The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 1146

Chapter 1146: The Silence

Elsewhere, well beyond the confines of the Empire, while a momentous event boisterously reshaped the course of things in a place unknown to almost everyone, several people had gathered inside one of the lavish suites reserved for distinguished guests.

One of them lay face down across an oversized sofa, lazily browsing through his terminal with one hand while his ethereal features remained half-buried in the cushions.

Every now and then, a finger casually flicked across the screen, sending holographic windows drifting lazily through the air before dismissing them just as quickly. Meanwhile, his equally breathtaking counterpart stood by the expansive window, silently overlooking the sprawling capital below as afternoon light poured through the glass, outlining the elegant silhouette of his wings.

The quiet atmosphere lasted only until the door clicked open.

An attendant stepped inside only after receiving permission. Without so much as a wasted movement, he bowed deeply enough that his gaze never once rose to meet theirs, his greeting delivered with the kind of flawless courtesy expected when standing before Aerun royalty.

The one standing by the window merely hummed in acknowledgment before asking, "What time do we leave?"

There wasn’t the slightest trace of uncertainty in his voice. It was the tone of someone who’d never once entertained the possibility of rejection. As he turned toward the doorway, the natural light happened to fall across his face at precisely the right angle, making features that were already breathtaking somehow appear even more flawless.

Unfortunately, the attendant hesitated.

"About that..." he began carefully. "I’m afraid there isn’t an appointment scheduled for today, Your Highness Prince Lyrian."

For the first time that afternoon, the prince raised a brow.

That...

Was not the answer he’d expected.

Across the room, the figure sprawled on the sofa finally stopped scrolling idly through his terminal before letting out a short scoff.

"Wow." Cyrion slowly pushed himself upright. "Still?"

He rested an elbow against the armrest before adding with theatrical disbelief, "Did he die from happiness after hearing the news? Is that why he can’t respond?"

"Cyrion."

Lyrian’s voice carried just enough warning to stop his twin from saying anything more reckless.

"The walls always have ears."

Cyrion merely rolled his eyes.

"Then how else are we supposed to explain this silence?"

He crossed one leg over the other as he leaned back comfortably.

"Not a single response from him. Nothing from his house. And nothing from the Imperial Household either." He spread both hands. "Unless he’s actually dead, what else explains this? His track record’s practically spotless. Honestly, it’s almost inhumanly perfect."

As he spoke, holographic projections suddenly bloomed throughout the room.

Photographs of one particular blue-haired official appeared one after another, each captured from different angles, different occasions, and different years. Some showed Killian in formal military attire, others during diplomatic receptions, while several appeared to have been taken candidly from afar.

"For a human," Cyrion continued thoughtfully, "he’s relatively presentable, which was the only reason why we agreed to this despite how abysmally short their lifespans are."

He casually tapped one of the floating photographs with a finger.

A familiar approval icon immediately appeared over the image, indicating he’d left a public reaction, no doubt already on its way to stirring yet another round of gossip across Star Net.

Frankly, he’d already gone to considerable lengths for this, and the lack of progress was becoming increasingly irritating. They had traveled all this way and left behind the comforts of their own kingdom, yet the results remained disappointingly lacking.

Ugh.

Only after calming himself down with a breath did he feel composed enough to look toward the attendant.

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