...Mr. Frondier.

After Sale and Aten's entrance, the hall once again filled with the sound of conversations.

The two princesses showed themselves to the other nobles and promising young talents, exchanging greetings and demonstrating their exemplary manners as members of the Imperial family.

This was both a duty and a necessity for the princesses, who had relatively limited opportunities to interact with other nobles.

After greeting several nobles, Aten naturally arrived in front of Frondier. At least, that's what she believed.

Greetings, Your Highness Aten Terst.

Frondier bowed deeply. He had initially considered kneeling, but as none of the other nobles did so, he opted for a simple bow.

If Aten had approached him first, he might have been embarrassed.

Hmm. So you call me that, after all.

Aten said with a hint of disappointment. Since he wasn't in Constel, Frondier had to show Aten due respect. Naturally, using casual titles or speech was out of the question.

Of course, Aten understood this and couldn't complain, but it was still disappointing.

Understanding her feelings, Frondier smiled and said,

It's difficult for me as well, Your Highness.

The most Frondier could convey. That alone seemed to satisfy Aten, as her expression softened.

As the two met, the surrounding gazes naturally gathered. Of course, Aten's every move attracted attention, but the combination of the two was bound to draw everyone's eyes.

Aten, bathed in light and radiating brilliance, and Frondier, seemingly enveloped in shadows and carrying a different weight. Their proximity alone created a captivating scene.

...Ah, Mr. Frondier, have you heard about that?

What do you mean, Your Highness?

You know, marriage.

Yes, marriage.

The bride wears a dress, and the groom wears a suit, and they meet.

...Ah, yes. That's right.

As Frondier nodded plainly, Aten stared blankly for a moment.

Soon, both of their heads tilted in unison.

...That wasn't what I meant.

Indeed.

Their conversation wasn't as elegant as it appeared.

Doong-

The lights dimmed once again.

This time, everyone knew what was coming next.

Her Highness, Philly Terst, and His Majesty, Bartello Terst, will now enter!

The same gentleman announced in a louder, more solemn and formal tone.

This time, everyone in the hall except for Aten and Sale knelt on one knee. Frondier quickly followed suit.

I see. So we only kneel for the Empress and the Emperor. I'll remember that.

Philly often appeared before the people, but Bartello did not.

Having the opportunity to see the Emperor after a long time, everyone in the hall awaited his appearance with anticipation.

And a moment later,

Bartello, supported by Philly and a servant, slowly revealed himself.

.

A heavy silence fell upon the hall. The sight of Philly diligently supporting Bartello, who could barely stand, and helping him to his seat. Even though it wasn't a short amount of time, no one dared to make a sound.

Was that truly Bartello?

The symbol of the Empire, the one who stood at the pinnacle of all power, how could Bartello have become

Ah, ahem.

Bartello remained silent after being seated, and instead, Philly spoke in her characteristically cheerful voice.

Well then, what a wonderful day! I won't keep the greetings long! Let's enjoy the banquet! The introductions of the key players in the joint operation will be postponed for a moment!

Philly's words aimed to lighten the mood, and those who understood her intentions diligently clapped and cheered.

Meanwhile, Frondier looked at Aten. He was curious if she had been aware of Bartello's condition.

And Aten's expression spoke volumes.

.

Aten, who had been radiating a bright light, now had a hardened expression, emanating a chilling coldness. She was in greater shock than anyone else present.

She had been completely unaware of Bartello's physical state. Whether knowing would have changed anything or allowed her to see Bartello sooner was uncertain, but

The current Bartello was far too different from the one Aten remembered.

...It's unfortunate for Aten, but

Frondier felt a slight sense of relief. As he recalled, Bartello's energy had indeed declined significantly, but he wasn't at death's door just yet.

He couldn't rejoice at the sight of his friend's father in a weakened state, but in that condition, Bartello wouldn't likely pay any attention to Frondier.

If the event ended like this, Frondier could simply leave as he had come,

Frondier de Roach.

A heavy voice tore through the air, shattering the atmosphere of the banquet that had just begun to recover.

The Emperor's deeply somber voice, carried by his aura, flowed throughout the hall.

The barely rekindled atmosphere plummeted as if thrown to the ground, and the hall was instantly filled with tension.

Bartello's voice.

A powerful voice, unbelievable for its age, resonated within the Imperial Palace.

Is Frondier de Roach present?

The Emperor's voice rang out once more. Azier and Enfer's expressions hardened.

Step forward to the center. Come and show me your face.

A direct command from the Emperor to a mere individual. Refusal, let alone hesitation, was not permitted.

Frondier, in accordance with his hair, his eyes, his attire,

With all his presence cloaked in darkness, took a step forward.