The dinner was to be held in a grand, richly decorated room with high ceilings, ornate gold moldings, and tall windows draped with deep red curtains. The floor was covered in deep red carpets with intricate patterns. Gold detailing ran along the walls and furniture, and the long banquet table stretching down the center of the room was dressed in white linens, set with plates, and centerpieces. Gold-framed chairs with red upholstery lined both sides.

Large golden mirrors reflected the warm glow of elegant candelabras, and a marble fireplace with elaborate gold accents anchored one side of the room. Everything in the space whispered of old nobility and unquestioned royalty.

At one end of the table sat the Count, already in his seat. His posture was serious—composed at a glance—yet those who paid attention would see the tension in his shoulders and the faint tremble of his lips.

On his right side sat Caleus Nebula, with Veronica beside him. Standing behind Caleus was a soldier of the Nebula army, a grade 1 intermediate—not a Nebula Knight, but a soldier competent enough to earn a position at his back.

On the Count's left sat Lioren. At Lioren's side were two others with identical faces, both with black hair and dark eyes: Hioren and Vioren, the Dusk twins.

The Count's lips kept trembling as he tried to maintain his composure.

He was a noble. Since birth he had been taught the ways of nobility. And yet, seated with these people... no—

The Dusk Prince, Lioren. The Nebula Prince, Caleus. One wore an aloof, cold expression; the other sat with his eyes closed in a gentle smile. Yet their presence was undeniable. It was as if they were the ones who were truly royal. Perhaps it was something a royal was simply born with—that suffocating, crushing air around them. And that, despite the difference in their mana core ranks.

Then the door opened. A butler entered, bowing his head, and announced:

"They have arrived, my lord."

"Please, let them in. We mustn't keep them waiting," the Count replied.

His face shifted at once into a welcoming smile, as if a different man had taken his place. The butler left quickly and then returned, this time followed by Jasmine, Celestina, Azriel, Sir Felix, and Sir Henrik.

The Count spread his arms.

"Welcome. Please, sit wherever you feel comfortable."

Without even greeting the Count back, Azriel and Jasmine parted from Celestina. The siblings moved toward Lioren Dusk's side of the table, while Celestina took her place on Caleus Nebula's side.

Naturally, their knights followed. Felix stood behind them, positioned between Azriel and Jasmine, while Henrik stood behind Celestina. Both knights stood tall and alert.

Once everyone was seated, the first to speak was Jasmine. She let her gaze sweep the room before settling on the Count, her expression was a cold mask as she spoke in an icy tone:

"I see that we are the first ones here... or that the timings are different than we were told."

For some reason, the Count shivered. Lioren answered before he could.

"That was because of me. I requested that the Count invite all of us here half an hour earlier than the intended time for the others."

Lioren's expression was as cold as Jasmine's, but of a different kind. If Jasmine could be described as the emotionless, glaring ice queen, then Lioren was the distant, aloof type—someone who unintentionally sounded and looked even colder than he meant to.

"I do expect you have a proper excuse for taking up more of our time, Lioren?" Celestina asked coolly, her eyes serious.

The only one among the four heirs who didn't wear a serious expression was Caleus, who spoke next.

"That is something I'd also like to know," Caleus said in a light, almost chirpy voice.

Meanwhile, Azriel fought the urge for his whole body to twitch from annoyance under the dead stares he was receiving from Veronica, Vioren, and Hioren.

'Don't break rule number two... Don't break rule number two... Don't break rule number two...'

He kept repeating it in his mind.

"We—"

The Count tried to speak, but Lioren's voice cut cleanly over his. At this point, the Count's presence had been discarded by everyone at the table.

"It is because," Lioren said, "once the dinner starts with the other participants, they will not simply be 'participants' anymore, but representatives of their guild, their church, their clan. The government. I would rather not have it that when we discuss our plans to finally get out of this scenario, now that we are all gathered, that it is one of us who brings shame to the name of the four great clans—names our parents have kept from ever being tarnished."

His words drew every gaze to him. Even Caleus let his smile drop as he picked up a knife from the table and casually pointed it in Lioren's direction.

"Aren't you a bit too full of yourself?" Caleus asked, still in that light tone. "What gives you the right to summon us for such a trivial warning? Do not think you are our better, lecturing us as though we are children attending a formal dinner for the first time."

