The Imperial Palace was vast and complicated.
The golden shimmering marble was indeed dazzling and extravagant, as one would expect.
However, as similar corridors and similar-looking servants passed by, it became impossible to tell whether this was a place previously visited or the first time here. I could only follow behind the steward, tailing her like a puppy.
Pastel felt as if she had entered a tiger’s mouth as her pink eyes spun around.
Ugh.
Ughh.
Where are you, my demon?
Shouldn’t you be beside me at a time like this?
The demon, being a servant for now, had immediately been cut off at the entrance. Naturally, the flustered expression of the demon, who had tried to enter the palace with her but was stopped by the steward, was still fresh in her mind.
—What?
Hah.
—Are you saying you can’t protect me, demon?!
That’s right!
Exactly!
—Wait a moment. Steward, you haven’t retired yet. It’s been over ten years, so it might be hard for you to remember faces, but think carefully. Do you remember who I am?
The demon was casting the ‘You know me, right?’ spell.
With that boldness, Pastel’s heart raced.
I want to be a powerful figure like this!
—Demonious, of course, I remember you. Though I may be of advanced age, my wisdom in remembering distinguished individuals remains unaffected.
Perfect effect!
—But on a different note, it is also my duty to differentiate statuses and ranks. Today is not your day, so please come again next time.
Effect zero…
—No.
The demon was ineffectively chased away.
Innocent Pastel was left all alone.
Waaah!
You said you’d protect me, demon!
You liar! Liar!
You fool who can’t even keep a promise!
Pastel trembled.
The servants, with no regard for her, passed by with blank expressions while the pink-haired girl was guided by the steward. It was somewhat frightening. It wasn’t that they lacked emotions, but the solemn rules seemed to transcend personal feelings.
No one is even giving me a glance.
This indifference is a first for someone popular like me.
The environment and atmosphere were too dissonant.
Honestly, while I can understand jealousy and criticism, this indifference feels too strange.
Would I call it scary or eerie? In reality, this can’t be happening, yet without a single gaze coming my way, I started to suspect maybe I was having a nightmare.
Pastel stuck out her pink tongue and nibbled on it with her front teeth. Tears pooled in her pink eyes.
It hurts!
I miscalculated my strength…!
This wasn’t a dream.
Shaking her tongue, marked with bite marks, she wiped her eyes.
This was reality. The indifferent servants passing by were not ghosts.
How are they managing to suppress their urge to look at me?
Totally professional.
I feel a sense of respect.
But, but.
Please show some interest!
This mechanical atmosphere is too frightening!
“Viscount Craft, this is the banquet hall—”
“Wha—! Yes! I’m a viscount!”
Pastel startled and replied.
The elderly steward, who had stopped to explain with gestures, smiled gently.
Then, as if she hadn’t seen the young viscount’s embarrassing history, she resumed her explanation calmly.
“This is the banquet hall.”
Whaaat.
Pastel regained her composure, her cheeks slightly reddened.
While listening to the explanation, she looked ahead and saw a long dining table beyond the immense main door. Golden candlesticks lined up, their candles flickering.
As she shifted her gaze along the row of chairs, she noticed the head seat where the emperor would sit. Although there was no owner at the seat, unlike the places arranged to face each other, the solitary arrangement facing the main door seemed to indicate status.
The heavy atmosphere left Pastel breathless.
Ugh.
Ughh.
I should’ve listened to Melisa!
I should’ve refused and just come with Melisa!
Dining one-on-one with the emperor in this kind of atmosphere would surely make me choke…!
The steward, having finished her explanation with no one listening, guided Pastel to the seat. It was the chair right next to the head seat.
Pastel sat quietly in a chair that felt overly large for her small frame. Her pink eyes wandered aimlessly. Her small hands fiddled with the hem of her white dress.
“She has ordered you to begin your meal as soon as your schedule allows.”
“Excuse me? What?”
The steward bowed her head and left.
“Wait?!”
Hello?!
Pastel was left alone in the banquet hall. The candles flickered without wind.
The girl slowly became tearful.
“Excuse me…?”
Dining alone without the host at the banquet.
I didn’t want to experience this!
As Pastel waited, shrunk in her chair, a line of servants entered one by one, each carrying dishes.
The dishes were elegantly placed on the banquet table one by one. It didn’t take long for the table to fill with a variety of colorful dishes from end to end.
Once the setting was complete, the servants lined up against the walls. With their hands modestly clasped at their abdomen, their eyes respectfully lowered to the ground, they embodied mechanical discipline itself.
Pastel became tearful for a completely different reason than before.
Why are you doing this to me…?
