Chapter 9: Royal Court Banquet

The welcome banquet held for Sylvia was terrifyingly extravagant.

The entire Silent Court was brightly lit.

Nobles of the Thirteen Clans gathered together in one grand hall.

Ghostly blue soul flames replaced the candlelight, illuminating every pale face, their features sharp and expressions varied.

Sylvia sat to the left of Queen Ophelia.

Avira was right beside her, almost pressed against her.

She felt as if she wasn’t attending a banquet at all—but walking onto the execution grounds.

The ancient monsters around her, some hundreds or even thousands of years old, each gaze laden with scrutiny and assessment.

Curiosity, greed, jealousy, disdain.

These emotions wove an invisible net that pressed down on her chest, nearly suffocating her.

She just wanted to find a crack in the floor to crawl into, or simply faint on the spot and be done with it.

“Sylvia, try this.”

Avira placed a small piece of roasted Blood-red Venison on her plate, her tone filled with her unique, nervous excitement.

“It was caught in the Emerald Whisper Forest, raised by the Elves—the meat is especially tender.”

Sylvia’s stomach rebelled.

She lowered her head and whispered like a faint mosquito:

“Thank you, sister. I’m not hungry right now.”

“Not hungry?”

Avira frowned.

That simple change in expression

felt like the temperature around Sylvia dropped several degrees.

Fear gripped her in an instant.

She hurriedly picked up her fork, stabbed the piece of meat, and stiffly shoved it into her mouth.

Fortunately, the taste wasn’t gamey. Instead, it carried a strange herbal fragrance.

Seeing her eat, Avira’s face brightened again, and she enthusiastically continued serving her dishes.

The atmosphere of the entire banquet was eerie.

Nobles whispered in low tones, careful not to make a sound loud enough to be overheard.

Everyone’s eyes, whether consciously or not, flicked toward the throne.

Queen Ophelia remained expressionless, elegantly cutting the food on her plate, indifferent to everything around her.

But Sylvia’s warrior instincts were screaming alarms.

Beneath this calm surface, dark currents roiled.

Sure enough.

After several rounds of wine, an old Blood-kin, his hair and beard pure white and his face as stern and fossilized as stone, stood up, leaning on a bone scepter.

He strode straight to the center of the hall, ignoring everyone.

His gaze locked unblinkingly on Ophelia’s throne.

“Your Majesty.”

His hoarse voice carried clearly throughout the hall.

Sylvia noticed that the moment he rose, at least a dozen Blood-kin nobles around showed knowing expressions.

This was planned.

“Elder Mephist.”

Ophelia did not look up; her voice betrayed no emotion.

“I have a question.”

Elder Mephist planted his scepter on the ground—thud.

The muffled sound made hearts tremble.

“May I ask, Your Majesty, where exactly did this Second Princess come from?”

She came.

Sylvia’s heart skipped a beat.

She knew she was the target.

“Her birth violates every ancient law of the Blood-kin lineage.”

Elder Mephist’s voice rose, carrying an undisguised accusation.

“The royal bloodline of the Blood-kin is the foundation of the Empire’s continuation—holy and pure, not to be defiled!”

“To my knowledge, this Princess carries the soul of a lowly human!”

Boom.

The words exploded like thunder over the heads of all nobles.

Every face changed.

Though it was an open secret, no one dared speak so bluntly in front of the queen.

This was not merely doubt.

This was a slap to the queen’s face.

“Your Majesty, isn’t it reckless to elevate such a mysterious existence to the rank of Imperial Princess?”

“For the everlasting foundation of the Empire, for the purity of the royal bloodline, I beseech Your Majesty to give the Thirteen Clans an explanation!”

Having spoken, Elder Mephist raised his bone scepter high.

“I demand a public Bloodline Origin Inspection for the Second Princess!”

“To verify her identity and reassure the people!”

The hall fell into complete silence.

Everyone’s eyes turned toward the throne.

This was a long-anticipated challenge from the conservatives to the queen’s authority.

