The light from the chandeliers reflects coldly off the polished marble floor.
The audience chamber is filled with a solemn silence, and the countless gazes of the lined-up vassals pierce the skin like needles of respect and appraisal.

At the end of the crimson carpet leading to the throne, three princes stood quietly.

The man standing in front seems to be discipline itself in human form. His jet-black hair is perfectly groomed, and his pure white military uniform with gold embroidery perfectly reflects the lines of his trained physique.

"I offer my greetings, wishing for the peace of the suzerain state and the glory of Your Highness. I am the First Prince of the vassal state of Rosenheim, Cedric Rosenheim."

A low, composed voice dominates the audience chamber. His blue eyes remain frozen as he wears a thin smile. Every one of his movements is as precise as if he stepped out of a textbook.

Beside him, standing a step back, is a man who is quietly contrasting. Silver-white hair that looks as if it were spun from solidified moonlight. He carries an atmosphere more like a scholar than a warrior.

"I am deeply grateful for the honor of this selection stay. I am the Second Prince, Elias Rosenheim. I shall strive with all my heart to ensure this stay meets Your Highness’s satisfaction."

His intellectual and detached voice has almost no emotional fluctuation. His almond-shaped eyes are narrowed sharply, as if analyzing the person before him. His calculated smile is like an exquisitely crafted mask.

And the final one stood a short distance from his two brothers, as if his very presence there were a mistake. His soft-looking chestnut hair is slightly disheveled, and his luxurious formal attire does not sit naturally on his body, looking like a borrowed garment.

His gaze wanders somewhere far away, as if trying to escape this formal space.

"...Felix Rosenheim. Third Prince."

Short words, oozing an air of indifference. Unlike his brothers, there is no tension or calculation, only a lack of interest radiating from his entire being. The eyes that met for a moment were immediately averted, falling to the fragments of light on the floor.

The orthodox ruler. The rational designer. And the one who deviates from the board.
Three different pressures are quietly directed toward a single throne. It was the suffocating opening of the month that was about to begin.