Chapter XXI: Sin and Defilement (Part 1)

Inside the imperial palace, Rezef, the first prince of the empire, approached his bedridden father, the Emperor. Clad in royal attire, Rezef moved with a calculated grace, sitting carefully on the edge of his father's bed. He gazed at the frail figure before him with an expression that exuded sympathy and concern. Tenderly, he touched the Emperor's hand, his fingers gently tracing the papery skin. "Father," he called softly.The prince's face appeared tearful as he looked down at the sickly man. The Emperor, once a robust and commanding presence, now lay emaciated and weak, his body limp and motionless. At the feel of his son's warm touch, he slowly opened his eyes, a flicker of warmth and vulnerability passing through them. "Son, is everything alright?" The Emperor's voice was barely more than a whisper, frail and strained."Father, all I want is for you to recover," Rezef replied, his voice laden with feigned pity. The Emperor managed a weak smile, his eyes filled with gratitude as he tried to sit up. His movements were slow and labored, and Rezef quickly leaned in to assist him. "Father, please, you shouldn't strain yourself. Your body is too weak right now," Rezef cautioned gently.In the corners of the opulent chamber, servants stood silently, holding an incense burner that filled the room with a potent aroma. "Son, you need not worry about my health. I have accepted that my time is nearing an end..." The Emperor's words were cut short by a fit of harsh coughing."Father!" Rezef exclaimed, shooting a glare at the servants. "It must be that incense—it's too strong for you." He turned to the servants and barked, "What are you waiting for? Extinguish it at once and summon the Imperial doctor!"The Emperor weakly patted his son's shoulder in an attempt to calm him. "Rezef, you still have that temper," he chuckled weakly. "But it's heartening to see how much you care for my well-being and how you manage the affairs of the empire as the First Prince."Rezef's grip tightened around his father's hand, his frustration and disbelief barely contained. "I know I shouldn't make you talk much. I feel so incompetent, always coming to you for guidance. Forgive me, Father," he said, lowering his head in a show of humility.The Emperor pulled his son into a frail embrace, speaking gently, "Son, you are doing remarkably well even without my guidance, just like your brother Frederick."Rezef's face briefly twisted into a smirk, his true feelings breaking through his facade. "The Empire will mourn your passing, Father. Please, live a long life," he uttered, the words dripping with insincerity. The atmosphere in the room darkened, the first prince's empty hope hanging in the air like a poisonous cloud."A long, long... life," he repeated, his tone betraying the true darkness of his intentions.Rezef's words hung in the air, a chilling reminder of the hidden ambitions that lurked beneath his veneer of filial piety. The Emperor, too weak to sense the true menace in his son's voice, merely nodded, grateful for the fleeting comfort in his final days.***The night of the banquet had finally begun. Nobles from prestigious families across the empire gathered, filling the grand hall of the Imperial Palace with a brilliant array of lights and animated conversations, marking the significance of the evening. Medea Falaguerra, accompanied by her brother, made their entrance with a grace that commanded attention. Medea's hair was styled in an elegant low bun, adorned with precious ornaments, and she wore a midnight blue gown that hugged her curves, complemented by sparkling sapphire earrings and a matching necklace. Her presence drew the gaze of many, with whispers and murmurs spreading through the crowd."Isn't that Medea Falaguerra? She looks stunning," one noble lady remarked."Indeed, but it must be awkward for her, being here after the end of her engagement with the crown prince," another replied in hushed tones."She loved him dearly, and there's that scandal about her poisoning his new lover..." the first lady added, their conversation a mix of admiration and speculation.Medea, holding a glass of champagne, heard every word of their gossip. She sipped her drink elegantly, her expression unbothered. Humans and their never-ending gossip, she thought, dismissing their chatter. After all, this body wasn't her own; she had little concern for the opinions of these insignificant beings. Her eyes scanned the room, observing the nobles engaged in various conversations—some discussing political affairs, others indulging in social gossip.Her