“I found it in Father’s office.” How marvelous. Truly unbelievable. Digging that out from among all His Majesty the King's endless papers took genuine talent. Watching Violetta’s rose-like countenance, I smiled.
Right at that moment—
“Their Noble Majesties, the King and Queen of Winchester, and Duke Prodiad are entering!”
At the familiar announcement, the double doors swung open. His Majesty the King and Her Majesty the Queen walked in, followed closely by Khalid.
Taking in the sight of him, I immediately realized why he had not escorted me. Khalid was dressed in full military regalia. As a general rule, a knight attending a banquet in uniform did not escort a lady. A uniform was, quite literally, the emblem of the Order of Knights; the Order did not belong to a single lady, but served as the royal family’s sword and shield.
His Majesty the King and Her Majesty the Queen descended the dais steps, and Khalid, following behind them, spotted me in an instant. A flicker of surprise crossed his face before it softened into a faint smile, prompting me to curl the corners of my lips in response.
Once Khalid finished his entrance, His Majesty the King and Her Majesty the Queen took their seats at the high table, and the assembled crowd split to either side around them. Khalid now stood with an austere expression, entirely unlike the tender look he had given me only moments before.
Drawing my gaze away from him, I moved closer to His Majesty the King alongside Carlyle. Mother had mentioned having business elsewhere this evening, which meant that, setting aside members of the royal family, I practically held the highest rank present; not a single soul contested my position. In fact, people stepped aside to clear an easy path for me.
Holding Carlyle’s hand as I came to a halt near His Majesty the King, I found Khalid standing directly across from me by pure coincidence. Pleased by this stroke of luck, I smiled, and he answered with a subtle smirk of his own. Seeing the noble ladies around us staring blankly at him, I resolved to tell him later that he should only ever smile in front of me.
“Today—”
His Majesty the King’s deep, resonant voice rang out across the banquet hall.
“—is a gathering to celebrate the triumph of Winchester, and an occasion to honor the arduous efforts of those who rendered great service in this war. Duke Prodiad, Lady Dirnant, and all who contributed greatly to this conflict and the negotiations—I hope every one of you will thoroughly enjoy this banquet.”
“We are deeply honored, Your Majesty.” “I shall yield the first dance to Duke Prodiad and Lady Dirnant.”
His Majesty the King let out a hearty laugh as he made the declaration. While royal banquets traditionally opened with the King and Queen leading the first dance as the highest-ranking figures present, the monarch occasionally bestowed that privilege on others. I had largely anticipated His Majesty’s intention, so I smoothly caught the folds of my dress, curtsied with a smile, and signaled my humble acceptance.
The nobles promptly parted to open the floor. Because this held the symbolic weight of an Opening Ceremony, I straightened my spine and minded every movement to ensure I would not make the slightest misstep. Then, I offered an elegant smile to Khalid as he strode toward me.
“May I have this dance?”
The moment I laid my hand over his, the orchestra struck up a waltz. The melody was brisk yet grand, perfectly suited to the Winchester royal court.
Half-led by his hand into the center of the hall, I found the rhythm straightforward enough to follow. On top of that, thanks to my childhood tutor’s spartan training, which had hauled me up from two left feet into… well, perhaps not a dancing queen, but certainly someone who moved with poise, it was hardly a daunting task. Looking up with a smile at Khalid, who stood a good two handspans taller than me, I stepped into the tempo.
When his cool hand touched my bare skin, his trembling fingers betrayed that I was not the only one feeling tense. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but with so many watching eyes, he seemed to deliberately keep his silence.
His fingertips pressed against my lower waist burned like fire. Had I known this would happen, I never would have agreed to an open-back dress, no matter what. Madame Gisele’s insistence that my waistline was far too lovely to hide floated into my mind. I was well aware of my own figure, of course. My childhood etiquette teacher, who believed that whatever else failed, posture had to remain upright, had drilled me with unyielding discipline despite my ducal lineage, leaving my posture flawless even after years of desk work. Regardless of that pride, his fingers directly touching my bare skin made me bite my lip unawares. Isn't this a bit… daring?
Ah.
He caught and supported my waist. As I arched backward, the sudden downward shift of my center of gravity made me momentarily dizzy, but more than that, catching his distinct scent mingled with the cologne he often wore ignited an altogether dizzying sensation. His lips lingering a breath away, his warmth, and that intoxicating scent threatening to consume me—every single thing about him was wickedly seductive.
Straightening back up, his hand guided me into a spin that opened our distance, only for me to reflexively turn back along his arm and tuck into his chest, my senses growing hopelessly dazed all the while.
Before I realized it, the piece had ended. Only when thunderous applause erupted around us did my wits snap back. Slipping back into the mask of an elegant noble lady, I offered a soft smile. Then, taking his hand, I stepped away from the center of the hall.
Since Khalid and I were not officially courting, I reluctantly moved to let go of his hand. But just as I began to pull away, he seized my hand firmly, keeping me in place. When I turned to him in surprise, wondering what had possessed him, he offered a gentle smile and pressed a kiss to the back of my hand.
