Chapter 3.The Fall Banquet

Aria’s debutante ball arrived on the day of the Autumn Banquet. This was her first appearance at a banquet since entering this unfamiliar world, and she understandably felt nervous.

“Princess, your shoulders are tense,” one of the maids observed.

“Indeed, allow me to give you a brief massage. It’s your first banquet, and it’s natural to be nervous,” another maid added with a reassuring smile. They gently massaged Aria’s shoulders, providing some relief to her initially tense posture.

Contrary to her expectations, the process of tightening her corset, which she expected to be difficult, turned out to be surprisingly simple. It appeared that the corset had fallen out of fashion. Additionally, the makeup she applied was lighter than she had imagined, deviating from the heavy makeup often described in fiction.

“Good,” Aria thought, relieved at the simplicity of the preparations.

As the evening approached, she found herself contemplating, “I didn’t know it would be this easy.”

Aria heaved a sigh of relief and slid her feet back into her shoes. While she had successfully avoided the makeup and corset, she had failed to avoid the shoes. She winced as her toes were compressed.

Even before being possessed, she seldom wore shoes. This made the experience of walking in them unfamiliar and uncomfortable. As she took a few steps, her lack of familiarity with footwear became evident, causing her to stagger.

“Ah…” Aria stumbled, desperately reaching out to grasp the wall for support.

“I see you’re not used to shoes,” he said, recognizing her discomfort, and Aria nodded in agreement, still adjusting to the strange sensation.

His attire was stunning, magnificent in the brilliant hues befitting an emperor, and truly striking. Despite his failure in the battle for the throne, he had achieved numerous victories in war, as seen by the stunning collection of medals covering his chest.

“I’m afraid you might sprain your ankle, so I’ll have to accompany you,” Caelius remarked, wearing a mischievous grin as he extended his hand in a manner reminiscent of a nobleman requesting an escort. Aria, almost captivated, found herself clasping his hand without saying a word.

“If you find it too uncomfortable, do let me know. We can move to the terrace for a while,” Caelius suggested.

“Yes, thank you,” Aria responded, appreciative of the offer.

She nodded and smiled shyly, expressing gratitude for the gesture. She ascended gently into a luxurious archduke’s carriage, which, even for a banquet, emanated an extra level of richness.

Many eyes watched the carriage as it left the mansion on its way to the palace. Observers, mostly commoners on the streets, threw a variety of glances at the carriage. Some looked on with admiration, others were jealous, and a few were outright jealous.

Aria had a strange sensation.

‘I feel like a king…’ she pondered, reflecting on the oddity of the attention and the regal atmosphere that surrounded her.

I clenched my teeth and fixed my attention out of the window, captivated by the unfamiliar sights. It stood in stark contrast to the luxurious shopping district. Aria, too, looked out, briefly forgetting that Caelius was sitting in front of her.

Caelius could only maintain a chilly expression while observing her, his gaze locked on her with an incomprehensible behavior.

* **

The chamberlain’s declaration, “His Highness Caelius von Wittelsbach enters!” echoed across the ballroom, highlighting the Imperials’ royal status. The formerly lively room was silent in an instant. Every eye was drawn to the banquet hall’s entrance, and soon, the grand golden doors swung open.

Caelius appeared, accompanied by a young girl on his left arm, contrary to the nobles’ expectations, who expected Caelius to arrive alone. The nobles observed Aria with a murmur that went over the assembly.

“Who is that child?”

“I don’t recall seeing her before.”

“The color of her hair…”

“Those golden eyes…” The nobles exchanged whispers, captivated and perplexed by the young girl’s surprising presence with Caelius.

Aria’s ears were filled with the sound of their collective bowing. Caelius’s daughter. She had expected a reaction, but the size far exceeded her wildest expectations.

Aria tensed as the attention on her got more intense and overwhelming. Caelius smiled and hugged her in a protective embrace, rubbing her on the back.

“Daughter, are you uncomfortable?”

“I’m just a little overwhelmed,” Aria admitted, feeling the weight of so many eyes on her. In her hunt for peace, she couldn’t help but look up to Caelius. Their gazes locked, and he smiled reassuringly.

“It’s okay; they’re just a bunch of nobles,” Caelius said as his hand slipped around Aria’s waist, providing confidence amid the scrutiny.

“If anyone mistakes a fountain for something else, I’ll personally douse them in champagne,” he said with a sincerity that contradicted normal conversation. Caelius said, “Don’t worry, no matter what happens, I’ll handle the aftermath,” his tone suddenly displaying a real care for Aria’s well-being. Aria responded with a tiny nod.

“I’m not easily fooled,” she reflected on her old self, a social expert with Caelius at her side. Caelius reprimanded anybody she disliked in the past, and those who dared to insult her met immediate and severe consequences without her batting an eye.

