This night had been nothing short of an exhausting roller coaster. There were too many things to process. Too many thoughts that demanded my attention.
But above all else, one thought mattered to me the most.
“….”
The Imperial Queen, Julia Barielle.
Franz, Irene, and Astrid’s mother.
That woman… Deep in my heart, I felt it, a connection I couldn’t just simply ignore.
To Vanitas Astrea, she was his benefactor.
And with that realization, an indescribable guilt settled over me, gnawing at the edges of my mind.
“….”
It hurt.
A sharp, stabbing sensation—like a blade buried deep in my chest, threatening to crumble my heart into pieces.
On the surface, I might have seemed composed, but in reality, I was completely lost in my world, all while trying my best to entertain the people who approached me.
“Haa….”
The entire night had been a whirlwind.
The Saintess.
Nietzsche’s strange words.
That vision I saw when I looked at Astrid.
But out of everything, one thought mattered most.
“….”
Something that existed before Vanitas Astrea became an Astrea.
Or rather—before I, Vanitas Astrea, was even given that name. The realization settled over me.
“….”
And then, without thinking, the word slipped from my lips.
“Zen.”
That was the name.
The name before Vanitas Astrea became Vanitas Astrea.
“Hm?”
Franz, who had noticed my lapse in focus, turned to the side.
It took a moment for us to fully acknowledge each other ever since arriving at the banquet, but when he did, he approached me directly.
Just like my earlier exchange with Silas, Franz and I stood side by side, watching the crowd mingle
“….”
The only difference was that Franz was surrounded by women.
“Do you have plans for tonight, Lord Astrea?”
And, as it turned out, so was I.
A number of women, from both the Theocracy and Aetherion were around us at the moment. Perhaps they were all vying for our attention—or, more likely, they had been sent by their families.
After all, in the world of aristocrats, both Franz and I being single at our age was something quite rare.
But the truth was, I was single, while Franz was a widower. I didn’t know much about his past, but what I did know was that Franz’s fiancée had died over eighteen years ago. And that loss, more than anything else, was why he had become the mess of a man he was today.
Perhaps that was why I resonated with Franz.
“Oh, I thought I was just seeing things, but you’re pretty responsible in handling situations like these,” Franz whispered from my side.
I had been politely navigating the conversations, and had gracefully declined offers while keeping the atmosphere cordial.
One of them had even gone so far as to ask if I would consider meeting their family.
“Ah, perhaps another time.”
I wasn’t interested.
In any case, I could resonate with Franz to a certain extent. Just as he had lost his beloved, I too had lost mine.
My teacher, my guardian, my benefactor, Kim Min-jeong.
But that was something I didn’t want to remember.
“….”
It was my fault in the first place.
Once more, I forced the thoughts to the back of my mind. I had already locked them away long ago.
So why were they resurfacing now?
“….”
No, it was probably because of the Saintess. The thought of Eun-ah had led to another.
As the women finally dispersed, leaving Franz and me in peace, he turned to me with a curious expression.
“You know, I actually saw you earlier. But strangely enough, did you know my sister?”
I raised a brow. “Which one? Astrid or Irene?”
“Irene.”
“Ah, no. Actually, we only just met today. I was fortunate to have danced with her.”
Franz hummed with interest. “You two seemed to have hit it off.”
There was something playful in his tone, but also a hint of genuine curiosity.
“I wonder,” he mused. “I’ve never seen my sister like that before. Maybe she’s taken a liking to you.”
I let out a short chuckle, shaking my head. “You’re reading too much into it, Lord Franz. It was simply decorum.”
“Perhaps,” he admitted. “But I’m sure you’ve heard of Irene’s difficult personality.”
I nodded.
Indeed, it was well known that Aetherion’s First Princess was a bit of an eccentric.
However, her strong personality had made her not only a formidable political figure but also an influential force in the underworld.
To put things into perspective, if there were a global index of the wealthiest individuals in the world, Irene would place quite highly on the list.
I shrugged lightly. “Well, it was simply that, Lord Franz. Circumstances. I doubt I’ll cross paths with Princess Irene again anytime soon.”
Franz gave me a knowing look. “You think so?”
I frowned slightly at his tone, but before I could ask what he meant, a shift in the atmosphere caught my attention.
“….”
My gaze drifted, and for a brief moment, I locked eyes with Astrid.
She held my stare. Then, just as quickly, turned away.
“….”
“Ah, I see….”
Franz, noticing my line of sight, placed a hand on my shoulder after muttering those words.
“You have my blessing,” he said casually. Then, after a pause, he added, “But I at least hope you wait until she graduates.”
“….”
What in the world was this guy talking about?
I turned to Franz, searching his expression for any sign of amusement, only to find his face dead serious.
I exhaled. “Lord Franz, I believe there’s been a misunderstanding—”
“Oh? So you’re saying you don’t have an interest in my sister. I’m not entirely against it, you know? Astrid is of age. And you, my friend….”
