Chapter 125 - A Smile and Punishment

The first Festival of the Beginning of Spring to be held in the territory of Grand Duchess Valdrova.

The village of Hestia celebrated the budding of spring with lively music, laughter, and the scent of alcohol.

The nobles’ social gathering held its preliminary reception after noon, when the sun had tilted halfway toward the western sky.

Most of those who arrived early were young noble ladies and gentlemen mingling to expand their social connections.

The later one arrived, the more it demonstrated that person’s influence.

Olivia arrived just before sunset and entered the ballroom.

Even though she was not the host, everyone’s attention naturally turned to her.

No one said it aloud, but every person present—even the host—knew it.

The true centerpiece of this gathering was none other than Olivia Arken.

"You are as beautiful as ever today, Your Highness."

"I heard you pulled some strings so we could attend the Festival of the Beginning of Spring. Thank you so very much."

The members of Golden Rose showered her with flattery.

Since Ferda had already been asked in advance to make sure they were all invited, every single one of them had naturally been allowed to attend.

As they faithfully fulfilled their role, it was only right that she rewarded them in return.

"Of course. We share a friendship that binds us together, don’t we?"

"Just last year, I couldn’t even dream of setting foot in an event like this... I’m so touched I think I might cry."

"Ah, my makeup’s about to run too. At this rate, I’ll end up looking like a ghost bride."

"A ghost bride? Don’t say something so frightening."

The young ladies burst into cheerful laughter.

Among all the noble ladies present, none found this more exhausting than Olivia.

She had to offer admiration and comfort she did not truly feel, and she also had to endure the gazes of men she had no interest in.

Still... this isn’t as irritating as the other social gatherings.

It was strange.

Was it because there was someone she secretly looked forward to seeing?

She felt less exhausted than usual and was even able to keep up her performance with surprising ease.

As evening fell, Ferda entered the banquet hall.

"His Excellency the Regent of the Kingdom, Ferda Valdrova, has arrived!"

The music stopped, and everyone lowered their heads toward Ferda.

The young ladies of Golden Rose immediately began whispering excitedly.

"So that’s Regent Ferda Valdrova."

"Just as the rumors said... he’s young and handsome..."

Perhaps it was the unique aura surrounding him.

Quite a few young ladies felt a flutter in their hearts unlike anything they experienced when looking at men their own age.

At the same time, they repeatedly stole glances at Olivia.

They wanted to see with their own eyes whether the gossip was true.

Olivia revealed no opening whatsoever.

She simply wore the same polite, businesslike smile she showed every other man.

Now he’ll begin the opening address.

That speech had been written by none other than herself.

Having attended countless social gatherings, she had carefully crafted the perfect address while considering the audience’s age and status.

Now it was Ferda’s turn to deliver it.

The speech began.

The moment he opened his mouth, astonishment filled the hall.

His clear diction, unique to a Mage, combined with his composed presence to overwhelm the audience to a degree that rivaled even the finest orators.

So the rumors about him moving those old men in the Grand Ducal Council weren’t exaggerated after all.

All she could feel now was how shallow her own imagination had been.

Without realizing it, Olivia pictured something.

She imagined that man overthrowing the Arken Empire’s Emperor and reigning as the new Emperor himself.

The image made her heart pound.

The speech concluded, and thunderous applause filled the hall.

Olivia applauded as well before returning to the members of Golden Rose.

The young ladies, their faces flushed bright red, could speak of nothing but Ferda.

"Isn’t the Regent absolutely wonderful?"

"I know, right? If only he didn’t have a fiancée, I’d be tempted to go seduce him."

Combined with his dignified presence and his remarkable speech, he had thoroughly captured the hearts of the women present.

For some reason, Olivia found their reactions unpleasant.

Even though everything had gone exactly as planned.

"Oh my, he’s coming this way."

The young ladies casually brushed back their hair, pretending to remain graceful while acting as though they were chatting among themselves.

"Thank you for your help with the Festival of the Beginning of Spring."

Ferda expressed his gratitude to Olivia.

"It was nothing. The honor was mine to be of assistance."

"Then I hope you enjoy the evening."

The two simply exchanged greetings in a cool, businesslike manner before parting.

The young ladies wore expressions suggesting they wondered whether they had imagined everything.

Tilting her head naturally, Olivia asked them,

"Is something the matter?"

"No, not at all."

Not at all?

