Instead, it felt like two energy bodies of different natures and slightly varying frequencies, cautiously testing, touching, repelling each other, and simultaneously influencing one another.
The light of the shard continued to flicker intermittently, and its humming noise waxed and waned.
Fine beads of sweat broke out on Freya’s forehead, and her face grew slightly pale. However, her hands remained steady as she maintained the output of the mana sphere.
Time seemed to stretch.
The hall was deathly silent as everyone held their breath, watching this strange scene unfold.
The smile on Ross’s face gradually faded, and his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
Irina widened her eyes, appearing somewhat disappointed yet also confused.
Several Sanctuary Priests exchanged glances, their expressions filled with suspicion and uncertainty.
‘This reaction…’
It was neither a strong resonance nor a complete lack of response, and it certainly wasn’t a state of chaos. Rather, it was a… subtle energy interaction and disturbance that was difficult to define.
“It seems — “
Freya slowly opened her eyes, her voice carrying a perfectly measured touch of exhaustion and apology. Simultaneously, she controlled the mana sphere, allowing it to slowly dissipate.
“My mana’s nature seems to have some… subtle differences from the power within this Holy Light Shard. Forcing contact might interfere with the shard’s stability. I have been presumptuous.”
She bowed slightly, her posture remaining elegant. However, the changes in her complexion and breathing indicated that her recent “attempt” had been quite taxing.
Her explanation was flawless.
By attributing the “abnormal reaction” to “differences in nature” and “avoiding interference,” she preserved her own dignity while implying her mana was unique and powerful enough to affect the Holy Light Shard. At the same time, she distanced herself from any potential negative consequences.
Once the mana sphere dissipated, the light and humming of the Holy Light Shard gradually subsided, returning to its previous state of stability. However, it seemed the light was now the tiniest bit dimmer than before.
Ross stared at Freya, and a complex light seemed to flash deep within his azure eyes. Eventually, he regained his gentle smile.
“It is of no consequence, Freya. Different mana traits naturally interact with the Holy Light in different ways. Your ability to control your energy so precisely to avoid unnecessary conflict already demonstrates a very high level of magical mastery.”
He turned to the crowd and spoke loudly.
“It appears the mysteries of mana are far more profound and diverse than we imagined. Our thanks to Lady Freya for showing us another possibility.”
Applause rang out, but compared to the praise given to Irina, it seemed laced with a bit more complexity and doubt.
Freya retreated to her original position with Lyra’s subtle support. She could feel countless gazes still fixed upon her, filled with deeper scrutiny.
“Boss, are you alright?” Lyra whispered. She could feel the coldness of Freya’s fingertips and the slight trembling of her body.
“I’m fine,” Freya replied softly, her voice audible only to Lyra. “It’s just… the mana consumption was a bit high.”
The performance just now seemed simple, but it had actually drained a significant amount of her mental energy and mana. She had to precisely control the nature and output of the sphere while simulating a “subtle confrontation” with the Holy Light Shard, all without exposing the true fluctuations of her Mana Heart Crystal.
More importantly, at the moment of contact, she had truly felt it —
‘That shard had a nearly greedy attraction… wanting to “absorb” or “assimilate” my Mana Heart Crystal!’
She had forcibly suppressed her instinctive resonance and the pulsing of her crystal, which had created the illusion of “repulsive interference.”
This only confirmed her suspicions!
‘The Holy Sword needs my Mana Heart Crystal!’
Irina’s strong resonance was likely because her light-attribute mana met one aspect of the Holy Sword’s requirements, but it was probably incomplete…
The crisis had passed for now, but a deeper chill rose from the depths of her heart.
“Lady Freya.”
An old and solemn voice spoke.
Scholar Harold had approached them at some point, and he was looking at her with a piercing gaze.
“The pure mana you condensed just now… it seemed to be completely stripped of elemental attributes? This is extremely rare in conventional magic theory. I wonder if you would be interested in visiting the Temple Archive another day for a chat? Perhaps we could discuss the further possibilities of this form of mana.”
His invitation sounded polite, yet it carried a tone that did not easily accept a refusal.
A formal invitation from the Holy Temple! This was a step further than the probing at the banquet.
Freya felt a prickle of alarm, but her face showed appropriate surprise and a hint of being flattered.
“Scholar Harold is too kind. My research is still shallow; I fear I am not qualified to engage in deep discussions with the seniors of the Holy Temple. If a suitable opportunity arises, I will certainly pay a visit to seek your guidance.”
She kept the invitation vague and delayed. She neither refused directly nor accepted immediately, leaving herself room to maneuver.
Scholar Harold gave her a long look, said nothing more, nodded, and turned to leave.
The latter half of the banquet passed in an even more subtle and tense atmosphere.
Freya could feel the invisible net tightening around her.