"But I am better. I am also older," Lioren replied, as if he were stating nothing more than simple facts.

That tone alone was enough to make the knife in Caleus's hand split cleanly in two.

"But it is not the current heirs I am talking about," Lioren added.

Amid the confusion, he lifted a hand and pointed straight at Veronica. She shifted uncomfortably and glared at him. Lioren then turned his head to his side, raising another finger to point at his younger brothers. Hioren and Vioren both huffed at the same time, clearly grinding their teeth.

Then Lioren dropped one finger and turned his gaze toward Azriel, who leaned back and crossed his arms, looking at him calmly.

"It is about the four of you," Lioren said.

"And it seems my assumption was correct, judging by how you look like undisciplined dogs, just waiting to bark at each other."

Hearing the unjustified insult hurled at him, Azriel had the urge to throw one of the plates—or perhaps the beautiful silver knife in front of him—straight at Lioren's face.

Instead, he chose to give a business like smile as he looked at Lioren.

"'Waiting to bark at each other'? I don't know what you're talking about, Lioren. I, for one, have no quarrel with anyone here."

In fact, if anyone was really, really annoying... then it was definitely Lioren at the top of that list.

Breathing the same air as that man irritated Azriel to no end.

Despite what Azriel said, the two idio— the two Dusk princes—couldn't hold back and both snickered.

"Of course you'd say that. You're too much of a pussy to bark," Hioren said, and Vioren instantly backed him up.

"Instead of barking, it's more like he's a whimpering dog left in the corner all the time."

"I heard that Anastasia will be joining us at dinner soon," Hioren added.

"Oh? Won't that mean we'll have two dogs at the table? One barking and one whimpering? How times have changed. To dine with us, it must be a treat for them."

The two of them snickered at their own jokes. Veronica, oddly enough, stayed quiet.

'...Ah, how many novels have I read with scenes like this? The typical young master tropes... There are a lot in the book where Lumine humbles them, impressing everyone with his righteousness. Maybe I can witness one today.'

It wasn't as if this was going to be the only opportunity...

As Azriel mulled over such trivial thoughts, he didn't notice how heavy the air had grown around the table: the Nebula soldier was trembling, the Count was pale as a ghost, and the butler and a few maids standing by had legs shaking so hard they could barely stand.

What Azriel did notice was that the temperature in the room was rising.

"Did you just dare insult the Crimson Clan right in front of me?"

Azriel only looked up when he heard his sister's voice. This time, it felt like it came straight out of the deepest abyss, as cold as the bottom of a lightless ocean.

Everyone turned toward her. Jasmine's face was as emotionless and cold as ever, yet the heat in the room made the contrast even more unsettling, only adding to how menacing she felt.

"W-What? No! We were just talking about hi—"

"Him?" Jasmine's gaze sharpened.

"The prince of the Crimson Clan? My little brother, who has just been insulted by you two in front of me, the heiress and representative of the Crimson Clan? Doing this in public, in front of the other representatives and heirs of the great clans—am I to understand this as the Dusk Clan having hostile intent toward our clan, and perhaps even declaring war?"

"Huh!? War between the Crimson and Dusk Clan? No, aren't you reaching way too far now!?" Vioren shouted, his face turning pale.

"I see. So the two of you aren't representing the Dusk Clan, I presume?" Jasmine asked, tone still icy.

"N-No, of course not!" Hioren said quickly, Vioren nodding along.

"Brother Lioren is the one who'll represent us today! It's only natural, with the heir of the Dusk Clan being here!"

Trying to save themselves while their bodies shook under Jasmine's cold and merciless stare, they rushed to explain.

"That does have some logic to it," Jasmine said slowly.

"But you see, Prince Azriel Crimson is just as much a representative of the Crimson Clan as I am, despite not being the heir. So if you two claim not to be representatives, acting on your own accord as individuals, and yet you insult a great clan... then doesn't that give me the right to punish you both with the penalty of death?"

Azriel watched the blood literally drain from their faces as they stared at her, horrified. Internally, he was extremely amused and almost wished he had popcorn.

It had been an idiotic move. To Azriel, their behavior was nothing new. The only difference was that this time they'd done it in front of Jasmine, and that was the stupid part.

