Due to the last time they gathered at the luxurious suite, Senior Adam Oleander had received several complaints from his neighbors regarding the noise.
He’d already had to apologize once.
And now, upon their return, they were told outright that another complaint would be filed if they didn’t find somewhere else to hang out.
Adam wasn’t the type to throw around his nobility status as leverage. And with Astrid among them, it was absolutely a no-go.
Of course, Astrid could have used her authority as the Imperial Princess to address the issue. But that would’ve been nothing short of tyranny.
So, with the timely suggestion of Natalia Reichenstein, a third-year and one of their party members, they opted to rendezvous at a nearby karaoke place instead.
“Kara… oke? Like… singing?”
Astrid blinked in curiosity. She had never been to one before.
And because of that, Adam saw an opportunity.
Which led them to the current situation.
——♬♫♪♩
“Standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset babe~”
They were at the karaoke lounge now, and naturally, the first one to grab the mic was the one who had suggested the venue, Natalia.
“Wow~”
Astrid was genuinely amazed by how talented her senior was. Natalia’s voice was melodic and smooth, like honey.
Astrid, too, had a secret hobby of her own.
Singing.
To relieve stress, she would occasionally sing to herself whenever she was alone. And she could confidently say she was rather good at it.
But with her priorities focused on her medical studies, which she already held a degree in, and her academic responsibilities, Astrid had never found the time to engage in casual activities with friends outside of official extracurriculars.
Naturally, this had built a wall around her.
Her high school friends had eventually stopped inviting her to hang out after class. Not out of spite, but because they already knew what her answer would be. Not to the extent of never inviting her out, but they never pressured her.
And so, this moment marked a first for her Astrid. It was her first time in a karaoke lounge.
She had heard about them before. The systems used magic-engineered mechanisms such as crystal microphones, projected lyrics, and music channeled through magic speakers.
“Do you want to have a go?” Adam Oleander, seated right beside her, asked.
“Should I…? I don’t know…” Astrid replied shyly, but her eyes gave her away.
She actually did want to try.
“You’ve been eyeing that mic since we got here,” Adam teased. “Multi-talented people tend to have hidden skill sets, right? I bet you’re just as good at singing as you are at speaking. With a voice like yours, how could you not be?”
“Ah…?”
Astrid blinked, a blush rising to her cheeks.
She looked away for a moment, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.
“Don’t tease me like that…” she mumbled.
Ezra watched on, genuinely impressed. Perhaps this senior actually had a chance? Who knew?
Either way, he was curious enough to see how this would play out.
Just then, the mic passed back around. Natalia, having finished her second song, handed it off with a flourish.
“All yours, Astrid~”
The room erupted with light encouragements and playful cheers.
Astrid stood slowly and took the mic with both hands as if it were some sacred relic.
She walked toward the center, her heart thudding just a little faster than usual.
She began flipping through the list of songs projected magically in front of her.
Her finger paused.
She had found one.
“Wooo~!”
“Show us what you got, Princess!” someone called.
Astrid let out a shy chuckle at their enthusiasm.
The song she picked was an older one.
Immediately, a wave of surprised reactions came from her party members.
“Eh? That’s a classic!”
“Didn’t expect that from her!”
The music began to play, and Astrid brought the mic closer.
Everyone leaned forward, eager. After all, this was Astrid Barielle Aetherion, the ever so elegant princess admired by nearly every male student in her year.
Surely, her singing would be just as graceful as her poise.
At that moment, Astrid opened her mouth.
“….”
And one by one, their expressions began to distort.
“…This…” Ezra muttered under his breath, visibly wincing. His hand twitched, fighting the urge to clamp over his ears.
If there were anything to compare her singing to, it would be nails scratching down a chalkboard. It was out of tune, off pitch, and excruciatingly sharp.
“….Okay.”
“Oh, god….”
Absolutely mortifying.
So much so, that some of the party members who had been steadily getting drunk… were now, somehow, sobering up.
“Are… Are we sure the mic isn’t broken?” someone whispered.
“Maybe the magic filter’s malfunctioning?” another added hopefully.
And still, Astrid sang with complete sincerity, blissfully unaware of the chaos within the room.
While most looked like they were on the verge of vomiting, not from alcohol, but the sheer mental trauma, there was one among them who seemed to be enjoying it.
Genuinely enjoying it.
He sat there with a warm smile with his eyes peacefully shut close, as if lost in the music.
“….Wait.”
Ezra narrowed his eyes, leaning forward slightly.
“….”
Was Senior Adam even alive right now?
Because from where Ezra stood, he could swear it looked like Adam’s soul was slipping out of his body.
That smile might’ve just been the afterlife welcoming him in.
The final note hit slightly off-key and painfully long, before the music faded.
Astrid opened her eyes with her cheeks flushed, chest rising with nervous excitement.