Ross’s attention, the Holy Temple’s scrutiny, her father’s silence, the malice hidden beneath Irina’s frailty… and those unidentified onlookers lurking among the guests.
When the Imperial Family announced the end of the banquet and the guests began to depart, Freya wanted nothing more than to leave this suffocating palace immediately.
However, just as she and Lyra were about to exit the Emerald Hall with the crowd, a man dressed in the uniform of a royal attendant quietly approached them and bowed respectfully.
“Lady Freya Christo Dale, His Highness requests your presence. Please follow me to the side hall for a private audience.”
***
The entrance to the side hall was hidden behind the ornate curtains of the Emerald Hall. Compared to the brilliant clamor of the main hall, this place felt exceptionally quiet and deep.
Magic lamps burned on the walls, their light soft but tinged with a certain coldness. The air was thick with expensive incense, yet it could not dispel the invisible pressure.
The attendant led Freya and Lyra to a carved wooden door and then bowed as he retreated.
Lyra instinctively tried to follow her inside, but Freya stopped her with a look.
Lyra paused, her red eyes full of worry, but she eventually nodded. Like a loyal guardian, she stood with her back against the wall outside the door, her ears perked up.
Freya pushed the door open and entered alone.
This was an elegantly furnished small reception room with a thick carpet and several landscape oil paintings on the walls. Real wood burned in the fireplace, making a light crackling sound and bringing a false sense of warmth.
Ross Castor stood before the fireplace with his back to the door, his figure casting a long shadow in the dancing firelight.
Hearing the sound, he turned around. His face still bore that gentle and proper smile, but in this private space, the smile seemed to lose the perfect mask-like quality it held at the banquet. It felt a bit more… real, or perhaps, more purposeful.
“Freya, thank you for coming.”
Ross’s voice was exceptionally clear in the quiet room. “Please, have a seat.”
Freya did not approach the fireplace, nor did she sit in the comfortable armchair. She simply stood not far from the door and bowed slightly.
“Your Highness.”
Ross’s smile dimmed by a fraction, appearing slightly displeased by the distance she was deliberately maintaining. However, he did not show it. He walked slowly to a small round table on the side and personally poured two cups of red tea that gave off a delicate fruity aroma.
“There is no need to be so restrained, Freya. There are no outsiders here. We can… just be like we used to be.”
He pushed one of the cups toward Freya.
‘Like we used to be?’
Freya sneered inwardly.
What was it like before?
Were they childhood playmates?
Was he a senior at the Academy she could trust?
Or… was he the executioner from her past life, the one who appeared gentle and powerful in her eyes, only to personally send her to hell?
“Your Highness is the Crown Prince; protocol must be observed.”
Freya’s voice was calm and flat. She didn’t even touch the tea.
Ross picked up his own cup and took a light sip, but his gaze remained fixed on Freya’s face. He looked at her as if he were carefully examining a long-lost treasure, or perhaps evaluating an item of inestimable value.
“Freya — “
He set down his teacup, his tone becoming serious and low.
“I invited you here tonight because I wanted… to discuss some important matters with you.”
‘Here it comes.’
Freya’s heart tightened slightly, but her face remained expressionless.
“Please speak, Your Highness.”
Ross took two steps forward, narrowing the distance between them. His azure eyes, reflecting the firelight, seemed to flicker with a warm glow.
“You know we grew up together. His Majesty and the Empress, your father, and your grandfather, Lord Dale… everyone believes we are the most suitable match. This is not just out of consideration for our families and the Empire, but also because… I believe we understand each other and… appreciate each other.”
His voice carried a tenderness that was almost hypnotic.
“Before, we were still young and could focus on our studies and individual pursuits. But now, we have both reached the age where we must consider the future.”
He paused, his gaze becoming more focused, even carrying a mistakable aggression and possessiveness common to men.
“Freya, I do not want to be like my father and mother, waiting until everything is simply following a routine. I want… our relationship to take the next step. A formal engagement, announced to the world. Once you graduate from the Academy, we can hold the wedding. You will be the Empire’s most noble Crown Princess Consort, and the future Empress who will mother the nation. Together, we will lead Aurora toward an even more glorious future.”
His words were clear, direct, and filled with a confidence that took everything for granted, as if this were a predestined step that only required his slight nudge to realize.
He did not ask for her will, nor did he consider her thoughts; he simply announced his decision.
Freya looked at him quietly, staring at that handsome face wearing an expression of “deep affection.”
In her past life, had she ever been moved by such words?
Perhaps she had. After all, that was the hand of the Empire’s most brilliant star reaching out to her.
But now, she only felt an icy chill spreading from her spine to her limbs.
Every word felt like poison coated in honey.
‘Engagement? Wedding? Crown Princess Consort? Queen? What a wonderful promise!’
And in her previous life, the end of these promises was a cold dungeon, a Holy Sword piercing through her chest, and a heart being torn away!