Chapter 35

Sir Reussen handed her a glass before turning to Miss Adelasia and bowing politely.

“Good evening, Miss Vellua.”

“Hello, Sir Reussen. Are you Miss Dianne’s escort tonight?”

“So it would seem.”

“No wonder all the gentlemen keep glaring daggers at you.”

The light tease brought an easy laugh from Sir Reussen. Dianne, on the other hand, wanted to grab him by the collar and shake an explanation out of him.

Countess Ornin had clearly stated that the Emperor and the Duke of Vellua were not on friendly terms, and Dianne had seen proof of that herself when the Emperor had coldly shut down any mention of the Princess in front of the Duke. Yet here was the Duke’s daughter helping the Emperor choose a gift, and exchanging friendly, playful banter with one of his trusted royal guards? None of it made sense.

But before Dianne could begin to untangle the confusion, Adelasia took her leave.

“It was lovely meeting you, Miss Dianne. I hope we see each other again soon.”

With a gentle nod to both Dianne and Sir Reussen, Adelasia slipped away into the crowd. As the second-highest-ranking noblewoman in Catalos—second only to the Princess—her departure drew a tide of curious glances and reverent murmurs.

Dianne, cheeks still flushed, brought her wine glass to her lips to hide her face and leaned in to whisper, “Sir Reussen, isn’t the Duke of Vellua known to be politically opposed to His Majesty?”

“He is. Quite clearly, as you’ve just seen.”

Sir Reussen tilted his chin subtly toward the two prominent groups commanding attention in the grand ballroom.

Though the Emperor and Princess had yet to arrive, it was clear who held dominion over the hall in their absence. the Grand Duchess of Ervinzel and her husband on one side, and the Duke and Duchess of Vellua on the other.

Even Dianne, whose understanding of imperial politics was limited, could see the line drawn cleanly down the room. Lords from the East and West that were firm supporters of the Emperor had gathered behind the Grand Duchess, while the Southern nobility had rallied behind the Duke of Vellua, the unmistakable center of the opposition.

‘So they’re the backbone against the alliance with Arathos.’

Dianne’s gaze drifted again to Adelasia’s pale, ethereal face. The young woman stood silently beside her father, nodding politely as he delivered some fervent declaration to his loyal supporters. At least from the outside, she looked every bit the dutiful, obedient daughter.

Sir Reussen, of course, was quick to pick up on Dianne’s unspoken thoughts.

“A child doesn’t get to choose their parents.”

There was an uncharacteristic chill in Sir Reussen’s eyes as he looked toward the Duke of Vellua.

“The Duke is a snake. He has no right to call himself a subject of His Majesty, nor a noble of this Empire.”

“…Then why does His Majesty let him be?” Dianne asked quietly.

“To behead a great serpent, you need a blade just as great.”

His voice was low, but it carried unmistakable hostility. Dianne felt a chill crawl up her bare arms. The Emperor’s loyal knight looked as though he might draw his sword and cut off the Duke’s head right then and there.

Still staring coldly across the room at the Duke of Vellua, Sir Reussen said,

“You should be cautious too, Miss Ortenza. A snake will bite anything it can sink its fangs into.”

“…I’m just a governess. Why would I ever become involved with someone like him?”

Sir Reussen glanced down at her, clearly unconvinced, but said nothing more. Instead, he shifted the topic with ease.

“In any case, judging by the atmosphere, it seems like you’ll be dancing quite a lot tonight, Miss Ortenza.”

The same young men who had swarmed Dianne earlier were still eyeing her from across the room, hopeful and eager. She edged right up against Sir Reussen as if he were her only shield.

“If I danced with all of them, I’d have to crawl all the way back to Oakhall Palace.”

But a lady couldn’t simply refuse a gentleman’s invitation to dance. There was only one way around it. She had to prevent the invitations altogether.

With a half-pleading look in her eyes, Dianne said, “I beg you, Sir Reussen. Stay by my side until the end of the night.”

“That’s not difficult… but do you dislike dancing?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Then why—”

“What’s the point of poking at food you can’t eat? It only leaves both parties unsatisfied.”

“Poking… food you can’t—”

Sir Reussen didn’t get to finish his question.

The grand ballroom’s towering entrance, shut tight after the last guest had arrived, swung open with a flourish. Trumpets blared.

Laughter, music, and every murmured conversation vanished into silence.

And in that reverent hush, all fell to one knee.

The Emperor and the Princess were making their entrance.