The Imperial Eye Turns
The empty hum of the ballroom seemed to stretch into eternity.
Meanwhile, Lariel Maechert glared at the servant offering her a goblet of sherbet, her eyes like daggers.
She had seen Arinell’s back as she slipped into the kitchen earlier.
She had hoped the girl would ruin the entire party, but instead she had become the undisputed star once more.
Even her dress and mask were nothing compared to the ones this upstart had chosen.
“Eat this cheap sherbet yourself!”
Lariel’s venomous voice made the servant’s hand freeze mid-air.
The tall, brown-haired servant was strikingly handsome, yet his expression was unnaturally cold.
“Your words… are quite irritating.”
Lariel slowly turned her head back, voice low and sharp.
She had accompanied her father to the palace many times, but she had never seen a servant with such an expression.
He was not some favored royal attendant, surely. He was simply serving in the ballroom.
“What did you say?”
The servant met her glare with arrogant eyes, showing no trace of surprise at his own words.
Lariel’s lips twitched, and her whole body began to tremble with fury.
“Hah! You dared to speak to me like that?!”
Every eye in the room swung toward them.
The servant still regarded Lariel with cool indifference, even as her voice rose in anger.
Lariel pointed sharply, shouting, “How dare you treat me like this, you mere servant?!”
She snatched the goblet from his tray and hurled it to the floor.
The sound of shattering crystal was followed by the bright red sherbet—mixed with the red sugar beet Arinell had made—spilling across the marble in a muddy mess.
The servant’s eyebrows twitched once, and a sudden wave of icy cold radiated from him.
Seeing the damage, Lariel felt a dark satisfaction bloom in her chest.
But… what was this eerie aura coming from such a lowly servant?
—Whoosh—
The Duke Maechert, who had been chatting with the nobles, suddenly felt an oppressive chill and turned his head.
There, he saw his own daughter pointing and shouting at someone.
Following her finger, his heart seemed to stop.
“Lariel? Who dares—”
His wife, too, had witnessed the scene. Her brows furrowed as she hurried toward them.
The Duke Maechert lunged forward, seizing his wife’s wrist with iron strength, his face twisted.
“Dammit. Listen carefully. You’ve done something wrong to Lariel today. Understand?”
“W-what? That lowly servant just—!”
“Remember this well. If you value your family’s lives, you must—”
At those words, the Duchess’s face turned rigid.
The Duke strode straight to the servant, who sensed his presence and turned.
Seeing her father, Lariel offered a fierce, almost delighted smile.
Then, sneering, she said, “You’re dead now. Father won’t let this—”
But her words never finished.
The Duke reached out and slammed his hand down on her head with terrifying force.
The pressure of an adult’s strength forced Lariel to her knees against her will.
“Ugh, Father!”
“You have committed a crime worthy of death.”
Yet the Duke, who had pinned her head down, bowed deeply to the servant—something a commoner would do.
Lariel could not believe her eyes.
Her father, bowing and apologizing to a mere servant?
Her face flushed crimson, all the way to her ears.
“…”
At that moment, everyone in the room gasped, some covering their mouths in shock.
The servant’s hair began to change color.
From the tips to the roots, it turned into an ethereal silver as if under a spell.
Even his ordinary brown eyes gradually shifted to a vivid ruby red.
“Father! Why are you—?!”
Lariel shoved his hand off her head and looked up at the servant with wild eyes.
Her heart nearly stopped.
The silver hair of the Albreon family’s symbol. The cold, chilling gaze that could freeze blood.
The face of the greatest emperor in history—Parmes Aslet, the ruler of Albreon.
“H- His Majesty the Emperor…?”
For a split second, her vision spun. She felt dizzy, but survival instinct took over.
“What… what have I done?!”
Lariel’s hands started to shake violently.
She had only been scolding a servant for offering bad sherbet…
The Duke raised his voice, his tone silky with hidden danger.
“This morning, the child was told she had eaten spoiled food. Because of her hazy mind, I sent her here… and she committed such an impious act. I apologize, Your Majesty.”
“H-hazy…?!”
The Duke clamped his hand over Lariel’s mouth.
“Your Majesty, it is entirely my fault. I should never have brought her to the masked ball today…”
Even the Duchess, whose face had gone pale at the sight of the servant turning into the emperor, added in a trembling voice, “Yes, it is all my fault.”
Insulting the emperor was no different from asking for execution.
They knew all too well how ruthless Parmes was.
* * *
I watched the scene unfold, feeling as if I were skating on thin ice.
Lariel… you really have it coming.
I considered warning her in advance not to act so carelessly toward the servant… but I quickly shook my head.
Too late for that.
“Those who insult me…”
Parmes’s lips moved.
A chill ran down everyone’s spine at the cold tone of his voice.
“I can forgive it.”
The nobles swallowed hard.
“Looking at their faces… it seems this is the first time they’ve seen this kind of composure.”
Without it, how could they have maintained such perfect control?
“Your Majesty… please show mercy…”
The Duchess’s dignified aura from the birthday party now looked like it might pierce the heavens.
But that strength vanished, replaced by a terrified face as she begged the emperor.
“However…”
Parmes continued.
His gaze drifted to the floor, where the ruined sherbet glass and its contents lay scattered.
Lariel looked at it with desperate, trembling eyes, as if she wanted to pick it up.
“Carelessly discarding red sugar beet sherbet is unforgivable.”
Everyone froze.
“…!!”
“It was made by Arinell.”
At Parmes’s next words, every eye turned to me.
Even in fear, my expression held a triumphant glint.
And Parmes himself seemed genuinely impressed by the value of this simple drink.
“…This is too much, isn’t it!”
But my internal scream was ignored.
Parmes spoke with solemn gravity, “Indeed. You dared to throw away Arinell’s carefully prepared sherbet, you little brat.”
People shuddered at the overwhelming aura rolling off him.
I wanted to say, “Hey, stop it! Everyone will freeze to death. Eating cold food is dangerous…”
But the atmosphere was already too terrifying to interrupt.
Parmes clearly had no intention of forgiving her.
Lariel sat with her head bowed, clutching her dress hem, shaking all over.
“P-Please… forgive me, Your Majesty.”
“It is entirely our fault. We will surely educate her better from now on.”
Her parents, terrified of being punished for raising their daughter wrong, bowed as well.
Then, Parmes’s gaze shifted to me.
Unlike the icy stare he had given Lariel, warmth—limitless warmth—flooded his eyes when he looked at me.
He asked in a playful tone, using only his lips.
“What should I do for you?”