Time quietly slipped by as night descended outside the castle.
The prelude to the banquet had passed, and with some food in their stomachs, the nobles present became ever more lively, even to the point where signs of open confrontation began to show.
There were no true fools among the nobles who attended this banquet—even Synott Lavaud, a noble known by all as foolish, clearly understood there were things one simply must not do.
Everyone knew that a storm was soon to hit the royal capital. To survive this challenge—and perhaps profit from it—they would need to make the right decisions at this very banquet.
It was no exaggeration to say that this was the most important chance for the neutral faction to take a stand.
The representative for the Princess’s camp at the banquet was Duke Holz. He himself was a master-class mage, and could be considered the most powerful individual present.
His eyes were sharp and bright, his back ramrod straight, making him look exceedingly shrewd.
On the Prince’s side, their representative was Felix Reinhardt. His earlier speech had won him the favor of many nobles, and now he smiled amiably as he conversed with the younger guests around him.
Together, they had woven a massive web of interests throughout the hall, its connections so tangled that none could remain unaffected.
So—wasn’t this scene just too bizarre?
Aurelia had her arm linked through El’s right arm, her radiant smile dazzling.
Standing expressionlessly on El’s left was Ivena. No one looked her way, but El was on pins and needles.
“You don’t have to mind me, young master. Don’t make the Duke’s daughter suspicious.”
The maid’s voice was as gentle as a breeze whispering past his ear.
How could he not mind? Wasn’t Ivena angry now? She had been gathering information for him all this time, and the moment Aurelia showed up, he—
“Are you feeling tired? It’s all Uncle’s fault, keeping you chatting for so long… Why don’t we go up to the viewing gallery on the second floor and take a rest?”
Aurelia noticed El’s off color and asked considerately.
After Synott, none of the remaining nobles were likely to offer El any useful information.
Once she had finished her own social rounds, Aurelia had sought out El, and together they had received several other nobles.
The most troublesome among them was Marquis Garsen—Aurelia’s uncle. His gaze was piercing, but his attitude was unexpectedly mild.
El had a constant feeling that he wasn’t looking at the Count of Regis, but at someone with another identity altogether.
“But I must say, I was surprised. Marquis Garsen told me that the reason your family’s Ragdoll Cat is so well-behaved is because, when you were a child, you actually had a fight with it…”
They found a sofa and sat down. From here, they could see the hall below—still that awkward composition of three.
The image of adorable Aurelia, brawling tooth and nail with a Ragdoll Cat, flashed through El’s mind.
He couldn’t help himself; it had taken everything not to laugh along when Marquis Garsen had burst out in laughter.
Aurelia blushed, grabbed a bunch of grapes nearby, and stuffed them into El’s mouth: “No more of that!”
Ivena: Stare—
El choked on the grapes in his mouth. He chewed and chewed, but still couldn’t swallow.
Fortunately, Ivena fetched a glass of juice from the side, cooling it to the perfect temperature with magic and handing it to El with thoughtful care.
El gave her a grateful look, gulped down the juice, and finally felt much better.
Ivena’s stiff lips curled into the faintest of smiles.
Through it all, Aurelia seemed completely unaware of the presence of the elven lady—even though Ivena’s hand had brushed against her own gown.
At some point, the hall’s magic phonograph stopped, and the Musician Ensemble specially hired for the banquet began to play.
The elegant, classical music brought the banquet into another phase. For a moment, the nobles could set aside their intrigues—this was the gentlest part of the evening.
For the young nobles, the ball was often the start of a marvelous encounter, or the making of a memory with their dance partners that would linger long after.
El watched as couples danced gracefully to the music in the ballroom below—like butterflies paired off in flight, faces lit with excited smiles, eyes reflecting each other’s image, easing the tense atmosphere of the banquet.
He turned his head. Aurelia, too, was gazing at the dance floor, her star-blue eyes distant.
“Hey, El, what’s with hiding up here?”