Maybe it was because it had been so long since they'd had the chance to try and bully him that they'd forgotten Jasmine was here—a person they literally couldn't insult because of her status as heiress.

Maybe they thought that, since Jasmine never got involved back in the old days when they bullied Azriel out of her sight, they could get away with some verbal abuse now to quench their thirst. That maybe Jasmine didn't really care much about Azriel. Who did, in the great clans? No one had stood up for him in years.

Maybe it was also because they'd seen how Azriel was stronger than them this time, and they were desperate to put him "back in his place" quickly.

Alas... this time, they were wrong about Jasmine. She wasn't going to listen to Azriel and stay out of it like in the old days. And because they had done it right in front of her, Azriel couldn't just quietly brush it aside.

It wasn't as if he'd ever really been bothered by them, nor had he developed the psychological trauma they might have hoped for. His attitude had always been more along the lines of, "When will this be over?" or "Again?" whenever they tried to bully him. It was less indifference and more a tired sort of acceptance.

Only this time, things weren't going to go the same way.

So they did the only thing they could think of.

They looked at their big brother.

Lioren watched the both of them with the same expression as always. Azriel could feel that Lioren was curious about where this was going, but the Dusk twins' faces fell into despair when they saw the cold, dismissive attitude he had toward them.

That, too, was nothing new. It was honestly Jasmine and Azriel who were the strange pair among the great clans—a prince and an heiress who didn't fight each other for the throne. Meanwhile, in the Dusk Clan and Nebula Clan, the children were killing each other for it.

No, literally—they were, and had, killed their own brothers and sisters. The ones seated here were not the only children of the Nebula and Dusk clans. There were many more. Caleus, Veronica, Lioren, Vioren, and Hioren had all taken the lives of at least one sibling.

There were malicious rumors whispering—if you dug deep enough—that the Dusk King and Nebula King were like rabbits, with how many children they produced. Changing queens every few years. New children. More heirs.

To the point that the princes and princesses of the Nebula Clan could basically name themselves officially at the age of seven. The Dusk King, perhaps with a shred of sanity still left, at least remembered he was their father and named them himself... though most of the time it was only a letter changed here or there.

"So?"

Suddenly, Jasmine's tone dropped even lower. The twins, the Count—basically everyone except Lioren—were sweating at this point.

"Am I to assume that I'm right, and the two of you are forfeiting your lives?"

Anyone could see in this suffocating atmosphere that the twins were desperately trying to hide their hostility and their glares at Jasmine. One wrong move and she might actually burn them alive.

"...We... we apologize," Hioren managed.

"We shouldn't have... said those things," Vioren added.

"I am not the one you should be apologizing to."

Knowing exactly what she meant, the two of them made faces like they'd just chewed on a bug.

...Which was the greatest mistake they could have made at that moment.

The next second, Azriel saw Jasmine's hand move. The silver knife in front of her shot through the air straight toward Hioren's throat. It was fast—so fast that the Dusk twins didn't even realize one of them was about to become the first piece of meat pierced at this dinner.

Yet before the knife could reach him, another knife flew toward it, colliding with Jasmine's. Metal struck metal with a sharp clang that rang through the room as both blades were knocked off course, clattering to the floor.

"Unfortunately, I cannot allow the blood of my clan to be spilled in front of me... if it is not by my own hands."

Lioren spoke without the slightest change in tone or emotion, while Jasmine looked at him coldly.

"You were sensible enough to call us ahead of time to make sure we don't tarnish our reputations in front of the others, yet to me it seems the only barking dogs here are the ones with your blood. Not mine. Not Caleus'. Which means that, if this had happened when the others were here, it would have been your responsibility, because you can't handle your little brothers, Lioren."

Lioren regarded Jasmine silently for a moment before letting out a delayed hum.

"It's not as if I have ever exchanged words with these two," he said.

"The first time was only yesterday, when I ordered them to come here today. I was unaware that the hostility of our little brothers was so one-sided."

"Hah! Then the fault still lies with you, doesn't it, Lioren?"

Caleus spoke up suddenly, a smirk back on his face.

"I mean, if the dogs are undisciplined, then as their owner you're meant to discipline them yourself..."

