The Eldest Daughter Walks Down The Flower Path - Chapter 256

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Chapter 256

Translator: Yonnee

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The emperor turned his gaze to the banquet hall.

Under the chandelier’s light, the nobles of the Velleius faction and the moderates were gathered, enjoying the festivities.

They outnumbered the Iziad faction and were not in a hurry.

They knew the emperor’s reign would soon end, and that day wasn’t far off. They felt no need to prove their loyalty to the aging emperor.

He knew they looked at him like a dying beast, ready to pounce on his carcass the moment he fell. He could easily imagine the nobles scrambling to divide his abundant remains.

‘Hyenas…!’

The emperor swept the room with hateful eyes.

Then he noticed a group of people.

There was Radis Tilrod, the problematic knight, and her young patron, Marquis Russell.

Alongside them were the new master Robert, the clever Elizabeth Ruthwell, and his third son, Olivier.

They were young, beautiful, and glowing with brilliant potential.

Just like he once was in his youth.

“……!”

The emperor’s hand gripped the armrest tightly. The rings on his fingers dug into his plump flesh, causing sharp pain.

He recalled something Charles had said to him a few days ago.

“Your Majesty, my loyal brother has agreed to marry a girl from an insignificant family for my sake. I intend to honor his noble gesture.”

His foolish eldest son, Charles, seemed utterly convinced that Radis Tilrod was just a worthless, ordinary girl, merely based on her family.

While the emperor felt a slight pity for his dull successor, he had no intention of passing the throne to Gabriel or Olivier, who were infatuated with lowly wenches.

He still believed he embodied the empire.

This empire was his garden, cultivated with his blood and sweat, watered and nurtured throughout his lifetime.

He was someone who wished to take the entire empire with him to the grave, to be purified with everything in sacred flames and ascend to the land of the gods.

However, that was impossible.

Instead, he wanted the empire to suffer in his absence for a long time, to remember him.

‘If it can’t be mine forever, then it doesn’t matter what happens to it.’

The emperor of the empire realized that the moment had come to make a decision he had long postponed.

The emperor stood up from his seat, his heavy body rising.

“On this joyous occasion, I have decided to make an important announcement for the future of the Empire. It concerns the marriages of my sons who will lead the nation.”

At his words, the crowd’s attention instantly focused on him. A delighted smile spread across the emperor’s lips.

He felt intense pleasure from the greedy eyes fixed on him, eyes that said he was still at the pinnacle of power.

‘I need a new source of power.’

He had grasped it firmly in his hands. But ultimately, everything slipped through his fingers.

He realized that it was time to let go.

By letting go, he would become even stronger.

The emperor raised his hand and declared.

“After much consideration, I have chosen a suitable bride for my third son, Olivier Arpend, the Third Prince of the Empire.”

Even from a distance, he could feel Olivier’s transparent gaze upon him.

Once, he had fallen deeply for a beautiful woman with the same violet eyes.

“I want to have a son.”

Ziartine’s eyes had a strange look of expectation as she said those words. The young Emperor looked down at his beloved and asked,

“Why?”

Ziartine smiled and whispered,

“Because that child will be your successor.”

Hearing her words, Claude Arpend realized that the emperor or the empress, either one of them, was a monster disguised in a beautiful shell.

Ziartine might have been a monster sent by the Pelletier family, who sought to usurp the throne.

Or perhaps he was a madman who couldn’t trust even his most beloved out of fear of losing the throne.

Looking back, he had known the answer all along.

But he had been young and arrogant at the time.

He chose sweet deception over the bitter truth.

He handed a goblet of infertility potion to the only woman he had ever loved, the beautiful Ziartine, and said,

“If that is what you wish.”

The suffering she endured afterward was a result of his distrust and madness.

Ziartine, bearing the repercussions of the mistake of loving him, withered like a rose in a glass jar and became his forever, an incomplete immortal love.

‘Olivier Arpend, you are the son born of my distrust and madness. You deserve as much glory and misery as I have had.’

The now-old, monstrous emperor declared.

“By imperial decree, I hereby announce the engagement of Third Imperial Prince Olivier Arpend to Elizabeth Ruthwell.”