The massive palace gates slowly opened before the Kyros carriage.
Rows of imperial knights stood perfectly aligned on both sides, silver armor gleaming beneath the afternoon sunlight. Their expressions remained disciplined and composed right until the Kyros crest became fully visible. Then the atmosphere subtly changed.
Fear, respect, and tension all hung in the air the name Kyros meant something here. Something entirely different.
The carriage rolled forward smoothly through layers of magical barriers woven directly into the palace entrance. Amos’s dragon eyes instinctively activated again for half a second and he nearly recoiled.
“Good lord.”
The entire Imperial Palace was literally glowing. Layers upon layers of enchantments coated its walls like a massive web of mana—defensive formations, surveillance spells, ancient wards. Every pillar, corridor, and gate pulsed with such overwhelming magical energy that his eyes actually ached.
Lord Aros spoke calmly without looking at him.
“Control your eyes.”
“I’m trying.”
Beside him, Ambrosia straightened slightly as the carriage came to a halt. Outside, attendants bustled into action. A servant swung open the carriage door, and the moment sunlight spilled in.
Lord Aros stepped out first.
And the surrounding noise died instantly.
Conversations nearby lowered.
Several nobles standing near the entrance subtly stiffened.
The pressure Lord Aros carried was impossible to ignore. Even with his aura restrained, his presence alone felt overwhelming, like standing near a mountain that could collapse whenever it wished.
Amos watched from inside the carriage window.
“Father really walks around like without thinking about his surrounding, that's pretty fucking cool.”
“Yes,” Elena replied.
“That explains my childhood trauma.”
“Young Master was never afraid of the Master.”
“You don't know that.”
Outside, Aros turned slightly toward the carriage.
“Come out.”
Amos took a deep breath before stepping outside, immediately extending his hand to Ambrosia. She paused for a moment, overwhelmed by the crowd—too many eyes, too many nobles, too many unfamiliar faces.
“Remember.”
Ambrosia looked toward him.
“You’re a Kyros now.”
Her fingers tightened gently around his hand before she stepped up beside him. The nobles nearby reacted at once—some surprised, some puzzled, others simply curious. A blonde pale-haired that silver when under a light, a girl standing next to the heir of House Kyros was sure to draw attention, and murmurs began to ripple through the crowd almost instantly.
“That’s her?”
“Lord Kyros adopted daughter?”
“She’s beautiful.”
“Who cares about that? Why is HE holding her hand?”
“Are they close?”
“That trouble has siblings?”
“Quiet, idiot. Lord Aros is right there.”
Amos heard every single word clearly thanks to his enhanced senses. Ambrosia probably heard some of it too because her shoulders tensed slightly again.
Amos clicked his tongue softly.
Then,
He moved half a step closer to her deliberately.
The heir of House Kyros was openly shielding her.
The whispers dropped noticeably afterward. A servant approached carefully while bowing deeply.
“Lord Aros. The banquet hall has already prepared seats for House Kyros.”
Aros nodded once.
“Lead the way.”
The servant nearly looked relieved to receive a response at all.
As they strolled through the palace halls, Amos glanced around in growing disbelief. Everything was massive. Crystal chandeliers hovered above, held aloft by anti-gravity enchantments. White marble walls gleamed with intricate mana circuits. Nobles in lavish attire lined the corridors, while servants moved with clockwork precision, balancing silver trays topped with glowing drinks.
Honestly?
He might just commit a crime.
The place looked luxurious enough to stir his dragon instincts once more. His eyes flicked toward a golden decorative statue by the hallway. Incredibly shiny. Dangerously shiny.
“Elena.”
“Yes.”
“If that statue disappears.”
“You would die.”
“Got it.”
Ambrosia quietly hid a smile beside him.
As they continued deeper inside, nobles stepped aside almost instinctively whenever Aros approached.
Then suddenly a young nobleman around Amos’s age accidentally turned the corner too quickly and nearly collided directly into Ambrosia.
“Ah—!”
He stopped abruptly at the last second.
Then looked up.
And froze completely.
Because Amos was staring directly at him now.
Silence.
The poor boy visibly paled.
Amos blinked once.
“Hello.”
The noble boy looked moments away from collapsing.
“I-I apologize!”
He bowed so quickly Amos thought his spine might break.
“I did not see you, Young Master Kyros!”
Amos looked confused.
"You apologized to the wrong person."
"I am sorry!"
"That doesn't sound sincere enough."
The boy looked like he regretted existing.
Ambrosia quickly tugged Amos’s sleeve lightly.
“Lord Brother.”
Amos looked down.
She gave the tiniest shake of her head.
