124.

Rodensi was a family consumed by ambition. Billinent Rodensi, lacking talent in most areas, excelled at one thing: recognizing when his share of power was being chipped away.

The sole reason he had followed his mother without complaint thus far was his belief that she would secure him the throne with minimal difficulty. But that didn’t mean he intended to share power with her.

After experiencing life as the crown prince, Billinent, true to his Rodensi nature, desired absolute authority. His vision conflicted with Adrienne’s, who saw herself and her son as one entity, with her firmly in control as the head.

His unilateral meddling with the McFoy family was no mere whim. It was an attempt to gather leverage and alliances to consolidate his own independent power. However, Billinent lacked the intellect to devise a proper strategy and had no tactician to compensate for his shortcomings, resulting in abject failure.

“Merke would have been better than you! Oh, Mehra, why did you take Calliphe? If only she were still alive—”

Billinent clenched his teeth. Nothing was going as planned, and the Emperor’s harsh rebukes still echoed in his mind.

His father, threatening to hand the throne to a madwoman he had never considered his sister.

His mother, plotting to rule over him with the backing of the Morlogoth family.

The nobles, who had always regarded him as a lesser shadow of the late Calliphe.

Even the meddling priests of Baghdad, intent on controlling his every action.

Billinent was drowning in the deepest humiliation of his life.

For these reasons, his mother had become the target of his rage that day. Yet, from Adrienne’s perspective, her son’s anger was bewildering. She had done everything to accommodate his whims.

“Crown Prince Billinent, my son.”

Suppressing the white-hot fury bubbling within her, Adrienne rose urgently from her seat. Her dazzling, jewel-like eyes brimmed with tears.

“Why would you think such things…? Morlogoth is the only family that will stand unconditionally by the Crown Prince’s side—”

“I am no fool!”

But Adrienne’s sweet words of persuasion no longer held any sway over Billinent. He hurled the chair he had been sitting on, shouting furiously. Adrienne’s lips quivered uncontrollably at her son’s outburst.

“Don’t come to me first.”

Billinent pointed an accusatory finger at Adrienne, issuing his warning. Pale and shaken, Adrienne clutched her forehead and swayed. Her maid screamed, “Your Majesty!” as she rushed to support her.

Unmoved by his frail mother’s apparent collapse, Billinent shoved past the servants and stormed out of the dining hall. The lower-ranking priests and knights tasked with monitoring him glanced nervously at the Empress before trailing after him, a pitiful procession.

Adrienne, still slumped in her maid’s arms, began trembling with a mix of rage and humiliation. Feigning fainting had always been one of her specialties. While her son’s temperament was cruel, he had always adored his mother. This had been her trump card.

“……”

The dining hall fell into an eerie silence. Dropping her act, Adrienne glared at the door her son had exited, her bloodshot eyes filled with seething anger.

Thinking she could control him indefinitely had been Adrienne’s fatal overconfidence. Her grand plans had been unraveling for some time.

Even Billinent, despite his rebellious outburst, felt no satisfaction. For all her audacity to share imperial power, Adrienne was the only relative he truly cared for.

Billinent fled the dining hall like a criminal and headed for his chambers. Yet the sight of the small, sparse room reignited his fury.

He ransacked the room, overturned furniture, and stomped on two hapless attendants before finally calming down. It was only through asserting his dominance over weaker subjects that he could reaffirm his untouchable status as a noble of the highest order.

With the worst of his anger spent, a dizzying sense of relief washed over him, almost like intoxication. His thoughts wandered toward forbidden desires, but the strict regulations surrounding his coming-of-age ceremony forbade any indulgence in such cravings.

“Damn it. Three more days until the ceremony?”

Muttering curses under his breath, Billinent sat on the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t fathom why someone born into the highest station of the empire had to endure such indignities.

‘If only I possessed divine power as great as Calliphe’s, none of this would have happened.’

The empire boasted two noble houses believed to have been blessed by the goddess Mehra: the Diazi family and the Rodensi family.

Rodensi’s rise to imperial power had been due to their innate divine strength. For centuries, this overwhelming power had cemented their dominance. Yet, for reasons unknown, no Rodensi with extraordinary divine power had been born in two generations. The once-omnipotent power of the goddess seemed to be fading, and with it, imperial authority.

In such a climate, the Emperor had naturally held Calliphe, who was born with immense divine power, in the highest regard.

Billinent, in contrast, was ordinary. This sense of inadequacy weighed heavily on him as he threw himself onto his bed. The moment he lay down, a sharp, irritated groan escaped his lips.

“What… is this?”

A wooden box he had never seen before was wedged under the sheets. It was just large enough to hold a thick book, worn but crafted with a craftsman’s precision. Suspecting it was yet another religious text forced upon him, Billinent scowled and picked it up.