Their minds were undoubtedly overflowing with thoughts of the scandal.

Had there been even the slightest hint of impropriety, they would have been delighted to have something juicy to gossip about.

But there had been absolutely nothing.

Now that the seed of suspicion had been planted, time itself would gradually wear away their curiosity.

"Come to think of it, the Regent hasn’t smiled even once."

"I thought he’d at least smile around someone close to him."

Of course not.

Olivia answered inwardly without joining the conversation.

That man’s smile was different from the cheap smiles men wore when driven by youthful impulses.

It was a smile even Olivia herself had never seen.

Did it not possess the ultimate value, forged from pure love alone?

Olivia was happy.

Happy that she alone knew the worth of that smile.

It meant she was different from these fools who mindlessly chased after men.

And it once again reminded her just how noble that man truly was.

The ball began.

Bees flew toward the flowers, and Olivia was no exception.

Ignorant bees that rushed toward her without knowing their place.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you. Though I am unworthy, I would like to ask Your Highness for a da—"

"Oh my, why don’t you dance with me instead?"

"...Pardon?"

"Come this way!"

Another young lady seized the hand that had been reaching toward Olivia, and the bewildered young nobleman was dragged onto the dance floor.

The way Golden Rose swallowed up every bee that approached them resembled a Venus flytrap devouring insects.

This was how Golden Rose operated—matches made this way often led all the way to engagements.

I’d better get ready.

Once the first dance ended, Ferda would come.

And Olivia would refuse him.

Everyone would be watching.

At that moment, every suspicion would come to an end.

While waiting, Olivia carefully calculated the exact expression she would wear and how she would carry herself.

"Oh?"

"Oh my."

Here it starts again.

Another childish outburst from one of the young ladies.

Just as she was about to sigh inwardly—

"The Regent... he’s smiling?"

Smiling?

What was she talking about?

Olivia turned her gaze toward the dance floor.

By coincidence, Ferda immediately caught her eye.

The instant she saw him, a crack spread across the mask she wore.

...He’s really smiling?

She wondered if she had somehow seen it wrong.

The music of the ball filled the hall.

Men and women moved like schools of fish gliding across a lake.

Among them stood Ferda, smiling as he chatted with someone.

Her eyes instinctively shifted toward the person facing him.

Who... is that young lady?

Freckles.

Black hair.

No matter how she looked at her, the girl was less attractive than herself, and even her clothing lagged behind current fashion.

She certainly wasn’t Valdrova.

As far as Olivia knew, when Valdrova took human form, she appeared as a woman with crimson hair and two pairs of horns.

Which meant she was nothing more than an insignificant extra whom Ferda had approached solely for the sake of the scenario.

Yet...

Why is he smiling like that?

Something felt wrong.

I danced with him much longer than that slut did.

We danced for four hours, and he never smiled.

Not at me.

Not even once.

Almost reflexively, Olivia opened her folding fan and hid her mouth behind it.

The mask covering that part of her face had shattered.

Trying to regain her composure, Olivia objectively analyzed herself.

...Am I jealous?

No.

That couldn’t be.

Ferda loved Valdrova.

Olivia treasured that love.

She admired Ferda precisely because she cherished that unwavering devotion.

To her, he was like a god who moved her heart.

...I understand now.

She was angry because he had lied.

He acted as though he were different from other men, yet in the end, he was exactly the same.

He smiled so easily at other women, but not at her.

Because he knew she was special.

He intended to keep me wrapped around his finger like that...

Yes.

That was it.

In the end, you were no different from any other man.

The music came to a stop.

Ferda exchanged farewells with that shameless woman before turning around.

Then he walked toward Olivia.

Exactly as Olivia’s scenario had dictated.

Olivia herself acknowledged what would happen next.

What she was about to do had never been part of the plan.

It was an impulsive act born entirely of emotion.

And yet...

She knew she could not stop herself.

Only one sentence echoed over and over inside her mind.

"Very well."

You deserve to be punished.

***

Everything had been proceeding exactly according to plan when Ferda suddenly found himself in an utterly bewildering situation.

What is she doing?

According to the plan, he would ask her to dance, and she would refuse.

Instead, contrary to the scenario she herself had proposed, she accepted his invitation.

Ferda was not the only one surprised.

The young noble ladies, who had naturally expected her to refuse, stared wide-eyed, unable even to hide their astonishment behind their fans as they looked back and forth between the two.