The original Aria, raised under Caelius’ influence, became accustomed to the power that he wielded. Even though the authority was indisputably his, not hers, she handled it as if it were her natural right.

Caelius had gently guided her into this dynamic, establishing a sense of dependence. She hadn’t realized what he was up to; instead, she believed that her father’s devotion translated into unwavering cooperation with her wishes.

“Daughter, would you honor me with the first dance?” Caelius smiled as he directed his eyes toward the center of the ballroom, where the golden chandeliers shed a brilliant glow upon him.

Despite the alteration in his appearance—now devoid of blond hair and golden eyes—Caelius seamlessly assimilated into the palace surroundings without a hint of discomfort. Observing the customary bow, he gently kissed the back of Aria’s hand and extended his hand affectionately.

“Would you care to dance, Lady Aria?” he proposed with a chuckle. Aria, puzzled, stared at him momentarily before accepting his hand. Her thoughts raced.

“Where does Caelius begin, and where does he end? I don’t know, truly don’t…” she contemplated, grappling with the enigma of his intentions. His countenance lacked a smile, his gestures seemed devoid of genuine care, and Aria questioned whether there was any sincerity in his actions.

As they made their way into the ballroom, Aria’s mind continued to race, plagued by uncertainty amid the swirling dance floor.

A gentle waltz enveloped them, and fortunately, the dance proved to be not too challenging. Aria could stumble a bit without feeling entirely out of place beside Caelius.

“You’re wearing a solemn expression,” he remarked.

“Oh, my apologies.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, but it is your first banquet, isn’t it? I only asked because you don’t appear to have any expectations,” he said. Aria didn’t lack expectations; rather, she lacked the energy to enjoy the celebrations. Aria faked a smile in an attempt to hide her nervousness.

“No, I’m just a little nervous.” Unlike the original Aria, who would have been astonished and thrilled by the richness of the palace banquet, Aria’s mood mimicked that of a sluggish kitten, her shoulders slumped in stark contrast to the vibrant surroundings.

When the long waltz ended and she and Caelius stepped down from the hall, numerous nobles approached them one by one.

The words, “Greetings, Archduke Caelius von Wittelsbach, the loyal sword of the Empire,” poured from their lips.

Unspoken questions lingered: “Who is the lady by your side?” The perceptive nobles appraised Caelius’ manner and inquired about Aria, as expected. In response, he smiled gracefully and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“My beloved daughter,” he said, softly sliding his hands over her golden locks as if emphasizing her connection to royal authority.

The atmosphere in the banquet hall immediately changed, with a noticeable change vibrating through the assembled nobility.

It sounded like a loud thunderclap. Another member of the royal family, distinct from the present Emperor’s bloodline, now wielded the power that Caelius formerly held.

Internally, the women who had been intimately involved with Caelius and were now standing alone after his divorce revealed a lack of control over their expressions.

A scene similar to the original played out in the ballroom. The nobility remained intrigued by Aria, pushing her to maintain a look as if she were the ballroom’s entertainment, despite her clouded face. Weariness washed across her.

“If it pleases you, my lord, may I request a dance?” A hand suddenly stretched in front of her.

“Ah, exhausted,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.

Her face distorted into a confused frown, and she held even harder to Caelius’ arm.

“Ah, I am Leon Berja, eldest son of the Marquis de Berja. Please forgive me for momentarily being captivated by your beauty, neglecting my first greeting, and failing to request a dance.”

‘Marquis of Berja, Leon Berja.’

Aria’s eyes widened when she heard the name.

‘Leon Berja, the traitor who will undoubtedly betray Caelius in the future… and reveal his treachery,’ she concluded quietly, a terrible understanding casting a shadow over her face.

A panicked expression came across her dazzling golden eyes, which she attempted to hide. He was only a marquis at the moment, but the future held the inheritance of the Marquisate of Verha and an unavoidable betrayal of Caelius.

The reality hit her that without him, both the original Aria and Caelius would have avoided the guillotine. An instinctive aversion welled up within her, deeming the outstretched hand and smiling face in front of her an abomination.

When Aria remained mute, Leon Berja asked again, “Princess?” However, she continued to stare at his hand, as if perplexed.

“I’m sorry, but my father promised me that he would show me the palace gardens first, so I don’t think I’ll be able to dance with you,” she said, snatching an opportunity to avoid further engagement with the looming figure of betrayal in front of her.

A deep, resonant bass voice cut in from behind—Caelius.

“My daughter is new to the palace, and there’s a lot for me to show her. I hope you understand,” Caelius said, without a smile. The harsh expression he displayed was a dramatic contrast to Aria’s customary smirk.

