Judge had always been extremely careful about using people to do what he desired. When he saw more strings attached to the story than his scissors of deception could cut, he took the first return train out of the act.
That was also what he had planned to do with Stein, the second prince. His initial plan was simple: manipulate Stein into being a puppet ruler, making sure the man trusted Judge enough to follow his "requests" with the same blind devotion as a dog spotting its owner holding a steak.
But, as always, the world was allergic to letting things go smoothly. Even more allergic when it was Judge doing the smoothing, or so his experience told him.
At first, Judge thought he had won the lottery when Stein seemed like the ideal candidate: a man with enough ambition to want the throne but not enough cunning to realize he was being played. It was all too perfect. Then came the problem — Renald, the first prince.
Renald had the impressive resume of a failure. An alcoholic? Check. A womanizer? Check. Financially irresponsible? Oh, absolutely. The man could make a dragon cry with how much gold he squandered. Everything about him screamed "I should never be put in charge of a kingdom," and yet, the more Judge looked into him, the more suspicious he became.
The first prince was hiding something. He reeked of a man who kept things under wraps — like a professional poker player who had just been dealt four aces but still acted like he had a bad hand.
It was the beginner step in deception, yet most fail to do so perfectly. Making others, especially your opponents, think they have the upper hand — even lower yourself if need be. But Renald was a master at this craft, the dude had almost zero self-respect.
Judge, being no fool, immediately slammed the metaphorical brakes on his plan with Stein. No way was he stepping into that mess. He'd rather juggle flaming swords while balancing on a tightrope over a pit of hungry wyverns.
Ok maybe not that much, he was just trying to be dramatic. But still, his answer was a big NO.
Nevertheless, it wasn't a total loss. Judge maintained his closeness with Stein in case things swung in his favor. A backup plan, if you will. After all, an emperor who owed you favors was better than one who saw you as a threat.
Which brought them to this moment — Judge, Stein, and Raphael standing out on the balcony, watching the grand party unfold inside the hall.
It was a fine night for nobility to pretend they had class while engaging in the most politically charged dance-off of the season. Meanwhile, Judge and company were taking in the view, which included the grand Drakonis Cloudweaver dock in the distance.
Even though the Wistmere mansion was supposed to replicate their other palace, this dock was extremely massive — far bigger than the one back at their Tiérmere estate.
It had seven major docks, ten normal docks, and seventeen smaller docks, all filled with elegant Cloudweavers coming and docking like oversized airships running on pure prestige. Compared to that, the one in Tiérmere looked like a glorified bird perch with delusions of grandeur.
Their family had not built a big dock at Tiérmere because the only other cloudweaver that came there was of the royalty.
Judge took a deep breath, letting the night air fill his lungs. He could already tell — this party was going to be one for the books. Whether it would be remembered for its grandeur or as the night everything went hilariously wrong remained to be seen.
he had attended many parties in his life, and every single one had managed to find a way to be worse than the last.
This one had the potential to be the most exhausting experience yet.
For starters, he was attending under strict orders from his mother, which meant there was no escape. Worse, Eleyn had gone as far as telling the staff not to let him leave the premises unless he was either dying or dramatically fainting in a way that would ruin the decor.
Which meant that his only options were to actually have fun (unlikely), stay out of trouble (even more unlikely), or cause enough mischief that his mother regretted leaving him behind (very likely).
His gaze shifted to the entrance, watching the guests filter in, nobles coming via cloudweavers had already entered. Now people were coming via carriages, all decked out in the most expensive atrocities ever sewn together.
The nobility had a certain talent for taking fashion to places it was never meant to go, and tonight was no exception.
He spotted one woman wearing what could only be described as an embroidered battle between swans and peacocks, and another man whose suit had so much silver embroideries on it but somehow still looked minimalistic. He envied the man's fashion sense.
Stein, standing beside him, muttered under his breath, "I think that woman's hat just winked at me."
Judge gave the suspiciously feathered hat another glance before deciding he didn't want to know.
Raphael, on his other side, sighed dramatically. "It's moments like these that make me question why I continue showing up to these things."
"Because you love gossip," Judge replied without missing a beat.
Raphael did not even try to deny it.
The party was in full swing by the time Judge was dragged onto the dance floor by a very determined young noble lady who clearly thought that his serious face and top hat meant he was mysterious and intriguing instead of bored and scheming.
She looked like a teenager, which was extremely older for him. But his height made up for the "more than ten years" age gap. He was still four.
"So, what do you do?" she asked as they waltzed.
"Lie," Judge said pleasantly.
She laughed, mistaking it for a joke.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied with a smirk that suggested he was hiding deep and tragic secrets rather than stalling for time until he could escape.
The dance ended, and he made a swift retreat after escorting the lady back but before he could be interrogated further.
Meanwhile, Stein had somehow managed to attract a very persistent old lady who was currently trying to set him up with her granddaughter.
"She's very polite, excellent at embroidery, and is very calm even when she is angry," the old woman said cheerfully, she definitely had recognized him as the second prince.
"Ah," Stein said, looking for an escape route. "How… wonderful."
"Would you like to meet her?"
Judge, passing by, patted Stein on the back and said, "He would love to." And then walked away before Stein could retaliate.
Over at the buffet table, Raphael had given up all pretense of civility and was currently engaged in a duel of subtle aggression with another noble over the last slice of lemon cake. Both looked as if they were only joking around, but Judge could tell Raphael was serious.
He decided to let her fight her own battles.
As the night dragged on, he managed to avoid being dragged into too many conversations, but his patience was starting to wear thin. He had tried — really tried — to behave himself, but at this point, the sheer boredom was beginning to outweigh his caution.
So he decided to have some fun.
Step one: Subtly introduce incorrect rumors into a conversation and watch them spread like wildfire.
By the time he was done, at least five nobles were murmuring about how Stein had taken a peculiar interest in acrobatics and might be eyeing a career in the performing arts. Two others were debating whether Renald's frequent disappearances were actually him sneaking off to write poetry under a pseudonym.
Of course, these were nothing but pastime entertainment for them and nothing serious, but they still loved to gossip.
Step two: Swap a few name cards on the arranged seating and watch pure chaos unfold when people sat in the wrong places.
The arguments that followed were delightful.
Step three: Absolutely obliterate Raphael in a battle of wits during a casual conversation in front of a large audience.
"Raphael, do you ever wonder why birds can fly but you can't?" Judge asked, swirling his drink.
"Because they have wings?" Raphael replied warily.
"No, it's because they have ambition and you don't."
Raphael gasped in mock betrayal, clutching her chest as the small group of gathered nobles erupted into light and respectful laughter.
The night continued in a blur of gossip, dancing, and mild sabotage. By the time it was over, Judge was both exhausted and extremely satisfied with his work.
As he left, he glanced back at the ballroom, where Raphael was still arguing over that damn slice of lemon cake, Stein was fending off another potential marriage arrangement, and at least three nobles were now fully convinced that Renald had a poetry hobby.
All in all, a successful evening.