Chapter 31

Dianne let out a shriek.

“How am I supposed to show my face at an imperial ball? The Founding Day Ball, of all things?!”

“And why shouldn’t you?” came the calm response.

Sir Reussen watched her pace frantic circles around the drawing room, his face as composed as ever. For the first time, Dianne resented his infuriating lack of urgency.

“I haven’t even debuted in my hometown’s social season! I’m not a proper noble lady!”

“In my eyes, Miss Ortenza, you’re a fine lady.”

“That’s kind of you, but not exactly helpful right now.”

This was the Founding Day ball held at the Imperial Palace. The Emperor, the Princess, and the highest echelons of the empire’s elite would all be present. Dianne, with no title, no name of consequence, would stick out like a loose thread in a tapestry. If she made it through the evening without the princess publicly humiliating her, she’d count it a miracle.

Sir Reussen still looked as though he didn’t quite grasp the problem.

“What exactly is it that’s troubling you?”

“The only people I know are His Majesty, Her Highness, Lady Ornin, Grand Duchess Ervinzel, and Count Ervinzel!”

“…That sounds like a fairly important guest list to me.”

“I can’t just hover around them! I’d stick out like a sore thumb!”

“If you had a companion who could stay by your side the whole time, that would solve the problem.”

Sir Reussen said with ease.

“Would I be acceptable?”

Dianne stopped tugging at her hair to look up at him.

“You’d accompany me?”

“If you’d like, of course. A member of the Imperial Guard won’t draw much attention.”

Dianne nearly threw herself into his arms on the spot. Instead, she managed to give a polite nod, holding in the flood of gratitude she felt.

“I’ll repay this favor. I promise.”

“I believe you have a tendency to underestimate yourself, Miss Ortenza.”

“Let’s just call it a healthy sense of self-awareness.”

One problem had been solved. But a bigger one remained.

“…This really won’t do, will it, Cora?”

Dianne gestured to her dress, and Cora shook her head with a soft sigh.

It was something Dianne usually wore when watching over Erin during gatherings at the Ervinzel grand duchy, but there was no denying it was far too simple for a banquet at the Imperial Palace

Groaning, Dianne collapsed back onto the bed and covered her face.

Cora spoke up hesitantly.

“Couldn’t you borrow a gown from Grand Duchess Ervinzel?”

“We’re two completely different sizes. And even if I had it altered, I couldn’t return it to Her Grace that way.”

Sure, the Grand Duchess would probably say it was fine, but Dianne didn’t want that. She was already being treated too generously. Just because she lacked a suitable gown didn’t mean she wanted to be gifted something as extravagant as formal eveningwear.

The gold coins the Grand Duchess had given her as travel expenses still lay untouched. But there wasn’t enough time to have a dress made from scratch, and Dianne didn’t have the rank or reputation to storm into a dressmaker’s shop and demand they drop everything for her.

Her head throbbed. She couldn’t possibly show up on Sir Reussen’s arm dressed like this. It would only disgrace him.

She was spiraling into a pit of despair when someone knocked on her bedroom door.

Cora, who’d been pacing anxiously, went to check, and returned with her cheeks flushed bright pink.

“Miss Dianne, it’s an attendant from the Emperor’s Palace! You need to come see this.”

Dianne sprang up, hurriedly tidied her hair, and went out to the drawing room. Cora hadn’t been exaggerating. Standing quietly at the edge of the room was an attendant Dianne recognized instantly. The same one who had once brought her tea leaves and ribbon as a “gift” from the Emperor.

With his usual calm, the attendant handed a large parcel to Cora and an envelope to Dianne. She opened the letter with trembling hands and began to read.

To Miss Dianne Ortenza,

I’ll accept your thanks in person at the banquet.

— Rezion Catalos.

Once the attendant was gone, Dianne and Cora tore into the parcel in a whirlwind of silk and anticipation. There were three boxes, neatly stacked by size.

With trembling hands, Dianne opened the smallest first. Inside gleamed a set of sapphire jewelry. A necklace and earrings so brilliant they seemed to light up the entire room. The moment the lid came off, the atmosphere brightened. There was no need to guess at the value, it was immediately evident.

The second box revealed a pair of exquisitely made shoes. The third contained a blue evening gown. Cora gasped aloud

“It’s the same color as the ribbon His Majesty gave you!”

Dianne sank onto the edge of the bed, still clutching the lid in her hands.

There was no denying it now. The feeling rising in her chest, curling up from somewhere deep and quiet, was unmistakable. Excitement. Thrill.

This was the second gift she had received from the Emperor. The first could have been dismissed as coincidence. But a second? There was clear favor in that.

Reason shouted that this wasn’t right, but she was happy. Irrationally, breathlessly happy. The thought of Rezion Catalos, choosing these things himself, holding her in mind as he selected them… it made her heart pound like she’d been running.

But once the rush faded, what remained was a question.

‘Why? Why is he doing all of this?’

Had it been any other man, she would’ve assumed he was courting her. But Rezion Catalos was a gentleman. And Dianne couldn’t believe, not for a single moment, that he would try to seduce her so carelessly.

‘Something serious…? No, of course not.’

She couldn’t allow herself to imagine it, not even in her dreams. She scolded herself for even letting it cross her mind.

Cora, blissfully unaware of the storm raging in Dianne’s mind, bounced with excitement.

“Quick, try it on! If it needs adjusting, we’ll fix it right away.”

“…Do we even have time for that?”

“Of course! This is the Imperial Palace.”

Dianne nodded faintly, defeated.

Every single one of her problems had been solved. It was as though the universe had inevitably decided that Dianne Ortenza would attend this banquet.

‘Is this really okay?’

Even so, a sticky, uneasy question continued to linger.