Chapter 5
The Annual Hunt: The Swan Takes Flight, the Serpent Sheds Skin
The day of the Annual Hunt of the Solciel Empire
The Annual Imperial Hunt
Held each autumn in the sprawling imperial game preserve nestled at the edge of the Verdant Vale, the Annual Imperial Hunt is not merely a tradition—it is a spectacle of dominance, grace, and political theatre. What began centuries ago as a simple royal pastime has evolved into a carefully orchestrated event where nobility parade their power as finely as their steeds and silks.
For four hours, the Empire's most elite—dukes, marquesses, foreign dignitaries, and titled heirs—gather beneath gilded pavilions and fluttering house banners. Horses are adorned with jeweled tack, hunting falcons perch upon golden gauntlets, and hounds trained in the highlands are loosed in precise coordination. The forest becomes a stage where bloodlines, alliances, and ambitions are put on open display.
But behind the gleam of silver-tipped arrows and the echo of hunting horns, deeper games unfold. Every glance carries weight. Every trophy claimed is more than just prey—it is a statement.
And as tradition dictates, the host of the hunt—the one who holds the horn—holds the court's attention. This year, that honor belongs to Lady Ophelia Celestine Seraphina.
All eyes will be watching.
Some with awe.
Some with envy.
Others with sharpened teeth.
Beneath the polished surface of courtly leisure, Lady Ophelia Celestine Seraphina moved with the silent precision of a sovereign in waiting. From dawn until dusk, she orchestrated every detail of the Annual Imperial Hunt with a tactician's mind and an artist's eye—drafting seating charts, inspecting falconers, reviewing stables, and personally approving each noble's accommodation with an exacting gaze.
Silken scrolls and wax-sealed letters left her desk by the dozen, each word a blade wrapped in velvet. Nothing escaped her notice: not the servants whispering in the corners, nor the slight shifts in the noble alliances forming in response to her ascendance.
She did not simply host the Hunt.
She curated power, dressed it in silk, and set it loose in the woods.
And as the Empire watched, she reminded them—with every command, every signature, every flawless flourish—that even without a crown upon her head, she ruled.
Crown Princess Ophelia and The Empress Dowager enter! shouts out an eunuch
All eyes immediately fall on the pair, The Empress Dowager as always shines bright, age doesn't seem to affect her, her skin always glowing, her movements always elegant and poised.Yet, the focus doesn't seem to be on her, rather the person standing next to her. Crown Princess Ophelia Shining brighter than anyone, gold silks and satins adore her, with accents of blue similar to the deep sky in her eyes.
All the aristocrats bow down to the pair. The Empress Dowager sits down at her well deserved seat next to the Emperor, leaving Ophelia all alone to accept the greetings and scrutiny of the many aristocrats, like a rabbit left in the
mercy of wolves.
Lady Chaeri offers a curtsy
Lady Chaeri: Greetings, Crown Princess Ophelia. May you live long.
Lady Ophelia: How thoughtful, your greeting is well-received, Lady Chaeri. It's rare to hear you speak with such proper deference—though I suppose one must adjust when addressing a Crown Princess at last.I do hope it wasn't too difficult to get the words out. And may your tongue grow used to the taste of formality, Lady Chaeri. You'll be needing it often.
Lady Chaeri: It seems after some begging, you've finally convinced the Emperor to recognize you publicly. Congratulations—oh! I have some duties to attend to, forgive me for not following formalities and leaving early.
With a smirk etched onto her face, Lady Chaeri offers a bow before walking away.
Lady Ophelia (soliloquizing): Let her have her moment. Soon, she'll learn that titles aren't claimed with bitterness… but buried beneath them.
Soon, all the nobles sit down at their designated seats, only the young men and women on their horses.
The Emperor enters!
All gossip and chitchat has perished immediately. In sync, everyone is lowering themselves in front of the Emperor.
May you live long, Your Imperial Highness.
The Emperor: Greet our special guest today, the Imperial Envoy from Evlencia.
Greetings, Imperial Envoy.
Oris: My lady, the hunt will start in a few minutes.
Chaeri:Good~ I've been waiting too long for this.
Her lips curve up into a sinister smirk
Supervisor:
Rules for the Imperial Hunt!
You have 4 hours to hunt as many animals as you can.
Depending on the amount and type of animal you hunt, you will get a score.
The highest three contenders will get rewards from His Majesty.
Helping each other is not allowed, but sabotaging is. It depends on you if you want to win.
If you are caught breaking the rules, you will be punished severely!
Now, begin!