Ian Estalto strolled down the palace corridors, his hands tucked casually into his coat pockets as he processed his meeting with Lady Ines. The corners of his lips quirked upward in a faint smirk. She was certainly not what he'd expected. Fierce, sharp-tongued, and guarded to a fault—qualities he rarely encountered in the usual parade of nobles who either fawned over him or tried to manipulate him.
Still, there was something more to her, something Ian couldn't quite put his finger on. That magic of hers… it wasn't just rare; it was unprecedented. Not even the most ancient grimoires in the royal archives described anything like it. Yet she acted like it was a burden, not a gift.
Intriguing.
Ian made his way to his private study, shutting the heavy oak door behind him. The room was his sanctuary, a blend of Elandrian elegance and his own eccentricity. The walls were lined with books—some magical tomes, others remnants of his previous life. Hidden among them were artifacts he had "borrowed" over the years, most of which no one in the court could identify.
He poured himself a glass of wine and sank into the plush armchair by the window. From here, he could see the sprawling palace gardens, where courtiers gossiped and schemed beneath flowering trellises. He swirled the wine in his glass, his mind drifting back to Ines.
"She's stubborn,"
he mused aloud, the faintest trace of amusement in his voice.
"But she's also smart. Smarter than she lets on."
He took a sip, savoring the rich flavor before setting the glass aside.
"She'll be a challenge."
Ian leaned back in his chair, his gray-blue eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Despite his flippant attitude during their meeting, he wasn't oblivious to the risks. A marriage—arranged or otherwise—was a dangerous game in the imperial court. He wasn't naive enough to believe their agreement would shield them entirely from scrutiny or intrigue.
The question was: why did the emperor want this union so badly? Ian had been the seventh son for most of his life, and seventh sons were rarely the focus of imperial politics. He'd been content to live in the shadows, free from the suffocating expectations that plagued his older brothers. But this? This felt calculated. Deliberate. And it had something to do with Ines's magic.
He reached for a small crystal orb on the desk and muttered a command. The orb glowed faintly, and a soft voice emanated from within.
"What do you require, Your Highness?"
"Everything you can find on Lady Ines Belladonna,"
Ian said, his tone clipped.
"Family history, magic records, even her favorite hobbies if you can. Keep it quiet."
"Of course, Your Highness,"
the voice replied, and the orb dimmed.
Ian stared at the darkened orb for a moment, then sighed, running a hand through his hair. Ines had been right to distrust him. He wasn't proud of it, but his survival depended on staying one step ahead of everyone else—especially now.
Ian Estalto leaned back in his chair, staring at the swirling red liquid in his glass. It had been twenty years since he had woken up in this world, in the body of the seventh prince of Elandria. The memory of his old life felt distant, yet the details remained painfully vivid. He'd been an overworked programmer back then, burning the candle at both ends to meet impossible deadlines. One moment, he was staring at a screen filled with lines of code, his vision blurring from exhaustion. The next, he'd blacked out, only to wake up in a bed far too luxurious for his modest apartment—and in an infant body that wasn't his own.
He had spent those first few months in a state of denial and confusion, piecing together the rules of this new world while adapting to the identity of Ian Estalto, the emperor's seventh son. Unlike the other princes, Ian had no responsibilities, no expectations. He was the forgotten child in a sprawling imperial family, free to do as he pleased—a stark contrast to the relentless grind of his past life. For someone who had spent his previous existence chained to a desk, it had been intoxicating at first.
But even in this world, the instincts of a programmer lingered. Ian couldn't help but analyze, tinker, and test the boundaries of the reality he now inhabited. And over time, he'd discovered something remarkable: he, too, possessed a power. It wasn't magic in the traditional sense but rather a strange ability to "summon" skills, traits, and techniques from the characters of the games and anime he had consumed obsessively in his former life. It wasn't perfect—there were limits, and he had yet to fully understand the mechanics—but it gave him an edge in this new existence.
Despite this, Ian had learned to keep his abilities hidden. The court was a viper's nest, and while he played the part of the carefree, irresponsible prince, he was always watching, always calculating. The freedom he enjoyed came at a price—one misstep, and the emperor or one of his ambitious siblings could turn their attention to him. Ian had no desire to become a pawn in their games.
Yet now, with this marriage to Lady Ines Belladonna, the precarious balance of his life was shifting. Her magic was unlike anything he'd encountered in this world, a power that didn't conform to the rules of the empire's established magical theory. And the fact that no one, not even Ines herself, seemed to fully understand it made her a potential threat—or a valuable ally.