The spot flared as if seared by fire, leaving me momentarily dazed before I smoothed my expression back into an elegant smile. Shortly after, we went our separate ways.
“That was quite the passionate dance.”
Violetta sashayed over, wearing a look that was… well, how should one even describe it? She looked like a pervert who had just peeked at someone bathing. Cr-Crude? No, that hardly seemed a fitting word for a princess. Pondering the thought, I gave her a flat, unimpressed stare.
“Wipe that nasty look off your face.”
That choice of words was far cruder than anything I had contemplated. When I turned toward the voice that had broken my train of thought, I saw Olivia walking over, a smirk playing on her lips, and thought, 'Of course.' It had been far too long.
Violetta pouted, shooting Olivia a harmless, petty glare.
“Nasty? Isn't that a rather treasonous choice of words?”
“The problem is that you enjoy gossip far too much, Your Highness.”
Dressed in a deep, dark crimson gown, Olivia drew every eye simply by standing there. While she lacked the striking beauty of Isabel or Violetta, her cool, pale skin and ruby-like eyes gave her features the delicate precision of a porcelain doll in a shop window. As always, her face remained entirely devoid of emotion.
At the same time, the reason she could behave this way was that the three of us were widely known to be close friends. Well, setting aside that Violetta and I were cousins, Olivia’s closeness—or rather, her familiarity with us—stemmed from her extraordinary, dazzling talent, and the fact that no matter how lavishly Violetta and I treated her, she never once overstepped her bounds.
Hmm, or does she? Just as I was wondering how Olivia had ended up packaged alongside Violetta and me every single day, she spoke again, pulling my attention back.
“So, are you seeing Duke Prodiad?”
Right, exactly this.
Olivia’s uncanny knack for reading people was terrifyingly sharp. Ever since our Academy days, she had pointed out the very things I missed; she never stepped over the line, but she was razor-sharp. While she could occasionally be excessive, I knew she never spared a single glance for people who didn't interest her, which actually made me enjoy crossing wits with her.
Thinking back to that history class where our friendship had truly begun—the day I argued the extreme Theory of Loser's Submission—reminded me all over again of her piercing intellect. For the record, she had stood on the complete opposite end as a thorough Anti-war Activist.
When I gave Olivia an exasperated look for demonstrating intuition that transcended academic bounds and penetrated daily life, Violetta nodded eagerly.
“Yep. Hot, isn’t it?”
Mindful of the surrounding eyes, her voice dropped considerably. Olivia looked between the two of us and let out a soft snort at the answer. There she goes, doing that smirk again.
“And here I thought Duke Prodiad had lost his mind.”
“Turns out he’s quite clever.”
Her words bordered on cutting, leaving me flabbergasted, though I knew this was her own way of paying a compliment. Violetta rolled her eyes slightly and chimed in.
“Right? Exactly. Scarlett is so much better than Isabel.”
“Obviously.”
“…Excuse me, could you two listen to me for a second?”
Watching Olivia and Violetta carry on their deadpan debate, I burst out laughing. Seeing my reaction, Olivia spoke up once more.
“Is that why Isabel is acting like that?”
“Well, if you mean the dress, it’s not because of me and Khalid. She doesn’t know yet.”
“Oh, Olivia, let me tell you something juicy. Prodiad and Wither broke off their engagement. It’s being announced tomorrow.”
“Well, knowing her, it’s not particularly surprising. Still, for someone who claims to be your best friend, she wasn’t the first to approach you. Look at her crawling over now.”
“That’s because… Wait, what? Isabel is coming over?”
Pausing to filter Olivia’s harsh phrasing in my head, I whipped around. Sure enough, Isabel was making her way toward Violetta, Olivia, and me with a radiant smile. Watching several noble ladies part to let her through, I turned to Violetta and Olivia with absolute despair written across my face.
“Is there any way I can run away? The annulment hasn’t even been announced yet. On such a lovely day, do I really have to deal with her…”
“Go on, walk up to her and say it: ‘Oh my, your man was absolutely incredible. I just had to take him off your hands. Ho-ho-ho!’ Hurry up.”
Olivia grabbed my shoulders, spun me around, and gave my back a push. At Violetta’s parting words, I threw her an incredulous look that asked what on earth she was babbling about.
Of course, I had no intention of easily forgiving Isabel, but there was a proper procedure to follow! First wait for the annulment announcement, right? Only then could I go over and either put on a vixen act with a wicked laugh, or play the victim and squeeze out forced tears. With Isabel completely in the dark, I couldn't very well stride over and declare, 'I'm dating your fiancé, congratulations on the broken engagement!'
With His Majesty the King present, where would that leave me if she burst into tears? Besides, judging by the newly updated impression of her character I had formed over the past few days, Isabel was liable to unleash a torrent of weeping right here, dragging both Khalid and me into deep water.
I put a smile back on as I watched Isabel draw near. Good grief, she really was breathtakingly beautiful. Looking at her angelic, pure white figure as she closed the distance, I broke into a bright, welcoming smile. Exactly as I always did, as if genuinely delighted to see her.
