Do Flowers Bloom in the Fallen Land?

The appearance of Baron Jeff and Seira attracted many eyes. It was not only because of the unexpected combination, but also the fact that it was Seira’s first ball. She was the last bloodline of Askan, and her presence was as much of a spectacle as that of the fact she hadn’t manifested yet.

Invitations to the ball held at the Imperial Palace were usually sent to a select few senior nobles and their successors above the Marquis rank. The Emperor despised immature Alphas and Omegas who couldn’t completely control their pheromones.

She was the last of a pure bloodline, yet someone who hasn’t manifested. That being said, Seira was stuck in the middle of it all.

The first person to approach and greet Seira was Philias, the Duke of Franto’s family head. Heirs who have not yet come of age, and their spouses who were not from high-ranking noble families remained unaccompanied.

“It’s been a while, Seira. How have you been?” Philias greeted her.

Even though he was well past his forties, the beauty of the pure-blooded Omega remained flawless. His hair that flowed past down his waist was bright blonde, whereas his eyes were those of turquoise, reminiscent of lush greeneries.

The truth was, Philias was the last to see her face when she moved to the Imperial Palace some eight years ago. Being previously harassed by Baron Jeff because she couldn’t remember what happened nine years ago, Seira hesitated for a moment but then politely greeted Philias in return.

“Hello, Prince Franto. Thank you so much for your concern, I am well,” she said with a forced smile.

Philias gave her a once-over from head to toe, observing her with cunning eyes. She considered the act rude as it is, but Seira endured the gaze quietly.

Because she wasn’t really paying much attention to Philias and the others, Seira was unaware that the majority of the people inside the ballroom were measuring her by looking at her the same way Philias did.

Now she was the only person who hasn’t manifested yet. By analogy, she was nothing more but a wild card.

If Calrad had been present, such blatant eyes would have been nonexistent. But alas, he was not around today, and Seira who had long been trained as the prospective Crown Princess, bit her tongue and held back her displeasure in silence.

Sensing the strange atmosphere, Baron Jeff pulled Seira’s arm that was entwined with his toward him. Her eyes, which were previously glued to the floor, lifted awkwardly to look at him. Baron’s eyes twinkled and the corners of his mouth lifted.

“Don’t be like this at the entrance. Go inside. It’s almost time for His Majesty to enter,” he said to Philias.

Originally thinking she’d come with Calrad, Seira and Baron were the last of the nobles to arrive at the ballroom because she was late to finish her preparations. Before the Emperor entered the hall, it was customary for everyone to move and stand at their designated places.

“Yes, since this is your first, I’ll tell you where to sit. Come here,” Philias waved them inside.

After noticing Baron’s intentions, Philias turned around and gave her a brief smile. Seira carefully pulled out her hand trapped in Baron’s arm, and then quietly followed Philias.

In the innermost part of the ballroom was a platform with two throne seats. Next to it, a door that was solely for members of the imperial family was about to open.

Seira stood by Philias and Baron as her attention veered towards the place closest to the podium.

To Seira who had never even gone out to the palace garden without Calrad to accompany her, ten minutes in the ballroom just felt excruciatingly too long. Her only consolation was the thought that Calrad would come out and call her by his side soon.

“His Majesty and the Crown Prince will now enter! Be prepared!”

With the cry of the valet, Emperor Laud of Viseltium entered the ballroom. Of course, Calrad was with him, too.

But who followed them after were unexpected characters.

“…The High Priest and the Saint?” Baron muttered under his voice; disbelief evident in the frown on his face.

High Priest McClane and Saint Isabel were following the Emperor and the Crown Prince. Even if they were not members of the imperial family and entered through the inner door because they served the Emperor, it was still strange for them to follow up to the podium.

However, the murmurs and whispers inside the hall turned silent the instant that the Emperor stood at the center of the platform, just in front of the throne. Seira followed the other nobles and honored the masters of the empire.

Then suddenly, she felt a strong gaze pierce through her.

Seira raised her head immediately thinking it could be Calrad. But instead of her fiance, Seira made direct eye contact with McClane, the High Priest.

‘Why is he looking at me like that?’ she thought silently at the back of her head.

It was a different gaze from that of pure curiosity, which had been pouring more often in the recent years. His eyes were shiny like that of a snake watching his coveted prey driven into the corner. Even though the High Priest had no reason to look at her that much, it was too horrible of a stare to be considered by chance only.

He deliberately was looking at Seira.

Seira whipped her head away as if to shake off the creepy feeling that the High Priest’s gaze gave her. She looked at Calrad instead, who was standing just behind the Emperor.

But then again, he seemed to be strange as well. Calrad’s face was too stiff to be announcing anything about their wedding anytime soon. He couldn’t even give her a smile.

By the time that the unexpected anxiety crawled under Seira’s skin and constricted her heart, the Emperor opened his mouth and spoke.