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The Escalante Manor hadn't hosted such a grand banquet in years. Ostensibly, it was to commemorate the victory over La Bocia and to support the naval forces, who were finally set to land on the Las Sandiago islands. Yet the event felt somewhat redundant, given that the emperor's court had already held lavish celebrations for every victory report sent to Mendoza. In that sense, the capital had already done its fair share of 'commemorating' and 'supporting.' Many aristocrats attended the palace festivities not only out of duty but with the hope of becoming inebriated and perhaps spending the night with a pretty stranger. No one scorned them, for it was known that the emperor himself spent his days much the same way, using the constant flow of victory reports as his excuse.

The purpose of the current banquet, however, was fundamentally different. Inés watched with a satisfied smile as Juan stepped down from the podium. She had made sure the duke's signature graced the invitations instead of Isabella's, also arranging for him to make a brief appearance in front of the guests. While this alone could have sufficed, she had figured there was no reason not to perfect her plan further. Fortunately, Juan's condition had improved just enough for him to address the guests. While he was noticeably pale and gaunt after months of being bedridden, his tall, broad frame-an inheritance from his bloodline-made him appear even healthier than the emperor. Now, nobody would dare to whisper of Juan's death, a rumor that had been circulating in Mendoza ever since the ceremony that had marked the beginning of the war. Everyone knew that he was in poor health, as he had been living in seclusion for the past several months, and Inés knew there was no reason to satisfy her foes by trying to deny it.

"Only if Isabella were here to see this," she muttered, glancing at Miguel.

"Agreed. I missed seeing Father like this. I'm sure Mother would been overjoyed as well."

He responded with awe in his voice. He seemed to think that she was only referring to the sight of Juan standing on the podium, but her words encompassed so much more. She spoke of Cayetana, who couldn't take her eyes off her brother like some kind of mutt hovering around a stranger. There was also Oscar, whose eyes were lifeless and dark like a swamp as he stared at Inés.

The reason she hadn't taken action to subdue the rumors about Juan's death wasn't that she intended to eventually reveal Oscar's attempted assassination of his own uncle, a man who had been like a father to him. In fact, she would silence anybody who knew of it. She had no desire for anybody to be interested in Oscar's eventual demise. There could be no evidence of ill relations between the crown prince and Escalante. It would be truly dangerous if people formed a link between Oscar's fate and the 'hatred' that Escalante held for him. After all, the first person to be suspected when a man was found stabbed to death was the one he had been indebted to.

Revealing the entire truth was not always in one's best interest. She firmly believed her actions were for the greater good.

Of course, Oscar's condition had deteriorated far more swiftly than what she and Luciano had anticipated. Even now, he appeared vacant and slow -there were no signs to suggest that he was mulling over his own crimes or anxiously thinking of the rumors that may be circulating.

Cayetana, on the other hand... She recalled the violent fit the empress had thrown upon hearing the rumors of Juan's death, crying through the entire evening and berating her brother for not showing himself to her.

"Tell me that Juan is perfectly fine, Inés. He is simply angry at me, I know it... But how could he do such a heartless thing to me? How? We are the only children of Admiral Calderon. We only have each other!" Her words of resentment and anger had circled back to anxiety every single time. "He cannot be ill. Tell me it is not so... It cannot be some fatal illness. Tell me that he is only irate..."

Inés had only given her a series of ambiguous answers, imagining the moment when her worry-ridden face would twist in shock upon realizing that her own son had tried to kill her beloved brother several times.

Perhaps the rest of the world was ignorant to it, but Inés knew exactly how Cayetana functioned. Although the empress acted like her love for Oscar was unconditional, she would most certainly abandon him when she reached her breaking point. She was incapable of concealing the shame she felt for her son, just as she hadn't been able to at the end of one of Inés's lifetimes. Now, Inés would ensure that Cayetana had no escape, no place to hide.

Ignoring Oscar's intent gaze on her face, she turned her smile toward Miguel, who was accompanying her in Cárcel's place. He looked slightly tense, which was understandable-he had not made a public appearance in a long time, not to mention that Juan was now out of sight as he conversed with the members of the Imperial Council. Perhaps such a large banquet was still too much for him to handle despite the significant progress he had made. Inés linked their arms together and led him over to a table laden with food.

"But, Father..." Miguel began to protest, but she shushed him.

"Luciano is nearby. I'm sure he will be fine even if you step away for a moment."

He nodded slightly and followed, occasionally shielding her from the crowd with his arm despite the anxiety that vibrated through his limbs. It was a habit he had developed from being around his mother and betrothed, who were both much smaller in stature.