brother, Vincentius, stood prominently among the crowd, embodying the dignity of the Falaguerra and the head of nobles. Medea wondered what it felt like to command such recognition and respect. It must be satisfying, she mused. Her thoughts drifted back to her days as the devil of the modern world, a solitary existence devoid of companionship. Her only duty had been to collect the tainted souls of those she had tempted into sin. It was a lonely life, serving no one but herself, with no one standing by her side.Taking another sip of her champagne, Medea continued to reflect on her past. She remembered the power she wielded, the fear she commanded, and the isolation that came with it. Now, standing among these nobles, she felt a strange detachment. This world of human politics and social maneuvering was different, yet in some ways, it mirrored the manipulation she once reveled in.Her thoughts were soon interrupted by the loud chatter of noble ladies, who were now enthusiastically complimenting someone's appearance."Oh, do you see that gentleman? He looks like a heavenly being who has descended to earth!" exclaimed a lady in a pink dress."This is the first time I've seen him. I wonder which family he belongs to," another lady responded."Should we ask him?" they continued, their voices filled with curiosity and excitement.Medea rolled her eyes, finding their antics tiresome. She turned around to see what the commotion was about and froze momentarily. Her body stiffened, and her mind raced with surprise at the sight before her. Standing silently on the balcony, gazing out into the night while holding a glass of champagne, was an unexpected figure. His appearance was strikingly different this time. He wore white noble clothes adorned with an extravagant mantle. His long silver hair was neatly loose, tucked behind his right ear, and accented with an amethyst earpiece.Caelus Valentine had made an unexpected appearance in public.Medea let out a soft scoff, her brows furrowing slightly. What is he doing here? Could it be that Frederick actually considered my suggestion and invited him? she thought. She placed her glass down and decided to approach him. As she walked past the gossiping ladies, they noticed her movement and gasped."What is she doing? Is she going to harass the poor gentleman?" the lady in pink asked."I don't think that's the case, Tori," the other noble lady replied, watching with keen interest.Medea then finally approached Caelus with an enigmatic smile. "Well, well. Look who's here," she began, her voice dripping with a taunting tone. Her red eyes glistened with intrigue. "Cael."He slowly turned to face her, his features as flawless as a gem carved to perfection. Medea crossed her arms, her thoughts racing. I heard someone say he's like a heavenly being who fell to earth."Medea," Caelus replied, his tone calm and serene, like a still lake.Medea didn't respond immediately, lost in her thoughts. I can't argue with them. It's true after all. She scrutinized his appearance, noting how he seemed to captivate everyone around him effortlessly."Enjoying the view?" she suddenly asked, breaking the silence with a hint of sarcasm.Caelus smiled faintly. "The night is beautiful. Much like the surprises it brings," he replied, his gaze unwavering.Medea felt a mixture of annoyance and fascination. "Surprises, indeed," she echoed. "But I wonder, what brings you here, Cael? This doesn't seem like your usual scene."He chuckled softly. "You could say I'm here at the behest of an invitation. An intriguing one, at that."Medea's eyes narrowed slightly, pondering his words. So, Frederick did invite him. This could be interesting."Well, Cael," she said, her voice softening slightly, "I hope you find the evening as intriguing as your invitation. There's much to see, and many to meet."He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm sure I will. Especially now that you're here."Medea felt a strange thrill at his words, but she quickly masked it with a smirk. "Let's see if the night lives up to its promise," she replied, turning her gaze back to the bustling hall, her mind already calculating the potential outcomes of Caelus's unexpected presence.Afterward, a voice boomed from the right-hand man of the imperial family, loudly announcing the crown prince's arrival. All the nobles' attention, including that of Medea and Caelus, swiftly turned towards the radiant future sun of the empire, Crown Prince Frederick Genovia. He descended the grand staircase with his lover, Elysia, by his side. The couple drew numerous compliments, praised as a match