With a theatrical display meant for the watching priests, he flung the box to the floor. It shattered with a crunch, revealing, as expected, a thick tome among the broken pieces.

Billinent’s sharp gaze fell on the book. Its leather cover looked ancient, far older than the empire’s history. Mesmerized, he reached out to touch it.

“……!”

The moment he read the first line, his face turned pale, and he slammed the book shut. Frantically, he scanned his surroundings, terrified someone might have seen. The content of the book… merely possessing it, let alone reading it, was grounds for heresy.

His heart raced as he hesitated, then cautiously reopened the book to reread the first line.

“Mehra and Alfo were once one god. While Mehra refrained from sharing her power with humans, Alfo gave it freely. When humans began relying on Alfo, Mehra imprisoned him in the deepest abyss…”

He hadn’t misread it.

“Is this… a test?”

Billinent wondered if this was a divine trial before his coming-of-age ceremony. How else could such a text have appeared so blatantly on the Crown Prince’s bed? His breaths grew shallow as a mix of dread and faint anticipation filled him.

Mehra and Alfo, once the same god. Alfo, who gave power freely…

Power was determined at birth, wasn’t it? What could it mean that Mehra withheld power while Alfo gave it freely?

Yet, mixed with Billinent’s fear was a spark of desperate hope. Taking a deep breath, he glanced around the room once more before cautiously turning the next page.

* * *

Adrienne lay on her bed, receiving care from a high-ranking priest, her breathing shallow as if she were barely clinging to life. Her chest heaved, struggling to calm her racing heart.

But shock was not her only companion—she was consumed by fury. Her son’s unexpected defiance had stripped her of composure and grace.

‘After everything I’ve done to raise him!’

Adrienne, who had entered the imperial palace as the Morlogoth family’s ambitious second empress, had once been stifled by the overwhelming presence of Calliphe, her formidable rival. The first empress’s sheer dominance had forced Adrienne to suppress her ambitions entirely.

But it seemed the goddess had finally smiled upon her. A golden opportunity had arisen: Calliphe’s death.

As if by divine order, Billinent became the crown prince. Adrienne seized the chance to rekindle her ambitions, resolving to raise her son just clever enough to take the throne, but not enough to pose a challenge. Without a competitor for the throne, such a plan had been feasible. Once Billinent ascended as emperor, she, the one he depended on entirely, would reign from the true pinnacle of power.

Adrienne clung to this goal, even as she lay sprawled on her bed, summoning all her patience. But to her dismay, her only son had grown an inflated sense of self without her notice.

Now that she had lost control, the only silver lining was the increased surveillance over Billinent. Adrienne took small comfort in this as she began racking her brain for a way to coax him back into her grasp.

Her maid silently approached, bearing news. Bowing low, she whispered her report into Adrienne’s ear.

“Speak,” Adrienne commanded.

“Your Majesty, the McFoy head’s husband has arrived in Baghdad.”

Adrienne’s eyes snapped open, her brows knitting sharply at the mention of the McFoy head’s husband—Norma Diazi.

“Ah…”

A groan escaped her lips as she clenched her eyes shut. The maid fanning her nearby stiffened, clearly alarmed.

First, Nyx, whom she had believed dead and gone, had returned unscathed. Then her son, once pliant and docile, had started to rebel against her authority. And now, Calliphe’s former fiancé, Norma Diazi, had reappeared, married to none other than the McFoy head.

Adrienne felt as though her nerves were being scorched to ash for the first time in years.

“Please manipulate the oracle for me, Your Majesty.”

Adrienne shuddered involuntarily as Calliphe’s voice echoed in her mind. She could still recall the audacious plea of the late empress, who had demanded that the oracle be altered to force a union with Norma Diazi.

Calliphe’s unrelenting greed and arrogance had been maddening. Watching her secure the Diazi family’s support had utterly crushed Adrienne’s will to oppose her.

Yet, ironically, it had been Calliphe’s downfall and Adrienne’s resurgence.

Calliphe hadn’t been satisfied with merely clipping Norma Diazi’s wings and keeping him by her side. She wanted his heart as well. The beautiful fiancé, who had done little to provoke her obsession, had unknowingly captured her completely. But Calliphe’s prideful arrogance demanded that his affections be hers.

Unfortunately, Calliphe’s twisted love never reached him. Her fiancé, far from interpreting her possessiveness as love, instead tried to assist a dear friend who harbored feelings for her.

Calliphe’s fury at his indifference burned brightly. Humiliated beyond words, she had turned to forbidden curses in her despair.

‘Calliphe’s death was brought about by her insatiable greed.’

Adrienne repeated the thought in her mind, as though reciting a mantra to suppress the unease bubbling within her. Her features smoothed into a mask-like smile.

“Tell him to wait,” she said at last. “I must prepare myself anew.”