As he said that, he stretched his hand out and let it drift behind Veronica, where his fingers gently closed around the back of her neck. Caleus' smile slowly shifted into something sharper, more sadistic.

"And of course," he murmured, "that means tightening their leash until they become more obedient."

Uncomfortable and clearly afraid, Veronica bit her lip and looked down, clenching her fists in her lap as Caleus' grip tightened at the back of her neck.

"Is that so?" Lioren asked.

Seemingly unbothered, he simply nodded, as if the advice were practical rather than disturbing.

"Then perhaps the fault does partly lie with me."

He turned his gaze to the twins.

"Go back to your rooms. You're not allowed to leave until I say so. Also—no dinner."

"Pfft...!"

Caleus released his grip on Veronica and hunched forward, clamping a hand over his mouth to hold back his laughter.

Azriel couldn't help but smile, which the twins immediately noticed. Their expressions twisted with anger as they shot to their feet and glared at Lioren.

"Brother! You might be the heir for now, but that doesn't give you the right to order us around like this!" Vioren protested, Hioren nodding sharply beside him.

"You talk about blood, yet you seem more willing to back them than your own blood!" Hioren added.

"Yeah! How would it look if they can attend with the heirs of their clans, yet the Dusk Clan only has its heir present—even though everyone already knows we're here as well?" Vioren continued.

"This is not up for discussion," Lioren replied, unfazed.

"Go. Now."

His expression still didn't change—but this time, his eyes did narrow.

For some reason, that tiny shift was enough. The twins went even paler than before, as if the last bit of color had been scraped from their faces. Their bodies trembled, and their eyes revealed real fear.

"...Y-Yes, Brother," Vioren said at last, staring down in frustration.

"...Forgive our insolence."

They became much more respectful in an instant, then turned away from Lioren and started toward the door. Not without glancing back at Azriel first, both of them glaring at him with clear murderous intent.

Azriel... simply smirked back at them and gave them a small, lazy wave. Veins bulged in their faces at that, but they said nothing.

Then they were gone, and the door finally closed behind them.

'That was nice to watch,' Azriel thought.

'Though those two will definitely be plotting something against me now. Not that they can really do much...'

Besides, if they did anything Azriel deemed...

Well, something that could piss him off—he wouldn't be accepting it quietly this time.

He let his gaze drift to Veronica.

'Seems like Caleus scared the living shit out of her, huh...'

She sat in complete silence now, obediently keeping her head bowed, shoulders drawn in.

Celestina, meanwhile, hadn't said anything. She watched it all with the same serious expression on her face. There wasn't much she could say anyway. She was the only one here who was an only child... for now.

"A-Ahem!"

The Count cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention back to him.

"We will be opening the doors for the others soon," he said.

"So if there is anything important left to discuss, let us please make haste."

He chuckled nervously—but then his eyes locked with Azriel's.

"Ah, well, before that..." The Count stood up and bowed his head deeply.

"I haven't really had the proper chance, but I would like to apologize for my behavior when you came to cure my daughter, and to offer you my sincerest gratitude for being able to cure her. Please do not hesitate to ask me for anything. No matter what it is, as long as it is within my power, I will lend you a hand."

Azriel gave another business like smile, but this time directed at the Count.

"I simply did what anyone here at this table would have done, had they had the chance," he replied.

Of course... that wasn't true.

They could probably have found a way themselves.

But they didn't. Whatever their excuses were, they had deliberately chosen not to. And the Count seemed to know it. A strange expression crossed his face before he hurriedly smoothed it over with a polite smile and took his seat again.

"There is much of importance to discuss," Lioren spoke up once more.

"I am also aware of your journey to get here, Azriel. A suspicion I had has now been confirmed thanks to what I know because of you, so you have my thanks."

Azriel blinked at him, then looked at Jasmine.

"I already told him yesterday about the important information you'd discovered," Jasmine explained calmly, "to save time, if that's all right."

"It is," Azriel said.

He didn't mind. He knew Jasmine wouldn't reveal anything she shouldn't.

"But we will discuss all of this," Lioren continued, "when everyone has arrived and is seated. For everyone who will be at tonight's dinner is the only group we have use for. The other participants will simply have to pray that we succeed."

A faint, cold finality settled on his last words.

"For which... we naturally will."

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