Her pink eyes trembled as they landed on the roasted turkey right in front of her. Juicy oil flowed down its brown surface. Steam rose from the well-cut flesh, inviting and appetizing.
Pastel swallowed hard. She glanced around, trying to see if there was anyone to meet her gaze, but finding no one, she carefully opened her mouth.
“Um, can I eat…?”
Her voice was as tiny as an ant’s.
There was no answer.
Pastel stared intensely at the turkey, deep in thought.
As time passed, the steam from the turkey gradually decreased to a faint vapor.
Pastel grabbed a fork with trembling hands.
“Um, can I eat…?”
No answer came. The lined-up servants remained silent.
The fork trembled as it moved towards the turkey.
Then, the path shifted shyly to the salad beside it. A cherry tomato was skewered.
Pastel proudly raised the cherry tomato on her fork for all to see.
The cherry tomato gleamed brilliantly.
“I, I really am going to eat it.”
There was no response.
Pastel took a deep breath and placed the cherry tomato in her mouth.
Nom.
Chew, chew.
The tomato crunched pleasantly. Fresh and tangy flavor spread in her mouth.
Ohhh.
Pastel’s pink eyes widened.
This, this is it.
The best cherry tomato of my life!
It’s a perfect product with the highest flavors and freshness, as if it were just picked from a garden…!
Moved, she hurriedly moved her fork again. She skewered another cherry tomato and popped it into her mouth.
This is also the best cherry tomato of my life!
Yum yum!
I’m so glad I came to the Imperial Palace!
If the cherry tomatoes taste this good, how delicious will everything else be?!
Until now, I thought the demon’s cooking was the best in the world, but the gap between fresh ingredients created by capital and power can’t be bridged by cooking skills alone!
Demon, I’m sorry!
From now on, my top chef will be the royal chef!
With a taste this good, I can endure being invited to a terrifying meal right after provoking the emperor’s displeasure or being humiliated by dining alone without a host!
You’re not inviting me under the pretense of reconciliation just to poison me; you’re genuinely serving me the best meal of my life!
Long live the emperor!
Long live!
While Pastel continued to eat cherry tomatoes, she suddenly felt a wave of rejection rising from deep within her. Her chest heaved, and she coughed up bl**d.
“Huh?”
bl**d dripped from her lips.
Pastel’s pink eyes trembled.
Poisoning.
Poisoning…!
A shiver ran down her spine. Drops of red bl**d stained the white tablecloth. bl**d trickled along the gold patterns of the plate.
Her hands trembled violently.
Aahhh!
Help me!
Help me!
I’m not objectively guilty of anything!
Her chest tightened. A stream of bl**d flowed. Her strength drained away, and the fork fell to the ground with a clang.
The sound of the fork echoed in the banquet hall.
Pastel, struggling to clutch the armrests of her chair, managed to stand.
Run!
Run…!
Then, her strength left her, and she collapsed. The chair she had collided with fell over, causing a noise. Her bloodied white dress spilled over the marble.
Some of the bowed servants stole glances. Their eyes widened in shock. Confusion spread rapidly.
“Your Grace?!”
The noisy footsteps rushed towards Pastel, who was trembling on the ground. Hands reached out to support her.
“Your Grace! Are you alright?!”
Barely lifting her upper body, Pastel trembled. Struggling to speak through her pale lips, she managed to utter her last word.
“P-poisoning by the emperor.”
Screams erupted following the witness’s testimony. Although her profession was that of a servant, her status was that of a noble lady in polite society.
Tears flowed from Pastel’s eyes as her consciousness faded.
This is too much, too much.
I didn’t do anything that wrong…!
If this is how it ends, I’ll make sure everyone knows that it was a poisoning even a tyrant wouldn’t do!
I’ll see if there’s truly no noble faction among these servants to spread the truth throughout high society…!
“Your Grace! Viscount Craft!”
Something rolled out from the trembling girl’s arms.
It was a cylindrical pepper shaker.
A powder of magic stones rattled inside it.
Eh.
Pastel paused.
Her pink eyes grew rounder.
“To think you would poison nobility, something even the former emperor wouldn’t do!”
The devoted steward exclaimed in anger.
Then, she threw off her uncomfortable shoes, risking her life to spread the news, and dashed out.
Wait! Wait a minute…!
The noble faction servant’s figure quickly disappeared.
Aahhh!
In her poor state and now shocked, Pastel felt her mind slowly clouding.
She grabbed the hem of the steward’s garment with difficulty.
“Tell everyone! I’ll relay it to all!”
The steward cried, tears streaming down.
Her pale lips barely opened.
“Magic stones, pepper…”
Her head drooped.
Thud.
Screams filled the air.
Viscount Craft is poisoned at the banquet invited by the emperor.