Leon was speechless when Caelius stepped in between them. Aria was saved from having to dance in the towering presence of Leon thanks to Caelius’ intervention. Instead, she found herself alone in the palace gardens with him.

“Ew, awkward,” Aria muttered, her frown revealing the difficulty of maintaining a feigned smile. Caelius glanced back at her.

“Daughter.”

“Yes…, Dad.”

“If you’re uncomfortable, you can show it.”

“It’s…?” Aria asked, her response tinged with uncertainty.

He moved towards her, stopping directly in front of her and bending to meet her eye level. As his chiseled face loomed before her, Aria swallowed hard, panic gripping her.

“You don’t have to act all flustered like that,” he said, and Aria fell silent, the weight of his presence leaving her speechless.

“Aria, you are my one and only daughter, and no one can force you to do anything, and I don’t intend to live to see it,” he expressed, each word tinged with genuine concern. Aria bit down forcefully on the delicate flesh inside her mouth; it was a necessary act to maintain control over her expression.

“Lying. You don’t even see me as your daughter; how can you say this without batting an eye?” she mumbled to herself, her lips bearing the brunt of her agitation. Caelius then gently pushed his hand across her mouth, asking her to stop. Her bare feet throbbed, and her legs trembled.

Caelius, sensing her anguish like a ghost, said, “Are your shoes bothering you?”

Aria responded to his inquiry with a tiny nod. Caelius quietly chuckled and kneeled in front of her.

“Let me help you up.”

“Oh, Daddy, you don’t have to!” she exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch, astounded by the speed of her reaction. Aria looked around, startled by her shout. Fortunately, she and Caelius were the only ones in the garden.

“After all, the imperial gardens are off-limits to everyone. Caelius reassured her that everything was OK and persuaded her to get up.

“I want to show my daughter the Imperial Gardens.”

“Well, let’s walk and see it together.”

“But your feet hurt.”

Even though Aria’s feet were throbbing, she felt it was best to walk rather than be carried by him. She looked at him, unsure what to do.

“Lily, Dad, it’s hard.”

Caelius jokingly referred to her as “Lily” until she couldn’t take it any longer and gingerly climbed onto his back.

Caelius effortlessly lifted her, as light as a sheet of paper, and rose to his feet, holding Aria’s shoe gently in his hand. Aria couldn’t believe her eyes—she was now on his back. The scene had a certain comical quality to it.

“I’m embarrassed,” she admitted, feeling a mix of reluctance and curiosity. Aria’s breath lightly brushed the nape of Caelius’ neck, an unintentional proximity that set her heart racing uncontrollably. Her posture shifted, instinctively burying her face in his shoulder and nape.

Whether or not he realized her discomfort, Caelius chuckled softly, seemingly amused, and began to share details about the palace gardens.

“When I was younger, I used to play here without my teacher knowing…” Caelius shared a rare glimpse into his childhood. However, Aria, tense and uneasy, could barely register his words.

While Aria found herself uncomfortable, Caelius appeared to be thoroughly enjoying himself. Yet, there was no way to discern whether his enjoyment was genuine. He continued to smile and narrate stories from his time as a crown prince. Aria, despite being in a picturesque setting, found herself in an unusual mood.

‘You look like you’re having fun…’

Caelius appeared genuinely excited, as if recounting his childhood to a beloved daughter.

‘But you’re not. You’re not having fun at all.’ Aria couldn’t shake the realization that his joy might be a facade.

The inconsistency puzzled her. Why would she go to such lengths—sharing stories of her childhood as if she were having fun and carrying her like a doting father when she wasn’t? It was all incomprehensible, leaving a sickening feeling in her stomach. When Aria’s response was tepid, Caelius halted his storytelling and fixed his gaze on her.

“Daughter, are you not having fun?” he inquired with genuine concern. Aria, feeling embarrassed, stammered as her mind raced for an excuse.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry. I’m just a little upset.”

“It’s your first banquet; you’re nervous,” he reassured, attributing her discomfort to the overwhelming nature of the occasion.

Gently, Caelius guided her to a bench bathed in the soft moonlight.

“Shall we rest for a while?” he suggested.

Aria, feeling drained, shook her head. Caelius carefully lowered her onto the bench, and unexpectedly, he squeezed her hand. Aria flinched in surprise, but Caelius didn’t seem to mind at all, applying gentle pressure between her thumb and forefinger.

“This is a good place to press when you’re nervous,” he shared, smiling in the moonlight with his jet-black eyes gleaming. Aria looked at him blankly and mumbled to herself.

“Does my dad ever get nervous too?” she pondered aloud, seeking a glimpse into the vulnerability of the man beside her.