She directed a conflicted gaze at his tense face, then gently patted his arm. "You resemble him in so many ways," she mused quietly.

At this, Miguel glanced down at her with a slightly confused smile. "Resemble who?"

"Your brother."

"Is that meant to be a compliment?"

"Of course it is."

When a servant handed her a plate with a few slices of steak, Inés forced Miguel to hold it, dismissing his protests by saying that it was for herself. Upon taking a single bite, however, she began to shove the remaining pieces in his mouth with the fork as if she were feeding a child. Miguel's impassive face turned red as his eyes darted around. It probably didn't help that the banquet hall was filled with young lords. He desperately looked at Inés as if trying to say that her actions were completely inappropriate, but her eyes were completely shameless, telling him that she was fully aware of his embarrassment and was planning on taking advantage of it. Of course, it made sense that she didn't think much of it-she had developed a habit of forcing his lips open and feeding him whenever he was vacantly lying on his bed.

If it had been Cárcel, he wouldn't have hesitated to shove him away. However, Inés was much too fragile, and it was obvious that she knew it too. She even leaned closer to whisper threateningly, "You are not going to hurt me, and I'm not going anywhere until you put all this food down your throat. If you want to avoid causing a scene... you know what to do."

"This doesn't seem very fair," Miguel muttered glumly.

"I have no idea what you mean."

"You said you were hungry, did you not?"

"Is that shame I hear in your voice? Perhaps you will benefit from simply eating the food, then."

He took the entire piece of steak into his mouth as if he had just realized that she had a good point, then barely chewed it before swallowing. She clicked her tongue and held up another slice to his lips.

He scarfed it down again and held up a hand to cover his flushed face. "Dear Lord, this is humiliating... Here, I can eat it myself."

Inés placed the fork down on the plate with a shrug, and he picked it up to desperately finish the steak.

"I hope you are satisfied," he muttered.

"You haven't eaten anything all day. How do you expect to be able to focus when your stomach is empty?"

"I was not hungry."

"Your opinion does not matter. Your body requires sustenance." Her words were cold yet caring.

She silently glanced at the servant, prompting him to prepare another plate for her. Miguel stared at the new plate with a mixture of dismay and resignation, then chuckled softly under his breath.

"You must follow in your brother's footsteps if you wish to return to El Ledequilla. He has never skipped breakfast in his life."

He shook his head. "Cárcel and I are two different-"

"You agreed to stand in his place," she reminded him.

"Yes. That is why I always follow your-"

"In order to fill his spot in his absence, you must first become healthy," she said sternly as she stole a slice of orange from his plate.

Miguel sighed, thinking about how nonthreatening she looked while chewing on the orange, then turned around at the sound of loud gunfire.

Over in the main hall, they were in the process of showcasing the new firearms produced by an arms manufacturer sponsored by the emperor. The intent behind the brief event was obvious-they wanted the young lords in attendance to purchase the products. It was something that the emperor would never do in his own palace, fearing it would taint his honor, but Inés had gladly included it to appease him.

In the other hall that was located behind a thick door, they were hosting a bazar targeting both the lords and ladies-a fundraising effort to send more supplies to the battlefield.

She knew fully well that it would be the ladies who would truly determine how the money was spent. They were likely plotting how they could make their family name shine by using the budget they had carefully negotiated with their husbands. Meanwhile, the lords were admiring the new firearms as if their funds were infinite.

Isabella, who was currently overseeing the other hall, had assigned Inés to the one overflowing with young lords, claiming that neither her husband nor son were in a fit state. While Inés fully agreed, the fact that she was the only woman standing in a sea of men was attracting far too much attention. Miguel occasionally made an effort to step in front of her to shield her from Oscar's vile gaze, but it was only a temporary solution. At this rate, she wouldn't be surprised if someone realized where Oscar's attention lay-of course, it would only serve to further her plan.

She smiled when she realized Miguel had stepped in front of her once again. "You can be quite adorable sometimes."

He gritted his teeth. "He's like a leech... I truly think you should go over to the other hall and join my mother."

"How thoughtful of you. Would you like one of those guns for yourself?"

"It's all right. I can sneak a gun or two from Cárcel's armory."

"Indeed, but receiving one that somebody intentionally purchased for you is special." Inés smiled to herself, recalling a fourteen-year-old Cárcel and the admiral's hunting rifle that had been re-gifted to her. The idea of gifting something to Miguel pleased her-it felt like a way of repaying his younger self, even though that was impossible. "You will find happiness again, Miguel."

He blinked, visibly caught off guard. "Well... Thank you."

She inclined her head elegantly. "Now I shall go and make my purchase."