Ian smirked to himself, setting the glass down on the table.
"Twenty years,"
he murmured.
"And just when I thought things were starting to get predictable, along comes Lady Ines."
He stood and crossed the room to the window, gazing out at the palace gardens below. He couldn't help but feel a flicker of curiosity about his new bride-to-be. Their agreement to keep out of each other's way suited him perfectly—for now. But if her magic turned out to be as unique as he suspected, Ian knew it was only a matter of time before the rest of the court took notice.
And when that happened, their fragile alliance might be the only thing standing between them and the chaos that was sure to follow.
Ian stared out of the window, watching the wind ripple through the perfectly manicured hedges of the imperial gardens. His smirk faltered, replaced by a thoughtful frown. Twenty years in this world had taught him that nothing ever went as planned, especially when it involved magic and politics. Ines Belladonna was an enigma, and enigmas were dangerous. She might not have known the full extent of her powers, but the court wasn't blind. A mage with unknown abilities was either an asset or a threat—and Ian wasn't the only one who would be watching her closely.
Turning from the window, Ian walked back to his desk, brushing aside the clutter of scrolls and books that he rarely read. His hand hovered over the crystal orb for a moment before he activated it again.
The faint voice returned.
"Your Highness?"
"Change of plans,"
Ian said.
"Don't just look into Lady Ines's history. I want every detail about the Belladonna family's magical lineage. Cross-reference their abilities with anything in the archives—old myths, forgotten spells, anything. I want a full report by tomorrow."
The orb dimmed, its glow fading as Ian leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the polished wood surface. He couldn't rely on Ines to share everything about her abilities, not yet. Trust was a luxury neither of them could afford.
Still, there was something about her that intrigued him. Her sharp wit, her defiance, the way she carried herself as if every word was a challenge. She wasn't like the other nobles he dealt with, who either simpered or schemed their way through life. No, Lady Ines Belladonna had fire—and Ian couldn't decide if he admired it or if it annoyed him.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Ian sighed and waved a hand. "Enter."
A young steward stepped inside, bowing deeply. "Your Highness, the emperor has summoned you. He wishes to discuss preparations for your engagement announcement."
Ian rolled his eyes, standing with an exaggerated stretch.
"Of course he does. Can't let the court miss out on the drama, can we?"
He grabbed his coat, slinging it over his shoulders as he made his way toward the door.
As he strode through the palace corridors, Ian's thoughts returned to Ines. If the emperor was planning to use her for some political advantage, Ian needed to know what that advantage was. And if it involved her magic… well, he'd have to tread carefully. He might not know everything about Lady Belladonna yet, but he knew enough to see that she wasn't the type to bow quietly to anyone's plans—not even his.
♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠
The emperor's study was as imposing as ever, its walls lined with shelves of ancient tomes and relics that radiated an aura of power. The emperor himself sat behind a massive desk, his expression unreadable as Ian entered.
"You're late,"
the emperor said, his tone clipped.
Ian shrugged, unbothered.
"Time is relative, Father. What's a few minutes between family?"
The emperor's sharp gaze cut through him, but Ian met it with his usual carefree smirk. The emperor sighed, motioning for him to sit.
"We need to discuss the engagement,"
the emperor began.
"The Belladonna girl is… an interesting choice for a match. Her family's magical lineage is well-regarded, but her abilities are untested. You'll need to keep her in line."
Ian tilted his head, feigning innocence.
"Keep her in line? Isn't that more your style, Father? I thought I was just here to play the role of a doting husband."
The emperor's expression hardened.
"Don't play coy, Ian. You're smarter than that, and we both know it. Her magic is an unknown variable, and unknowns are dangerous. If she becomes a liability, you're to deal with it."
Ian's smirk faltered for the briefest moment.
"Deal with it?"
he echoed.
"And here I thought we were celebrating love and unity."
The emperor's eyes narrowed.
"Don't test me, Ian. You've coasted through life long enough. This is your chance to prove your worth. Do not squander it."
Ian nodded slowly, his carefree mask slipping back into place.
"Of course, Father. I'll do my duty."
As he left the study, Ian's mind churned. The emperor's warning had been clear: Ines was both a tool and a threat. But Ian wasn't about to let himself be used as a pawn in someone else's game—not by the emperor, and certainly not by the court.
If Ines's magic was as extraordinary as he suspected, then protecting her might be in his best interest—not for the emperor's sake, but for his own survival. And perhaps, just perhaps, for hers too.