“Well…?” she asked, feeling hopeful. “How was it?”
Silence.
The room collectively froze as eyes darted around, drinked were sipped with forced enthusiasm, and someone caught violently in the back.
“Wow, that was—”
“Extraordinary!” Adam blurted out, cutting Natalia off before she could even fake her praise.
“R-Really?” Astrid asked, scratching her faintly pink cheek. Her eyes shone with hope, clearly eager for feedback.
“Of course,” Adam said genuinely. “Have you ever been scouted before?”
The room fell silent as every party member turned to look at him, visibly stunned.
Was he serious? Why did he look so serious?
They all knew Adam had it bad for Astrid, but wow.
Did love really make a person this blind?
No, actually. Deaf?
Astrid blinked. “Scouted…?”
“Yes, for singing,” Adam said. “There’s something unique about your tone. Though it’s not refined, I believe that’s what makes it special. You have potential, Astrid.”
Ezra nearly choked on his drink.
“Raw is one word,” he muttered under his breath.
“I suppose that’s one interpretation,” Natalia added delicately, shooting Ezra a look that said ‘Is he okay?’
Astrid, on the other hand, lit up.
“I’ve never been scouted before,” she said. “But maybe that’s because I never really tried singing in public…?”
“You should definitely—”
“Practice!” Natalia jumped in quickly before Adam could say something he might regret. What the hell was this guy doing? Was he trying to set the princess up for humiliation? Did he want to be charged with treason?
She offered a too-bright smile and looped her arm around Astrid’s. “Practice makes perfect, Astrid! You just need a little more, you know, polishing. We all start somewhere, right?”
Astrid blinked. “So… it wasn’t that good?”
“No! I mean, yes! It was heartfelt. Just… imagine what it would sound like with more training. You’d be unstoppable!”
Ezra had to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back a laugh. Natalia was really putting in work right now.
Adam, to his credit, still looked perfectly composed. “I stand by what I said. There’s potential.”
But out of everyone in the room, the person Astrid truly wanted a genuine comment from was Ezra.
After all, Ezra had been personally hand-picked by Professor Vanitas. Meaning, in Astrid’s eyes, the professor saw something exceptional in him. And if Vanitas trusted him, then his opinion mattered.
Astrid subtly shifted her gaze, and her eyes landed on him.
‘Why is she looking at me?’ Ezra thought, suddenly tensing. His fears were confirmed when Astrid turned her full attention toward him.
“W-What do you think…?” she asked, bashfully fidgeting with her fingers.
Ezra internally screamed. ‘Why is she asking everyone? Is this a singing competition now? Is this the Voice? When did this afterparty turn into an Astrid vocal evaluation panel?!’
He swallowed hard, feeling every pair of eyes shift toward him.
“Well…” he began slowly, trying to buy time as his brain worked overtime. “You definitely… sang.”
Astrid tilted her head. “That’s it?”
Ezra coughed. “I mean, you sang bravely. There’s heart. And that’s the most important thing. Anyone can be technical, but not everyone can… um, move people.”
“Move them where?” someone muttered under their breath.
“Out the door,” another whispered, earning a quiet snort.
But Astrid smiled, completely missing the sarcasm. “Thank you, Ezra. That means a lot.”
Ezra forced a smile. ‘Please don’t sing again,’ he prayed silently to whatever gods were listening.
Shortly after that, the mic continued making its rounds. One by one, everyone sang, some better than others, some too drunk to care.
The atmosphere gradually loosened into something more relaxed. Laughter echoed, drinks flowed, and the room grew comfortably noisy. That was until the mic eventually landed on Ezra.
He immediately shook his head. “Ah, no. I’m not really that good at singing. I’m just here for the drinks.”
Natalia raised a brow, unconvinced. “Oh? Come on, don’t be like that. We’re all here to have fun, no?”
“Yeah,” someone added, already slurring a little. “It’s not about being good. Even Astrid sang!”
Ezra glanced at Astrid, who was now sipping juice like she’d just performed a sold-out concert. She didn’t seem to hear the jab, which was probably for the best.
“I really don’t think it’s a good idea,” he tried again, raising both hands defensively. “You all wouldn’t enjoy it.”
“Oh, come on, Ezra,” Adam chimed in. “Just one. You’re not getting out of here untouched.”
“Wording….” Ezra muttered, already scanning for the nearest exit.
“Don’t worry,” Natalia smirked, reaching across the table to shove the mic into his hand. “We’ll go easy on you.”
Ezra stared down at the mic like it had just betrayed him on a personal level. His head was intoxicated from the alcohol, not enough to lose control, but just enough for his better judgment to slip.
He still had his wits about him, but there was also a sense of impulse… as if saying, What does it matter?
So, he sighed.
“….”
And then, Ezra sang.
Unlike Astrid’s earlier performance, this one left the room genuinely surprised. Ezra wasn’t half-bad at all. No, in fact, he was quite decent.
