“Thank you. Did you prepare a gift for me?”

  “I did.”

  Daphne Kael answered softly. She hesitated for a moment before lifting her head, her eyes flickering away from mine as a faint blush crept across her cheeks.

  “But… I’ll give it to you tonight.”

  Her voice dropped at the end of the sentence, almost as if she were embarrassed by her own words.

  I couldn’t help myself. A smile naturally spread across my face.

  “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

  Before she could respond, I stepped forward and closed the distance between us. I wrapped one arm around her shoulders and leaned in, pressing a light kiss against her cheek.

  “Mm…”

  Daphne stiffened for a brief second, clearly startled, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she remained still, her fingers curling slightly as her face turned a deep shade of red. She didn’t reject the hug. She didn’t complain. That alone told me more than words ever could.

  After a moment, I released her.

  I turned around and took a slow, measured breath.

  The warmth on my face faded almost instantly, replaced by calm composure. Daphne noticed the shift and quickly straightened her posture as well. Her expression became proper, her emotions carefully tucked away. She knew, just as I did, that this was where our private moment ended.

  Beyond this door was not a place for tenderness.

  It was a battlefield.

  When she was ready, I reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

  Before I could even observe the expressions of those inside, an ice-cold voice cut through the air.

  “So. You’ve finally arrived.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  The atmosphere inside the dining hall was heavy, rigid—like a drawn bowstring ready to snap.

  I stopped walking and inclined my head slightly.

  “…My apologies, Father,” I said in an even tone. “I just finished my morning training and came immediately.”

  At the head of the table sat Emperor Gareth Valemont, his back straight, his presence alone enough to weigh down the room. His sharp eyes lingered on me for a brief moment, his brows knitting together in mild displeasure.

  He said nothing.

  Instead, the woman seated beside him spoke first.

  “Do you have any idea what time it is?” her voice rang out sharply. “Breakfast begins at exactly eight o’clock. How dare you make the entire table wait for you?”

  I turned my gaze toward Empress Helena Ravelle, her posture flawless, her expression refined—but her eyes carried open hostility.

  I glanced at the empty seat beside her and replied calmly,

  “But I’m not the last one to arrive.”

  “You—!”

  Her composure cracked instantly. Anger flashed across her face as she leaned forward, but before she could finish her sentence—

  “Enough.”

  Father’s voice was low, yet absolute.

  The entire room fell silent.

  “Edric,” he said, his gaze returning to me. “Take your seat.”

  Then he turned to her.

  “And Helena, it is unbecoming of an empress to argue with a child at the dining table. Is it truly impossible for us to have a peaceful breakfast for once?”

  “Hmph.”

  The empress turned her head away, her lips pressed tightly together. Even so, she still cast me a sharp, venomous glare from the corner of her eye.

  I ignored it and walked to my seat.

  As I sat down, Father let out a tired sigh and rubbed his temple, as if even this early in the morning, the weight of the empire was already bearing down on him.

  Allow me to explain the situation.

  My name is Edric Valemont.

  I am the fourth prince of the Eldoria Imperium.

  And today, I turned eighteen.

  I have two older half-brothers, one older half-sister, and one younger half-sister. My father is the reigning emperor of the largest human empire on the continent. The woman seated beside him is my stepmother—the current empress.

  As for my biological mother…

  She died shortly after giving birth to me.

  Seated around the long dining table were familiar faces.

  My eldest brother, Lucan Valemont, sat upright with perfect posture, his expression unreadable. Beside him was my elder sister, Marielle Valemont, calm and composed, observing everything with quiet eyes. At the far end sat my youngest sister, Sylvia Valemont, still too young to fully understand the tension filling the room.

  One seat remained empty.

  My second brother, Rowan, had yet to arrive.

  As the fourth prince of the greatest human empire, my status was undeniably high. Servants bowed to me. Nobles smiled at me. Scholars spoke my name with respect.

  Yet none of that truly mattered.

  Because there was something about me that no one at this table could possibly imagine.

  Something that set me apart not just from my siblings—but from the entire world.

  I am a reincarnated individual.

  I have lived, died, and been reborn countless times.

  This—

  This is my seven hundred and eighth life.