From early dawn onward, mages stationed across the capital began launching colorful fireballs into the sky.
They burst high above the rooftops in blooms of red, gold, blue, violet, and green, each explosion carefully shaped and controlled until the whole sky looked like it was blooming over and over again. Some cracked loudly enough to shake windows. Others burst into showers of glowing sparks that drifted down like falling stars before fading away. A few even exploded into shaped images, imperial crests, crowns, beasts, and banners crafted from light and flame.
It was less practical magic and more spectacle. Pure waste. Pure celebration. And the people loved it.
Everywhere in the city, the mood had turned festive to the point of absurdity. Streets were packed. Music played from every direction. People drank before noon and saw no issue with it. Children pointed upward every few minutes whenever another bright explosion split the heavens. Merchants shouted happily. Nobles rode around smiling too much. Even the poorer districts had joined in, their usual roughness softened beneath shared excitement, alcohol, and the temporary illusion that everyone was part of something grand.
Ludger stood by the window of his room in the Torvares manor and watched it all in silence.
People were celebrating this birthday as if the emperor were part of their own family.
As if some child sitting in a palace somehow mattered personally to their lives beyond taxes, decrees, and the banners hanging over their heads.
He did not understand that kind of loyalty. Or perhaps he understood it too well and simply found it foolish. Still, the sight itself was impressive. The capital looked alive. Beautiful, even. A city of stone, gold, banners, fire, and noise dressed up so perfectly that it almost succeeded in hiding the greed, politics, and knives buried underneath.
Almost.
Ludger watched another string of magical fireworks explode above the city before turning away from the window. Night was approaching. Which meant it was time. He moved toward where his clothes had been prepared and began putting them on.
The first layer was fitted and clean, comfortable enough not to restrict movement while still carrying the firm structure of noble tailoring. Over that came the main suit itself, a dark navy so deep it nearly looked black unless the light caught it properly, lined with elegant green accents along the seams and trim. The shoulders were sharp without being oversized, the fit tailored close enough to emphasize his frame while still leaving room for movement, and subtle embroidered patterns near the cuffs and collar gave it just enough refinement to show wealth without becoming gaudy.
Then came the cloak.
Dark on the outside, green-lined beneath, draping neatly over his shoulders and falling behind him in clean heavy folds that made the whole outfit feel less like clothing and more like something meant to announce presence the moment he entered a room.
The first time Ludger had put it all on, he had felt ridiculous.
Like some rich CEO from another life pretending to belong among money, politics, and polished arrogance.
But now? Now he felt nothing. No excitement. No pride. No discomfort. Just practicality. It was clothing. Expensive clothing, admittedly. But still just clothing. He adjusted one sleeve, looked once at his reflection, and found no real reaction in himself.
The only thing he felt any real interest toward tonight had nothing to do with appearances, celebration, or noble games. He wanted to see those foreign warriors up close. Really see them.
To stand near enough to feel their presence directly and decide for himself what exactly they were hiding. Because whatever concealed their nature from others, Ludger doubted it would hold perfectly once he was close enough.
And if it did… Then that alone would make them more interesting than half the people attending the party combined. He stared at his reflection a moment longer, eyes calm and cold.
If those warriors were there tonight, then he would finally get a proper look. And if they truly were dangerous enough to require hiding from him… Then perhaps the evening would not be boring after all. Ludger headed to the entrance and waited there with his arms crossed.
The manor was quieter than the capital outside, but only by comparison. Even from within the front hall, he could still hear the distant life of the city, the muffled bursts of magical fireworks, the restless movement of carriages, the rise and fall of music and celebration spilling through the night. It all felt far away from where he stood, which suited him just fine.
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He leaned lightly against the wall near the entrance, posture straight, expression calm, already dressed and ready while waiting for the others to stop being late.
The first to appear was Viola. Ludger looked up. And raised an eyebrow. For all her practicality, all her preference for training, fighting, and acting like dresses were some noble conspiracy against common sense, she still came down wearing one.
A red one.
