TFM 3

Chapter 3

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Her siblings had not yet arrived. Gareth, the Crown Prince of the empire and her half-sister, always stood like a king in the center of the banquet hall, or on the second floor table overlooking the hall.

And Ayla had never been more graceful and elegant than when she stood by his side.

'But tonight, I fear we will not see Ayla Roem Guirta.'

Talia chuckled softly as she picked up a silver goblet from the small round table.

A cruel satisfaction bloomed in her chest as she remembered the image of Ayla collapsing blue-faced in the middle of the ballroom not long ago. The way she'd spilled the wine on the marble floor, it had looked like she'd poured out her heart.

If only she could make it happen.

Talia scratched the surface of the goblet with the tips of her sharp nails, making a hissing sound.

She didn’t know how many times she looked at her half-sister convulsing on the floor and prayed to herself.

Just stay dead, Ayla. Please, don't ever open your eyes again.

"Your Highness."

Talia, deep in her dark thoughts, turned her head at the sound of a voice nearby.

A man, immaculately dressed in a dark green gown, stood erect, one hand over his heart. His face was familiar.

It took her a moment to remember that he was a frequent guest at her mother's banquets.

She couldn't remember his name. She could only vaguely recall that her mother had called him Count Serian.

"It's been a long time since I've seen you, Your Highness, and you're growing more beautiful with each passing day.”

As he gazed down at her with admiration, he bent down and kissed the back of her hand. A wave of discomfort washed over her, as if a damp caterpillar had touched her. But Talia forced a smile.

"Did my mother ask you to be my partner?"

"The Empress is always concerned about the princess."

The man nodded affirmatively.

"But even if it weren't for the Empress’s request, I wouldn't have been able to resist speaking to you. Take a look around."

He whispered in her ear as if he were sharing a great secret.

"Every man in this room is looking at you, and they, like me, want to run up to you and kiss those beautiful hands and shower you with fervent praise, but they are trying hard to suppress their desires. They don’t want to get into the Crown Prince’s bad graces.”

"And you don't?"

"I earned my hatred a long time ago."

He smiled slyly.

"Which is why, tonight, I've been assigned the task of assisting Your Highness, so it's a blessing in disguise.”

Talia didn't like men who paid more attention to her than was necessary. No. She was on the axis of loathing.

But it was better to have some sort of shield than to endure hundreds of pairs of piercing eyes alone.

Talia accepted her escort like it was a red line.

"What did mother say, did she ask you to bail out her poor eldest daughter, who's being turned out like a black sheep?"

"The empress ordered me to help the princess enjoy the banquet to the fullest."

Talia stifled a snort that threatened to burst out.

The man led her toward the stage set up in front of the balcony.

"And she instructed me to do my best to make sure you look better than anyone else in the ballroom."

Those who had been dancing to the tune of the lute and organ shuffled back and gave her cold glares. But the Count was unperturbed, and bowed to her.

"Would Your Highness please grant me the honor of dancing with you?"

Talia looked down at his callus-less hands with reluctance.

She had no desire to make contact with a man she barely knew. But the sharp stares and chattering voices of the people revolted her.

They were probably hoping she would disappear from this place. Or perhaps they wanted her to stay quiet, like in a corner, like she was not there.

But she wouldn’t.

Talia took the man's hand, and as if waiting for her, he slipped his arm around her waist and began to lead her deftly across the stage.

Even Talia, who had an intense aversion to human contact, could not help but be impressed by the man's dancing ability. Count Serian was skillfully executing perfect movements in time to the melody and for flattering his opponent in subtle ways.

Talia had always loved to dance, but she had never felt so graceful in her movements as she did at this moment, and it seemed she wasn't the only one who felt that way.

She glanced over the Count's shoulder as he skillfully spun her around. She could see hundreds of pairs of eyes following her movements, moving in unison. All eyes were on the imperial bastard they had so disdained.

Talia felt a surge of exhilaration. In the past, when she showed up at official functions, people would pretend not to notice her and watch her every move. But that was just an expression of contempt and wariness.

But this time it was different: they were looking at her the way they looked at her mother. She could feel the fear and fascination in their eyes twisting around her like tangled threads.

She felt like Senevere. The most powerful, dangerous, and beautiful being in the world.

But the sweet triumph was short-lived. Suddenly, the music cut out, and the real stars of the banquet appeared.

"Enter the great Crown Prince of the Empire, His Royal Highness Gareth Roem Guirta, and Her Royal Highness Ayla Roem Guirta, First Princess of the Empire!"

With the chamberlain's thunderous shout, the two imperials strode gracefully through the ballroom's entrance and down the marble staircase, and Talia was quickly pushed out of the limelight.

Count Serian smiled bitterly and led her toward the terrace where wine and food had been set out.

"I'm sorry to have to interrupt your fun."

The Count spoke in a raspy voice, as if trying to break her stony expression, but not a word fell on deaf ears.

Talia stared at Ayla in her pristine white dress with burning eyes, seemingly oblivious to the scandalous way she'd behaved in public a few weeks ago.

Her stomach heated with anger at the sight of the pretty face smiling gracefully as she stood beside her brother.

Talia's intense gaze took in every detail of their dark hair, emerald eyes, and ivory-chiseled faces.

They oozed royalty and regality. It was something that Senevere and herself could not have, no matter how hard they tried.

Senevere was the viper that had dragged the young emperor, once hailed as the Holy Emperor, down into the mire of sordid affairs, and Talia was the filth from its belly. The fact that Senevere would go on to bear dozens of emperor's sons would never change that.

Talia glanced silently at her half-siblings, who were surrounded by the fervent attention of the crowd, then turned toward the table where the goblets of wine were set out. She noticed that the people who had been gazing at the First Princess and the Crown Prince with envy were now glancing at her, exchanging subtle glances.

Every nerve in her body tensed, and she wanted to claw out every one of their eyeballs.

Don't compare me to them.

She suppressed the urge to shout it, desperately feigning indifference, but the man beside her whispered in her ear without knowing her internal turmoil.

"Since the two seem intent on ignoring Your Highness's presence, what do you say, go and greet them first?"

She shot the man a venomous glare.

He tugged at the corners of his mouth in amusement.

"Isn't that what you came here for?"

Talia bit her lip.

He was right, she had come here to ruin her siblings’ mood, to create a terrible dissonance in the midst of their celebration, and Senevere would want that.

Finally composing herself, Talia gripped her goblet tightly and turned to face her half-siblings, then stepped proudly through the crowd.

Just then, Varkas Raedgo Shiokan appeared at the entrance to the ballroom.

Talia stopped all movement. Her heart pounded as if she had been ambushed.

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