And Sylvia was the stone they threw to test the queen’s limits.

Cold sweat coated Sylvia’s palms, and her entire body trembled faintly.

She knew she was merely a pawn.

If Ophelia chose to sacrifice her to quell the anger, she would be powerless to resist.

At that moment, she wouldn’t just lie flat and be a salted fish; she might be dissected on the spot for study.

What to do?

What to do?

Her mind went blank.

Yet, on the throne, Ophelia continued dining leisurely.

She cut a small piece of the blood-red jelly, placed it in her mouth, savoring it carefully.

As if Elder Mephist’s accusations were no more than a few chirping insects outside the window.

The queen’s silence made Elder Mephist’s expression sour, but it also emboldened his supporters behind him.

Just as the atmosphere in the hall froze to a near-ice point,

a delighted giggle suddenly rang out.

“Heehee.”

It was Avira.

She had somehow put down her utensils and now rested her chin on one hand, watching the old man at the center of the hall with interest.

Her gaze was not that of reverence for a venerable clan elder—

but of amusement at a clown who had jumped onto the stage of his own accord.

“Elder Mephist.”

Avira stood up, playing with a delicate Pure Silver Dining Knife in her hand, the tip dancing nimbly between her slender fingers.

Her voice was soft but pierced everyone’s ears like an ice pick.

“Do you mean to say that my mother’s decision requires your approval?”

Elder Mephist’s face darkened, gripping his scepter tighter.

“Your Highness, you misunderstand.”

He refused to yield, staring directly into Avira’s eyes burning with madness.

“I speak only to protect the Empire’s everlasting foundation and the purity of its bloodline.”

“An existence with unknown origins could bring unforeseen disaster to the Empire.”

“This is something every loyal Blood-kin should be concerned about.”

His words sounded grand and righteous.

Many nobles showed signs of agreement.

Bloodline was the most valued thing in Blood-kin society—

and the conservatives’ greatest trump card.

Sylvia’s heart sank.

She felt the argument was already sealed. This trial today would be harsh.

Reason?

Argue with these stubborn old men?

No matter how strong mother and sister were, they couldn’t shut everyone’s mouths.

***

However, Avira’s reaction once again surpassed everyone’s expectations.

She didn’t debate, nor did she refute.

She simply tilted her head and smiled innocently.

Then she asked a question to a Viscount standing nearby.

“Hey, you there.”

She pointed the knife tip at the unlucky Viscount.

“You, come here.”

The Viscount froze, then cautiously approached Avira, bowing deeply.

“Your Highness.”

“I ask you.”

Avira’s smile grew even brighter.

“According to the Law of the Empire, what punishment is prescribed for those who question the queen’s rulings?”

The Viscount’s face instantly drained of color.

He glanced at Avira in terror, then quickly lowered his head, trembling.

The temperature in the banquet hall suddenly plummeted.

If Elder Mephist’s question was an ice cellar,

Avira’s now was like lighting a fuse to a powder keg inside that ice cellar.

Everyone realized that the Second Princess had no intention of “reasoning.”

Elder Mephist’s face darkened immensely.

He had not expected Avira to be so direct, so merciless.

“R-Your Highness…”

The Viscount’s voice trembled, his teeth chattering uncontrollably.

“According to the Supreme Code of the Empire, Volume Three, Article Seven…

“Those who question, defy, or attempt to undermine any of Her Majesty the Queen’s rulings…”

He paused, seemingly unable to utter the final word.

“Speak.”

Avira’s tone remained cheerful, but that one word carried the weight of crushing everything.

The Viscount shuddered, closed his eyes, and summoned all his strength to hoarsely shout:

“…their punishment…is death!”

The last two words echoed through the vast hall.

Each syllable struck deep into every noble’s heart.

Death.

Execution.

The entire banquet hall fell utterly silent.

At that moment, Avira’s smile shone brighter than ever.

She turned her head and looked again at Elder Mephist standing in the center of the hall, his face ashen.

“Elder, did you hear that?”