Glancing over at him, feeling a bit awkward for asking, Aria was surprised when Caelius responded with a smile as if her question were the most natural thing in the world.

“Of course,” he assured her.

Aria couldn’t help but wonder if he truly meant it. She idly drummed her fingers.

“I didn’t think you’d ever been nervous or anything,” she admitted. Aria found it hard to imagine Caelius, who had been navigating battlefields from a young age without hesitation to kill, ever experiencing nervousness.

Caelius gazed at her, his face still radiant with a smile.

“I wonder why you thought that.”

“It Just…….”

“I’m human,” Caelius clarified.

Blinking her golden lashes, Aria looked up at him thoughtfully. Eyes that didn’t quite resemble a typical father-daughter connection met each other.

“Dad.”

“Yeah.”

Aria pursed her lips, carefully choosing her words. She considered the typical scenes from parenting shows where daughters might express something in situations like this. As she reflected on her memories, she figured if she had to say something, she would probably just blurt it out.

“You know, Dad, I want… to live with my dad for a long, long time,” she expressed, her gaze shifting to Caelius, who appeared somewhat sheepish. She then focused on his hand, marked by scars accumulated over years of wielding a sword.

“I don’t want you to do something as dangerous as war… ever again,” she added, an unspoken plea echoing in her mind. “Don’t rebel. Please don’t.”

Aria swallowed nervously, concealing her true intentions. Caelius looked momentarily puzzled before bursting into hearty laughter.

“You’re worrying for nothing.”

No, not at all. It’s a very valid concern.

“Aria, I suggest you think again about who your father is.”

The way he looked at her as he said it, his eyes were almost warning.

“Caelius von Wiern.”

And there was a hint of arrogance in the way he brought up the name from the past. She could feel his persistence and how much he still craved Biern.

“…should have been master of this land,” Caelius remarked, sending a shiver down Aria’s spine as she understood the implication. Yet she didn’t betray her emotions. Instead, she chewed on the thin flesh in her mouth and stared at him innocently, as if oblivious to the underlying meaning.

“I like you so much, Dad,” she responded a silent plea echoing in her mind. “So, for God’s sake, can’t you just be like all the other fictional daughter idiots and leave the treason stuff behind?”

As if to mock her inner turmoil, Caelius replied, “I like my daughter best, too.” A blatant lie. Despite being aware of the lies, Aria found herself compelled to respond, forcing the corners of her lips to rise.

“I believe you, Dad,” she said, concealing the complexity of her emotions beneath a practiced facade.

* * *

Caelius reached for a little vial as he sat back on the couch in his office. He removed the cap and dumped the contents into his palm. He glared, running his fingers through his hair in frustration, as he swallowed several tablets without water. A trusted assistant approached him.

“Your Highness.”

Impatiently, Caelius shifted his gaze towards the voice.

“We’ve gathered quite a bit of information on the princess.”

A heavy stack of papers was delivered to him by his assistant. Caelius sat up abruptly, straightened, and took the papers. He then spoke with a sharp admonition.

A low voice resonated in the room: “Damn Aeryn, how did she raise her child to be in this condition at her age?” Caelius turned to face Aria, his face carved with irritation, a dramatic contrast to the doting father act he had been putting on. His tone was severe and critical, in contrast to the one he kept with Aria, yet the assistant spoke with familiarity.

“He’s been kept in a room at the end of the Marquis’s mansion, almost as a prisoner. No one knows of her existence except for the few who use it.”

Caelius crinkled his brow, dropping the papers he’d been holding as he pressed his temples against a throbbing headache.

“So much for pedigree.”

Caelius muttered and turned his head toward a portrait of himself, once a crown prince, standing majestically. The vibrant uniform, the ageless eyes and hair—it all seemed so different now, particularly the blond hair, which used to shine like the sun.

“Still, it’s better to be an idiot than clever, isn’t it?” the assistant offered softly as if attempting to soothe him. Caelius nodded in agreement.

“Yes, you are right.”

He considered the consequences: if she had been a cunning foe, he might have taken more serious actions. Swallowing his unspoken thoughts, he retrieved and took a psychedelic from his inner pocket. The assistant promptly lit it for him, resembling a cigarette.

As it began to burn, the hallucinogen emitted a noxious odor, accompanied by whitish smoke.

“It’s just as well, because you’ve never been properly loved, so maybe a few good laughs from your highness will make you fall for it,” the assistant added, despite the lack of a direct subject. Caelius grinned.

“[You know,Dad, I want to live with you for a long time],” she said, imitating Aria’s words from the imperial garden. The unexpected recall of her words provoked a response.

“A long life together.”

“Yes, we should live together for a long time; you’re the doll who can make me Emperor again,” Caelius stated, his words tinged with unease.