When he finished, he didn’t wait for applause or seek anyone’s reaction. He simply returned to his seat and passed the mic to the person nearest him, Adam.
“Wow~ I didn’t know you could sing,” Astrid said beside him, clearly impressed.
Meanwhile, Adam Oleander took the mic and began to sing. He kept sneaking glances at Astrid in between lyrics, hoping she’d look his way.
But Astrid was fully engaged in conversation with Ezra and didn’t even spare him a glance.
Adam frowned slightly, but he kept going. If he nailed the song, especially the high-pitch part he deliberately chose, maybe she’d finally notice.
“Seems like you’re feeling better,” Astrid said, setting her glass down and turning fully toward Ezra.
“Better? What do you mean?” he asked.
“Well, it seemed like you were kind of down all day. Your face was really serious—like this.” She puffed her cheeks and furrowed her brows into a playful frown. “You know?”
Ezra blinked. “Is that… so?”
“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “Is something bothering you? I’m all ears to listen.”
Ezra paused, his eyes drifting toward his untouched glass. He thought back to the events earlier that day. Unlike Professor Vanitas and Silas, Astrid had actually been there when his grandmother passed.
She saw what he looked like that day, and remained quiet about it without every prying or forcing a conversation out of him.
He couldn’t tell her everything, of course. Not the full truth, about the blood on his hands, or the sins that kept him up at night. But maybe… maybe it would be okay to talk.
To vent, even just a little.
“Wanna step outside?” Astrid asked, gentle and warm.
Ezra looked up, startled by her timing, as if she’d read his thoughts. After a moment’s hesitation, he gave a slow nod.
“All right.”
The two of them stood and quietly slipped away from the table. No one seemed to notice except Adam, whose falsetto reached its emotional peak just as Astrid walked past him without a second glance.
“Shitty of you, to make me feel just like—Ah, Astrid!”
His voice cracked mid-lyric and the moment fell flat. But Astrid didn’t hear it.
She and Ezra had already passed through the lounge doors and were making their way into a quiet corridor just outside, lined with glowing vending machines.
The noise of the party faded behind them. It was quieter here.
Astrid stepped up to the vending machine and scrolled through the available drinks with a small frown. She clicked a few times, then looked back at Ezra.
“Want one? I’ll pay,” she offered.
“Nah, it’s fine,” Ezra replied.
“Suit yourself.”
She cracked open the can with a hiss, took a sip, then coolly leaned back against the wall with one foot casually pressed behind her.
“So?” she asked. “I’m here to listen.”
Ezra hesitated. His gaze lowered toward the floor.
“I’ve… committed an unforgivable sin,” he said quietly. “Something I could never hope to repay.”
There was a beat of silence.
“….Is this about Senior Audelle?” Astrid asked softly.
Ezra didn’t answer. But his silence confirmed what she already suspected. Astrid’s expression remained calm. She had hit the mark.
“Are you… conflicted about her death?” she continued. “Wondering if, deep down, you’re happy the Pittsburg family suffered like yours did?”
Ezra flinched slightly. That wasn’t it. Not even close. But it still brushed the edge of the truth.
The very idea of schadenfreude was something he had considered before, if only to reject it outright.
He bit his lip hard, stopping himself from answering.
He wanted to tell her of the voices he could hear every night. God, he wanted to. But he couldn’t. Who knew what the Imperial Family would do if she reported it?
And more than that, he couldn’t destroy everything he and Professor Vanitas had worked so hard to plan.
“Seems like I’m right,” Astrid said, taking another sip of her drink. “Look, I’m not here to judge how you’re supposed to feel. Just feel what you feel.”
Ezra looked up, startled at the simplicity of her words.
“You don’t have to justify it. Not to me. Not even to yourself, if you’re not ready,” Astrid said. “People like to pretend grief is this neat, explainable thing, but it’s not. It’s messy. It twists you up. Makes you hate things. Makes you guilty for not hating enough.”
Ezra gave her a long look.
“You sound like you’ve had a rough time too,” he said quietly.
“Not really,” Astrid replied so casually. “Watched my mother slowly die right in front of me. A father who never really paid attention to me. Grew up between siblings who fought like it’s a blood-sport. But I just try to ignore everything.”
Ezra raised a brow. “Doesn’t that make you ignorant?”
“Does it?” she asked back. “I don’t know. Just like you, my family isn’t absolved of sins. No one is. Not even me.”
A silence settled between them again, not the awkward kind, but the kind that followed understanding. For a moment, it didn’t feel like they were two people with a glaring status difference.
A small breath passed from Astrid’s lips as she finished her drink and tossed the empty can into the bin.
“We should probably head back,” she said, pushing off from the wall.
A moment of silence as Astrid walked past Ezra.
“Hey,” he said
“Hm?” Astrid paused, turning her head toward him.
