty like myself could wear it? Even if other nobles were to commission Han Dynasty clothing as banquet attire, white would have nowhere to go unless I, true royalty, wore it.”

Ethan tried his best to maintain an indifferent expression. Devon’s words implied that he had chosen white precisely to preempt them from creating a modified hanbok in that color. Despite hearing such a pointed remark, Bliss and Herace remained unfazed. With an unreadable expression, Bliss gestured to an attendant, then smoothly curved his lips into a smile at Devon.

“It seems Rosalyn considers Ethan Prescott the greatest Guide. I suppose it’s even more so because she knows Bliss.”

“Indeed, the Princess Consort is wise. To have such faith in a Guide with nothing proven, and to so easily consider passing on the title.”

“Ah, my wife is indeed wise. Therefore, I wish to proceed with bestowing the title.”

Amidst the rampant sarcasm, Herace abruptly cut to the chase. However, Devon conceded more easily than expected.

“As you wish. I, too, prefer not to be interrupted during important moments.”

“…You’d do well to remember those words in the future.”

Though he uttered the words with a hint of suspicion, Herace had already taken a glass of champagne from an attendant who approached, offered drinks to Bliss and Ethan, then raised his own glass and rose from the dais where he had been seated. All eyes instantly converged.

“A toast to Colonel Bliss Moore, commander of Antares, the Empire’s elite Esper unit, and to Ethan Prescott, the Guide who rescued him from the abyss. Furthermore, my wife, who cannot be with us tonight, wishes to extend a heartfelt welcome to Ethan Prescott with a meaningful gift. Ethan Prescott, on behalf of my wife, Rosalyn Green, I bestow upon you the title ‘Flower of the Empire.'”

“…!!”

Oh, damn it. ‘Flower of the Empire’? No matter that it symbolized the winter orchid, the multi-Guide of the Han Dynasty, it was a title that made his toes curl. Just as Ethan, with a tearful expression, prepared to offer his thanks with proper etiquette, a sound echoed.

Uh, ahh…

Every Esper and Guide present simultaneously turned their heads in one direction. A man who had dropped his wine glass was gasping for air, writhing. Bloodshot eyes, strange, branch-like patterns spread across his skin.

*Crash!* *Shatter!* *Clang!*

The tables laden with food and the elegant arched glass windows behind them exploded in a domino effect.

It was the beginning of a rampage.