Just what is she trying to do?

Olivia was cool-headed.

When it came to matters like this, she was even more calculating and perceptive than Ferda.

She knew perfectly well that if a scandal broke out, the woman would suffer far more than the man.

A man only needed to find another woman.

But the moment a woman was branded a temptress, her social life was effectively over.

There was no way Olivia failed to understand that.

Is there something I’m missing?

Ferda wondered whether there was some rational reason he simply could not perceive.

He needed an explanation.

"Would you escort me?"

Olivia extended a hand covered by a silk glove.

Which meant...

He had to take that hand.

He had to dance with Olivia here.

He knew that was what he had to do.

Yet at the same time, it felt as though he were committing something unforgivable.

The weight of that feeling clashed with his sense of duty, leaving Ferda’s outstretched hand wavering in confusion.

Holding her hand and dancing with her... was that really the right thing to do?

Just as he was about to place his hand over hers—

"Show proper respect!"

A thunderous voice echoed through the hall.

The one who spoke was not an official dispatched from the Empire, but Luri.

She, who normally never involved herself in human banquets, overwhelmed the entire hall with her presence.

There was only one occasion when she ever stepped forward.

The arrival of Valdrova.

"Her Highness, the Grand Duchess, has arrived!"

The doors opened.

Ferda doubted his own eyes.

It was not the dragon armor he had seen countless times within this castle.

She stood at roughly 160 centimeters tall.

Crimson hair.

Two pairs of horns.

A magnificent dress of brilliant red accented with gold, perfectly matching her hair.

She walked gracefully across the carpet.

Everyone lowered their heads, expressing both respect and reverence toward the Immortal.

Ferda stared at her in complete fascination.

It felt as though he were standing before the Goddess of Beauty herself.

As Valdrova walked along the carpet, her footsteps suddenly turned toward Ferda.

She came straight toward him.

"..."

Stopping directly in front of him, Valdrova said nothing.

Instead, she quietly extended her hand toward Ferda.

The hostess was inviting the host to dance.

Ferda’s predicament grew even worse.

Olivia had only just invited him to dance.

According to etiquette, he should have postponed Valdrova’s invitation.

Yet if he said that now...

It felt as though the hand suspended before him would fall into empty disappointment.

"Please enjoy some private time with Her Highness the Grand Duchess."

Fortunately, Olivia stepped back without objection.

Ferda took Valdrova’s hand.

He did what Valdrova had always been afraid of.

He adjusted his strength with the utmost care.

He could tell how much painstaking practice she must have gone through to gain such precise control.

He escorted her onto the dance floor.

Carefully, Ferda placed his hand against her.

The softness of her hand.

Its warmth.

And its trembling.

Simply by holding her hand, Ferda understood.

Valdrova knew about the gossip involving Olivia.

I see...

She had not come here because she had found the courage to face everyone.

She had been driven out of her sanctuary.

Driven out by anxiety.

And there was no doubt that Ferda himself had been the source of that anxiety.

I was the one who hurt her.

Guilt tormented Ferda.

The voice of the Shadow Circle whispered into his ear.

It merely laughed at him, as though no words were even necessary.

The moment he had wished for more than anything had finally arrived.

Yet Ferda could feel no joy.

All he could think about was the expression hidden behind that mask.

I have to keep the rhythm...

The music no longer reached his ears, and his steps became increasingly tangled.

The same was true for Valdrova.

Throughout the dance, they repeatedly stepped on each other’s feet, creating the worst possible coordination.

One minute after another passed like an eternity in hell.

Finally, the music came to an end.

Normally they should have released each other’s hands and exchanged bows.

But Valdrova did not let go.

Instead, she rose onto her tiptoes and whispered into Ferda’s ear.

"...Mr. Ferda."

Ferda’s heart sank.

It was not the voice modifier.

It was her real voice.

That trembling voice carried the delicate moisture of dew at dawn.

"Please... speak."

"...Please... don’t let go... of this hand."

She pleaded softly.

"I... I don’t know where I might run if you do. If you let go... I’m sure... I’ll act in a way unworthy of a Monarch. I... I might embarrass you, Mr. Ferda..."

Her uncertain voice trembled more and more with every word.

Ferda knew exactly what he needed to say.

"I’ll lead you."

Holding her hand tightly, Ferda walked with her out of the banquet hall.

He did not even bother saying farewell to the guests.

Etiquette.

Reputation.