made in heaven—a perfect fairytale couple destined for their own happily ever after.As Medea observed the scene unfolding before her, memories from the past flooded her mind, casting a bitter wave that crashed against her chest, twisting her lips in distaste. "This woman truly loves him," she muttered under her breath, her expression twisted in distaste. Caelus, hearing her words, arched an eyebrow and glanced at her curiously. Without turning to meet his gaze, Medea continued, her voice tinged with resentment, "Her feelings for him still burn brightly, even now. They coexist with mine. It's... irritating."Her eyes remained fixed on Frederick and Elysia, contemplating the turbulent emotions churning within her. Unconsciously, she sensed Caelus crossing his arms beside her, a subtle sign of his own discomfort with her distress. "Perhaps you should stop watching them, or rather, him," he suggested gently, his voice carrying a soothing tone.Medea instinctively followed his advice and averted her gaze, directing it elsewhere. She heard Caelus speak again, this time with a hint of insistence in his tone. "Look at me instead."Turning slightly, Medea regarded him with stubborn skepticism. "And why would I do that?" she scoffed, her defiance clear in her voice. Caelus responded with a nonchalant shrug, his demeanor calm and composed. "Maybe because I'm a heavenly being who fell to earth?" She turned to face him, her expression a blend of a glare and reluctant intrigue. His casual remark had struck a nerve, inviting her to confront the underlying emotions she had long buried beneath layers of disdain and detachment."So, am I comforting to look at?" Caelus asked, his head tilted slightly, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. Medea's glare intensified, yet there was an undeniable flicker of intrigue in her eyes that betrayed her annoyance. She despised how effortlessly he seemed to influence her, how his words could steer her emotions with such precision. Caelus, perceptive as ever, studied her reaction before continuing with a teasing tone, "Have I wounded your pride, perhaps?"His question lingered in the air, and Medea found herself pondering. Maybe that was it—her wounded ego, her pride stung by his ability to provoke such emotions within her. She felt so irked because he had a way of getting under her skin and stirring feelings she struggled to understand, just like how her heart skipped a beat when he'd demanded her to look at him earlier.Exhaling sharply, Medea decided to turn the tables on him. "And what about you, Cael? Aren't you contradicting yourself by trying to charm me?" she retorted, her tone laced with sarcasm.Caelus blinked in genuine confusion. "Charm you? When did I ever do that?" he asked, his curiosity genuine and his expression innocent. Medea deadpanned, incredulous. Is he serious?Medea let out a resigned sigh, thoroughly exasperated with Caelus's playful demeanor. Internally shaking her head, she muttered to herself, Forget it. Let's just focus on something else. Determinedly, she tried to clear her mind, redirecting her thoughts away from the enigmatic man beside her.However, just as she attempted to regain her composure, her attention was unwittingly drawn to a nearby group of nobles conversing among themselves. Their voices carried across the bustling hall, discussing the Emperor's absence and his health. "I wonder how the Emperor's health is holding up. It's unfortunate he couldn't attend the crown prince's birthday," one noble lamented, prompting murmurs of agreement from the others. "I had hoped to catch a glimpse of His Majesty. His presence would have been truly grand."Medea blinked, unintentionally eavesdropping on their conversation. "The Emperor, huh?" she whispered to herself, her gaze instinctively flickering to a distinguished figure across the room. A man with blond hair, exuding an aura of royalty, stood beside an elderly woman seated upon a throne—a woman whose noble attire marked her unmistakably as the Empress of the Empire. He held a glass of wine in his left hand, his right positioned behind him with composed elegance.She observed him with keen interest as he brought the glass to his lips, savoring the wine with calculated precision. A faint, lingering smirk played across his lips as he lowered the glass, an imperceptible hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. Medea's own eyes widened as realization dawned, a knowing glint sparking within her red irises."I see, So that's how it is," Medea murmured softly to herself, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.