Ah.
Alright.
Amos sighed dramatically before waving one hand.
“You’re forgiven. Go survive somewhere else.”
“Yes!”
The boy escaped immediately.
Elena watched him disappear down the hallway.
“He nearly tripped twice.”
“Good survival instinct at least.”
Ambrosia covered her mouth slightly, shoulders trembling faintly.
Amos narrowed his eyes.
“Did you just laugh at him?”
“No.”
“That was definitely a laugh.”
“A little.”
....
The banquet hall of the Imperial Palace was breathtakingly excessive.
Golden pillars stretched toward a ceiling painted with scenes of ancient imperial victories while floating crystal lights drifted overhead like artificial stars. Hundreds of nobles filled the hall dressed in expensive silks, enchanted jewelry, military uniforms, and ceremonial robes embroidered with family crests.
And despite the sheer number of people, House Kyros still dominated attention effortlessly.
The moment Amos stepped in alongside Aros and Ambrosia, countless eyes turned their way. He was starting to get why his family seemed to unsettle noble society so much. Their seats were right near the front of the grand hall, close enough to the throne that even minor nobles wouldn’t dare make a sound. Talk about priority seating. Amos sat down lazily while Ambrosia carefully took the seat beside him. Across the table, Elena remained standing behind House Kyros.
Servants immediately approached.
Wine.
Tea.
Desserts.
Expensive-looking things Amos couldn’t pronounce.
One servant nervously placed a cup before Amos with both hands shaking slightly.
Amos stared at the trembling teapot.
“Am I really that scary?”
The servant almost dropped the tray.
“N-No, Young Master!”
“That sounded extremely fake.”
“Pardon this servant!”
The poor man retreated immediately after pouring the tea at record speed.
Amos sighed.
“I feel unwelcomed.”
Ambrosia quietly looked down to hide another smile.
Meanwhile, the surrounding nobles continued secretly observing their table.
More specifically Ambrosia.
Her looks alone were enough to draw attention, but what truly stunned everyone was where she chose to sit—right beside Amos, the heir of House Kyros—making her place in the family unmistakably clear.
Even now, several noble youths nearby were whispering among themselves.
“That’s the rumored adopted daughter?”
“She’s prettier than I expected…”
“Forget that. Why is THAT Amos Kyros acting normal around her?”
Amos took a slow sip of tea while staring blankly ahead.
His hearing had become genuinely inconvenient lately.
Ambrosia carefully glanced toward him.
“Lord Brother.”
“Hm?”
“Are you angry?”
“No.”
“You look angry.”
“This is just my face.”
She paused.
“Oh.”
“That reaction hurts me.”
A faint smile played on her lips again. At this rate, she might start developing a peculiar sense of humor. Aros sat calmly at the center of the table, utterly indifferent to the atmosphere around him. Nobles would occasionally approach to offer their greetings—only to leave moments later after receiving nothing more than a single nod.
Amos observed the pattern carefully.
“Father.”
Aros glanced at him.
“Do people actually enjoy talking to you?”
“Yes.”
“Voluntarily?”
“Yes.”
“That's an obvious lie and you know it”
Elena quietly added from behind them.
“It's their duty to pay respect to our family, such is the way of politics,” Aros said calmly.
“Is that so.”
“You too will come to learn it sooner or later.”
“Ugh.”
Before the conversation could continue a loud ceremonial announcement echoed throughout the grand hall.
“His Imperial Majesty approaches!”
Every noble quickly stood up, and the mood shifted in an instant. Conversations came to an abrupt halt, and even the air seemed thick with tension.
Amos stood beside Ambrosia while turning toward the massive golden doors at the end of the hall.
Then the doors slowly opened.
The imperial guards marched in first, their formation flawless, silver spears shimmering faintly with enchantments. Following them came servants bearing the empire’s banners.
And at last—
The Imperial Family stepped into view.
At the center walked the emperor himself.
The pressure surrounding him wasn’t weaker than Aros.
The weight of an entire empire rested on that man naturally.
Beside him walked the Empress with elegant grace, her beauty carrying the quiet sharpness of someone far more dangerous than she appeared.
Then, behind them, the imperial princes and princesses filed in one after another. Amos did his best not to pay much attention. Until—
His gaze settled on a striking figure—silver hair, clear violet eyes, and an elegant white ceremonial dress trimmed with imperial gold. Somehow, the hall seemed to shine more brightly around her. The Crown Princess.
And unfortunately, the exact moment she entered that her gaze immediately met his across the hall.
Directly.
Amos blinked once.
He glanced over, then quickly looked away. No way. He knew trouble the moment he saw it.