It was Karen. He had finally finished sparring with that group of old men, and after wandering around the hall for a bit, had come up to the second floor to find El.
“The ball’s already started, and you’re still dawdling here?”
El hesitated, glancing at Aurelia. “But…”
“No ‘buts.’ If you ask me, chances like this don’t come often. After chatting with those old geezers, I realized more than ever that youth is precious. In a few years, who knows—you might have to bid farewell to carefree times like these.”
“Enjoy the present while you can. Nothing else matters.” Karen said, shooting Aurelia a knowing look.
Aurelia’s beautiful eyes took on a pleading light as she looked at El.
It shouldn’t be like this… Lya… why are you looking at me like that? You should always be proud, making everyone gaze up in awe at your brilliance…
Be careful.
El took her hand and led her to the dance floor. “Of course. This is exactly why I came to the banquet.”
You’d better, Karen thought to himself.
The two of them instantly became the focus of the ballroom.
Marquis Garsen muttered, “Finally…”
Other nobles outside the dance floor whispered quietly, while Felice watched the pair, lost in thought.
The promising young Count of Regis and Aurelia, heiress of the Grand Duke of the West—over the past year, their relationship had captured everyone’s attention.
Aurelia had no suitors; by all rights, the shameless young noblemen would not have passed up such a “rare gem” of a lady.
The reason, naturally, was that El had taught them all a memorable lesson. They’d also say, “If you’ve ever seen that lady look at her dance partner, your own thoughts would shrivel away.”
At this moment, Aurelia’s eyes held nothing else. She gazed fixedly at her reflection in El’s pupils, her face so gentle it seemed it could melt water, a passion surging within hot enough to melt El himself.
And El was no different. Her dazzling golden hair, exquisite features, snowy white shoulders—he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
The world beyond the two of them seemed to blur, drifting farther and farther away, until it became nothing more than a silent backdrop.
He gently embraced Aurelia’s waist. As if they had rehearsed countless times, their steps matched in perfect rhythm, closely following the elegant classical music.
The hem of her pure white gown traced one graceful arc after another. Despite the voluminous ballgown, Aurelia’s steps were light and refined—as if this were the true poise of the nobility.
She could feel El’s warmth, his solid chest, his broad hands—each inch of him, something she longed never to let go. How Aurelia wished that time would stop at this very moment.
As the music drew to a close, El and Aurelia stopped moving. Applause sounded around them—not just from the nobles watching outside the floor, but from those who had danced alongside them as well.
In the bright lights, El’s handsome face seemed to Aurelia utterly irresistible.
Aurelia put her arms around his neck, pulled him close, and kissed his lips.
El wasn’t surprised—the mood was simply too perfect. His expression was complicated, but just as Karen had said, best to enjoy the moment and not think about the future for now.
Tonight, after all, it was Aurelia who called the shots.
The surrounding nobles didn’t stop clapping; on the surface at least, everyone was blessing the new couple.
Karen smiled contentedly—this time, he was the MVP, and Aurelia was the lucky winner.
Wald shivered involuntarily. He only hoped that Her Highness the Princess could keep calm when she heard the news, and not lose control like last time.
In the corner, Ivena watched the scene, a gentle smile on her face. But if anyone could truly see the elven lady, they would immediately notice the loneliness and bitterness in her eyes.
“Come with me. There’s something I want to give you.” Aurelia whispered softly in his ear.
Then, with surprising force, she grabbed El’s hand and, under the gaze of the entire crowd, all but ran out of the hall with him in tow.
El barely had time to react, managing only to call back at the castle door, “We’ll just go get some fresh air!”
“I feel ten years younger,” Marquis Garsen commented.
Duke Holz chuckled as well. “The young people these days are so romantic.”
Their rebellious dash didn’t stir up much commotion; the older nobles just smiled knowingly, while the younger nobles—especially the ladies—were left with a lasting impression of the pair’s sweetness, talking about it for a long time after.