I shot him a deadpan look. “She’s my student.”
“Exactly why I advised you to wait until she graduates.”
“….”
* * *
“I have some matters to attend to, Charlotte. I’ll be back. Don’t go home without me.”
“Okay.”
After whispering those words to his younger sister, Vanitas discreetly made his way toward the exit, ensuring no one was following him.
At the moment, their home was a hazard. He couldn’t risk Charlotte going back alone.
Raising his perception, he glanced left, then right, scanning for any lingering eyes.
Fortunately, there was nothing. And even if there was, he had a valid excuse of heading to the parking lot.
“….”
There were plenty of people around, some were smoking, while some were sealing deals with new connections they had made.
Moving carefully, Vanitas slid into a peculiar car, shutting the door behind him.
“Took you long enough,” a familiar voice chimed from the backseat.
Irene.
Already seated, she regarded him with a knowing look as he settled into his seat beside her.
——Nice to see you again, Lord Vanitas.
Vanitas turned at the sound of the monotonous, almost robotic tone coming from the driver’s seat.
“….”
It was Zia.
“I believe I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Alexa.”
However, she had introduced herself as Alexa instead of Zia. They clearly didn’t trust him yet.
“Nice to meet you.” Vanitas nodded.
“Drive,” Irene instructed.
The car pulled away smoothly. Vanitas leaned back, alternating his gaze between the two women in silence. Irene sat beside him with her arms crossed, watching the city blur past the window as “Alexa” remained focused on the road.
“Where are we going?” Vanitas asked.
“Just a detour,” Irene said, not even sparing him a glance. “A very long one.”
“….”
Vanitas drummed his fingers against his knee as he waited in silence. Eventually, Irene shifted slightly, her fingers tapping against her arm.
“Alright,” she said, exhaling as if preparing herself. “Let’s get down to business.”
Vanitas swallowed. Truth be told, he had no idea what Irene really wanted from him. He had his guesses, but that was all they were. Guesses.
“Firstly,” she began. “What’s your relationship with Franz?”
Click.
The soft clicking sound of a revolver being cocked echoed through the car. Before Vanitas had realized it, Irene had the barrel aimed at him at point-blank range.
‘Ah. Of course.’
This was about Franz. Their closeness, first at the festival, then again during the banquet, had clearly raised Irene’s suspicion.
Irene had every reason to distrust him. More than that, she had every reason to despise her own brother.
After all, the reason Irene had never accepted a long-time suitor had nothing to do with a lack of interest or ambition. It was because she had already given her heart away, once. To a commoner, no less.
A commoner whose family had fallen victim in the 2004 Holocaust. The very atrocity orchestrated by Franz due to the death of his fiancée. That tragedy gave rise to a twisted narrative. One where the commoner was said to have manipulated events, leading the princess herself to fall for him. But the truth was, he had been an assassin whose goal was to murder Irene and the entire Imperial Family.
When the truth came to light, all Irene could do was blame the cruel hand of circumstance.
In the end, she harbored equal hatred toward both that man and Franz.
From then on, she stopped believing in love. Trusting with the heart, she had learned, was meaningless.
It was quite baffling, really.
“Answer.”
Vanitas remained silent for a beat before tilting his head slightly. “To rephrase your question, Princess. What you really want to know is whether I’m on his side or not, correct?”
“….”
Her eyes gleamed in annoyance, perhaps.
“Don’t make me ask again, Vanitas Astrea.”
He exhaled through his nose. “And if I said no, would you believe me?”
Irene didn’t flinch. “That depends on whether you’re lying.”
Vanitas leaned back, keeping his gaze steady “Lord Franz and I… have an understanding. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Irene’s fingers twitched near the revolver. “An understanding?”
“Mutual awareness,” he corrected. “We know what the other is capable of. But that doesn’t mean I serve him.”
“So, where do you stand?”
“Wherever I need to,” Vanitas answered smoothly. “And if that makes me dangerous to you, then by all means. Pull the trigger.”
Leaning forward, he pressed the cold barrel of the gun against his forehead himself.
“….”
For a long moment, Irene said nothing. His words were both a deflection and a provocation, as if he wasn’t trying to save himself at all. Yet, as she looked into his eyes, there was no hesitation, only conviction.
“….”
This man… did not fear death.
Even if he was lying. Even if she pulled the trigger now, Vanitas wouldn’t take back a single word.
“….”
Irene’s gaze cast downward, lingering on the coat draped over her shoulders. It wasn’t hers, but his.
Truth be told, she already had a semblance of an idea. Vanitas Astrea clearly served no one. But what she wanted now was confirmation. Even if it meant threatening him. Even if it meant risking the consequences.
She didn’t care.
She was already walking a thin line between royalty and crime.
One more life wouldn’t make a difference.