“Singing.”
“…?”
“Don’t waste your talent here.”
* * *
Franz’s wedding was fast approaching. In just a few days, he would be formally wedded to his betrothed and crowned as Emperor, Franz Barielle Aetherion.
To mark his final days of freedom, he had gathered nobles from across the Empire. There was no hierarchy in attendance as Dukes, Marquesses, Counts, even Barons had been invited.
It resembled a bachelor party of sorts, though far more dignified, composed of the heads of every noble house that could manage an appearance.
A parallel event was arranged for his bride-to-be, Olivia Heinrich, who was hosting a gathering of noblewomen on her end as both events ran in tandem.
As for the men, the first item on the agenda was a classic leisure sport.
Golf.
A tradition often adopted by the highborn.
Naturally, Vanitas was in attendance. Not as a mere formality, but as one of Franz’s closest companions. And unlike most of the lower nobles present, Vanitas wasn’t here to curry favor.
He already had it.
The same could not be said for the others. Many of the Barons and younger Counts hovered just a little too closely, laughed just a little too hard at Franz’s jokes, and nodded a little too eagerly whenever he spoke.
“You’re really bad at this, Vanitas,” Franz remarked, watching his friend’s last shot land embarrassingly off course.
Vanitas didn’t seem bothered. He casually handed his club to an attendant and replied, “I suppose golf just isn’t my thing.”
“Clearly not. If you were any worse, I’d have to exile you on principle.”
Before Vanitas could offer a retort, a sudden shout drew everyone’s attention.
——Wow!
The sharp clink of a clean hit echoed across the green. All heads turned toward the source. One of the younger nobles, a recently ascended Viscount, who had just scored a hole-in-one.
The man beamed with pride, already receiving congratulatory cheers and compliments from those around him.
“Hm.”
Vanitas offered only a fleeting glance in that direction. He wasn’t particularly interested in golf, nor did he care to feign excitement for something he clearly had no affinity for.
In fact, he was probably the worst player present, not that it mattered to him.
Shortly after the game concluded, the nobles were ushered toward the second venue of the day’s festivities. A private pool party hosted at one of the Imperial manors within the capital.
Vanitas remained clothed, seated at the edge beneath a shaded awning with a drink he never touched.
Franz was already mingling shirtless in the center of it all, all smiles and laughter, surrounded by a rotating crowd of nobles eager to appear close to the next Emperor.
“Still dressed, Marquess Astrea?” someone asked from behind.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw an aging nobleman approaching. The man wore a silk robe that hung open, exposing his bulbous torso with no regard for modesty.
“You are…?”
“Derrek Grenthal,” the man said with a slight bow, placing a hand to his chest. “Of the Grenthal Earl Family. I’ve been meaning to strike up a conversation with you, Marquess.”
“Ah.”
He recognized him. Derrek Grenthal was better known for his daughter’s ambitious reputation than for any accomplishments of his own.
A middle-tier noble house always eager to climb higher, and a father who had likely prepared every word of this conversation in front of a mirror.
“I have to say,” Grenthal continued, stepping closer, “it’s impressive how composed you are. So many of these young lords lose themselves in all this excess, but not you. You carry yourself like a true imperial statesman.”
Vanitas raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Grenthal said with a chuckle. “That’s why I’ve always thought it such a shame that a man of your status remains… unmarried. You’re not… entangled with anyone at the moment, are you?”
Vanitas took a slow sip from his untouched glass before replying. “I guess not?”
“Which brings me to my lovely daughter, Julienne. Educated at the University of Fine Arts, fluent in four languages, and received several awards for her artworks.”
Vanitas suppressed the urge to sigh.
“I believe you two would complement each other quite well. And if I may be frank, she’s had a… fondness for you since the last Imperial banquet. She even painted a portrait of you once, impressive likeness, too, I must say.”
“I’m flattered,” Vanitas replied evenly. “She sounds like a remarkable woman. Perhaps I should consider your offer and meet her.”
Grenthal lit up, clearly not expecting even that much of a response.
“Yes, yes! I could have her come to the wedding banquet. The one following the imperial ceremony. She’ll be thrilled.”
Vanitas gave a noncommittal smile, the kind that revealed nothing.
“Of course, I wouldn’t want to impose on your time,” Grenthal added quickly. “But with your status and hers, it would be a match blessed by many. Particularly in these… turbulent times.”
“That’s right.”
And Derrek Grenthal wasn’t the only one.
Vanitas had barely taken two steps before yet another noble approached. And then another. And another.
Apparently, the pool party had turned into a spontaneous matchmaking market. Heads of noble houses, Dukes, Marquesses, Earls, and so on, seemed to think that now was the perfect time to casually mention their daughters.
The monthly letters at his estate were already a headache. This, though?
Wow, just wow.
He wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or horrified.