The Extra Who Shouldn't Exist novel Chapter 297

Chapter 297: Chapter 297 : The next ruler (2)

Inside the royal palace, the throne room stood heavy with tension.

The grand throne at the far end—once occupied by King Edward—now sat empty beneath a banner bearing the imperial crest. Sunlight filtered weakly through tall stained-glass windows, casting fractured colors across polished marble floors and towering stone pillars.

The room was crowded.

Dozens of nobles filled the hall, dressed in their finest attire—brocade coats, embroidered dresses, jeweled pins, and family crests. Yet, despite the splendor, there was a clear sense of imbalance. Several key figures were missing.

Duke Reynard, Arthur williams , Marquis Starlight, Augustus Sinclair, and a number of other high-ranking nobles were nowhere to be seen—they were all currently at the borders, holding off invaders and trying to keep the empire from crumbling.

What remained in the capital were those who could afford to stay behind... and those more interested in power than in war.

The royal court had split cleanly into three factions.

On the right side of the hall stood the largest group—a dense cluster of nobles rallying behind the first prince, Joseph Evans Avaloria. He stood among them, dressed in overly decorated finery, his posture slouched with entitled arrogance. Joseph had inherited his father’s white hair, but his eyes were a soft brown like his mother, Queen Regina.

Despite his status, he was infamous as a good-for-nothing prince who spent his days drowning in wine and squandering money in pleasure districts. Yet many supported him, for one simple reason:

Queen Regina herself stood behind him.

To them, supporting Joseph meant currying favor with the queen. And Regina favored him precisely because he was easy to control. Through him, she intended to rule the empire from the shadows, using the eldest prince as nothing more than a puppet.

Opposite them, on the left, stood the faction of the second prince—Lucas Evans Avaloria.

Unlike his brother, Lucas had clawed his way up through sheer effort. His supporters were fewer than Joseph’s, but each one had been carefully secured through deals, pressure, and fear. Only Lucas knew how many blackmails, threats, and dirty deeds—including murder—had paved his path to this point.

Lucas was sharp, ambitious, and dangerous.

He bore all of Edward’s features—white hair and amethyst eyes, a cold regal presence like a sharpened blade. Among the three siblings, he was the most formidable contender for the throne.

At the far side of the hall, not too numerous and clearly outmatched in presence, stood a smaller, scattered group of nobles. Most of them were low-ranking—barons and minor lords.

They formed the third faction.

The faction of the youngest royal... Charlotte Evans Avaloria.

Compared to the others, they were undeniably the weakest. But they were also the ones whose loyalty was the least tainted by greed.

Suddenly, Joseph rose from his ornate chair to the right of the throne.

"I get tears in my eyes every time I see this empty throne," he began, one hand dramatically pressed to his chest. "The throne where our beloved father once sat."

A murmur rippled through the hall.

"But now," Joseph continued loudly, "he is no more. Our lands are attacked day by day, eaten away by forces we barely understand. In such a time, we need a king—someone to lead us out of this predicament, to become the backbone of this empire, and to protect our people."

He straightened his shoulders as if he bore some great weight. "And as you all know, it is the duty of the eldest son to inherit that role. My claim to the throne comes first as the firstborn. I want all of your support."

He turned pointedly toward the left side of the hall. "And Lucas... you should give up your claim. Only I am the rightful heir."

His supporters nodded and voiced their agreement, some clapping, others shouting their approval.

Lucas, however, suddenly burst into laughter.

"Hear that?" he said, laughing as he leaned forward. "Because you were born a few years earlier, that alone makes you the rightful heir? What era do you think this is?"

His gaze sharpened, the smile fading. "For all these years, I busted my ass to become worthy of Father’s legacy. While you—" his eyes swept over Joseph in disgust—"were getting drunk and wasting time with whores."

Snickers ran through Lucas’s side of the court.

"Hell, I can defeat you with one hand tied," Lucas said coldly. "You’re unawakened trash. Do you think someone with your pathetic strength is fit to rule anything?"

His supporters laughed openly. Some clapped him on the back, others smirked at Joseph without restraint.

Joseph’s face turned beet red. "What did you say?!"

Lucas tilted his head. "See, everyone? The man who wants to rule this nation doesn’t even have proper hearing."

Laughter erupted again from Lucas’s faction.

Veins bulged on Joseph’s forehead as anger bubbled up inside him.

Before he could lash out, another voice echoed through the throne room.

"Did you all forget me already?"

Heads turned toward the grand doors as they opened.

A girl stepped into the throne room—Charlotte Evans Avaloria.

At barely seventeen, her beauty was already striking. Her long white hair flowed down her back in smooth, soft waves, but something had changed—the very tips of her hair were now tinged with a faint purple hue, subtle yet unmistakable. Her amethyst eyes, just like her father’s, shone beneath delicately shaped brows, carrying both fragility and stubborn strength.

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