“One more thing,” she said. “Astrid… did you brainwash her?”
Vanitas blinked. “Ah…?”
For a brief moment, genuine confusion crossed his face. Astrid this, Astrid that. First from Franz, now from Irene.
Just what the hell had that girl been saying about him to her siblings?
“Isn’t it obvious?” Vanitas said with a shrug. “I’m her professor. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Slowly, Irene lowered the revolver. A brief silence settled between them, broken only by the sound of the wheels against the road.
Then, Irene broke the silence.
“Do you truly not remember her? Or even me?”
Vanitas blinked, caught off guard. “Yes? What do you mean?”
She studied him for a moment before speaking again. “Zen. Aren’t you Miss Clarice’s son? We met a bunch of times whenever I visited my mother’s workshop. Before your mother married into the Astrea family.”
“….”
For a brief moment, Vanitas hesitated.
“I don’t remember….”
“That’s fair,” Irene said. “You were three years old at the time. Still, Miss Clarice frequently brought you to her workplace. You were bound to meet Astrid somewhere down the line.”
A pause. Then, almost reluctantly, Vanitas muttered, “….I do remember her.”
Irene nodded. “Then does she know? That the boy who found her back then was you?”
“No.” Vanitas shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
The conversation had taken an unexpected turn, but for once, he didn’t mind. He had only just uncovered this connection himself, and truthfully, he wanted to talk about it.
“Well, it doesn’t matter to me,” Irene said flatly. “But still, I’d like to offer my condolences for your loss. I never met your stepfather, but Miss Clarice was a good woman.”
In her childhood years, Irene had frequently visited her mother’s workshop, where Vanitas’s mother worked as a researcher. However, when Irene turned six, she left for the Theocracy to pursue her education, as it housed the best elementary and high school preparatory programs at the time.
It wasn’t until recently that she had taken enough interest in Vanitas to look into him properly. Only then did she realize that Zen, after his mother’s marriage into the Astrea family, had legally changed his name to Vanitas Astrea.
Irene sighed. “What a small world we live in.”
Vanitas leaned back, shifting the topic. “Is that all you wanted to tell me, Princess?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Since we’re already on the subject, I’d like to propose a collaboration. I assume Franz has done the same.”
Vanitas raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly do you need from me?”
“Your connections with the Gambino Family,” Irene stated plainly. “I want you to act as an intermediary so I can meet them. In return, you may name your own terms.”
This was exactly where Vanitas had wanted the conversation to go. A partnership with the one person who had the means to counter Franz’s agenda.
In his past life as a player, choosing the right route had always been difficult. He had tried siding with both factions before, but it had never ended well. However, as Vanitas Astrea, he saw the possibility of playing both sides—Franz and Irene—while subtly guiding Astrid away from the path of a villainess.
All to ensure the Empire’s destruction would never come to pass.
But for now, there was one simple exchange he wanted.
“Then I’d like for you to act as the intermediary to make exportation possible,” he said smoothly. “Specifically, I want to import a product into the Theocracy under your commercial network.”
Irene raised a brow. “A product?”
She leaned back slightly, skepticism glinting in her eyes. “That’s not what I expected you to ask for, but… alright.”
For some reason, she looked almost offended. What had she assumed he would ask for—her body?
“It’s an alcohol product,” Vanitas clarified. “A wine.”
“….”
Silence.
“Pftt….”
Then, all of a sudden, Irene burst into laughter.
Vanitas blinked. “I fail to see what’s so amusing.”
Irene wiped at the corner of her eye as her laughter faded into a chuckle. “Of all things you could have demanded. Money, power, a favor, you ask for wine?” She shook her head in disbelief. “I underestimated you, Vanitas. I thought you were the type to ask for something more… personal.”
Vanitas exhaled, already regretting this conversation. “If I wanted something personal, Princess, I wouldn’t need a deal to get it.”
Irene smirked. “Confident, are we?”
“Realistic,” he corrected. “So, do we have a deal?”
Irene leaned back with her arms crossed, still smiling to herself. “Fine. I’ll arrange it. But now, I’m even more curious about you, Vanitas.”
“That makes two of us, Princess.”
From there, their conversation shifted. Irene spoke of the times she had visited her mother’s workshop as a child, and to Vanitas’s mild surprise, he learned that she had once been responsible for babysitting him, back when he was still Zen. Apparently, at one point, the five-year-old Irene had been tasked with watching over him.
The revelation was almost amusing.
Before long, the car rolled to a stop in front of the banquet venue. Just as Vanitas reached for the door handle, he paused and turned back to Irene.
“One more thing, Princess.”
Irene raised a brow. “What is it?”
“I need an arrangement for a poison antidote,” he said smoothly. “Something that works against a highly potent toxin.”
“Ah?”
Irene blinked before turning to Zia.
“….”
Vanitas did the same.