Not overloaded with jewels or pointless frills, but tailored in a way that made the color and cut do most of the work. It hugged her figure cleanly, making no effort to hide the fact that she had grown into herself more over the last years than some people had bothered noticing. The dress was elegant without looking fragile, bold without crossing into desperation, and the deep red suited her so naturally that anything softer would have looked wrong on principle.
Her hair had been tied back into a simple long ponytail, which somehow only made the whole thing sharper. It kept her usual energy intact while giving her enough polish to belong in the kind of gathering where everyone would be pretending appearances were not one of the main weapons in the room.
Ludger’s gaze stayed on her for a second longer than he intended. Viola noticed immediately, of course. And instead of getting flustered like some ordinary girl, she only looked more pleased with herself.
Confident. Very confident.
One word that could describe her style would be glamour. Not softness. Not refinement alone. The sort that entered a room and did not ask whether it had been noticed.
Viola came to a stop in front of him and looked him over in turn, eyes sweeping from his shoulders to the line of the cloak and then back up.
Then she smirked faintly and said, “So your mother chose that, huh?”
Ludger said nothing. Viola’s smile deepened by a fraction.
“It really suits you.”
He just nodded in response. That seemed to amuse her more than if he had tried to argue. Luna showed up soon after. Ludger turned his head at the sound of footsteps and found himself going still for half a second.
She was also wearing a dress.
A glamorous one, though in a quieter way than Viola’s. Where Viola’s red carried heat, confidence, and the sort of presence that naturally pulled attention, Luna’s was emerald green, deeper, calmer, and somehow more refined because it made no effort to demand anything.
Her hair had been pinned up in an elegant updo, exposing the clean line of her neck and making her whole appearance feel sharper, more composed. The dress suited her build well too. With an elegant updo as her hairstyle, she was more slender than Viola, and because of that the overall impression she gave was even closer to that of a high-class woman from the heart of the capital. Not merely pretty. Polished. The sort of beauty that looked expensive even when it was not trying to.
Ludger looked at her for a moment and acknowledged the obvious truth. She was truly beautiful. Very much so.
And yet…
He did not feel particularly flustered.
No racing pulse. No awkward heat. No stupid urge to look away like some boy who had forgotten how to think because a girl had decided to look good in front of him.
That only confirmed what he already knew. Whatever confusion had been floating around these past days, whatever uneasy questions he had been turning over in his head, the core of it remained the same.
He could only see Luna as his friend. That realization settled more cleanly than he expected. Then Viola, who had clearly been waiting for this exact moment, grinned and spread her hands slightly.
“Well?” she asked. “How do we look?”
Ludger looked from one to the other.
Then said, “Fine, I guess.”
Viola stared at him. Luna blinked once.
Then Viola said, in a tone of flat disbelief, “Kharnek would be able to use more adjectives than that.”
Ludger shrugged. That only made Viola groan softly.
“You really are hopeless.”
“I answered.”
“You committed a crime against language.”
Luna, standing beside her, looked like she had briefly considered defending him before deciding the effort would be wasted.
Fortunately for Ludger, Torvares appeared before Viola could continue the assault.
The old lord came down in a simple suit, dark and properly fitted, with the sort of understated quality that only people with old money ever managed well. There was nothing flashy about it, which somehow made it feel more expensive rather than less. He looked exactly like what he was, a powerful noble who did not need ornament to prove anything.
Ludger glanced at him and asked, “Do you want my opinion about your clothes too?”
Torvares stopped. Viola immediately looked interested. Luna, somehow, already seemed tired.
The old man was silent for a moment, then said, “I still cannot understand your sense of humor.”
Ludger nodded once. “That’s fair.”
Torvares gave him a long look that suggested he was not fully certain whether Ludger had made a joke or simply chosen violence against conversation again.
Then, without commenting further, he adjusted one sleeve and said, “Good. We’re all here.”
Viola took one last look at the group and lifted her chin slightly, clearly pleased with the overall result.
Ludger, meanwhile, was already ready for the night to begin if only so it could end sooner.
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