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“Whether that Count has a child out of wedlock or not is none of my concern, but I am worried that Your Highness's heart might be wounded. For the past few years, Your Highness has prioritized communication with Count Valentin above all else. Since you have been looking forward to reuniting with him for a year now, it is certain that disappointment will find you just as easily.”
No, aren't they taking this too far? What does that matter between friends?
Valentin is not an irresponsible person. Therefore, if he had a child, he surely did so with the intention of taking responsibility. If anything, shouldn't I congratulate him?
‘And in the first place, Valentin isn't even my goal for today.’
“Fedora is right, Lara. You should consider yourself lucky if all he has is a child. If he returns with his hair all gone, exposing everything from his forehead to the crown of his head, wouldn't your affection—and even your pity—vanish? It would be the absolute worst if he had a potbelly to boot.”
Bald and pot-bellied?
Of course... it was hard to imagine Valentin with such an appearance... but men generally lose their hair and get bellies as they age. Aging a bit early would simply mean he had suffered that much. If anything, shouldn't I respect him for it?
Sergei, who had slipped in beside Ivan, looked at me with a smirk.
“I would actually prefer it if Count Valentin returned in such a state and Lara was disappointed. It galls me how he treats Lara like some grand mentor, brother, and lover combined, despite barely replying to letters once every couple of months.”
“Now that is a sentiment befitting a candidate for a lover chosen by Tanya.”
“What I'm trying to say is, please steel your heart, Your Highness. The world doesn't collapse just because one man has changed. Please keep that in mind.”
“It is about time I abandoned my fantasies about the opposite sex.”
“I think it was a good decision not to refuse Lara's request.”
What is wrong with everyone? My goal is the Statue of Roo. Reuniting with Valentin is just a bonus that happened along the way. Have I accidentally ended up leaving just to watch a friend's disappointing transformation?
Feeling displeased, I ignored their chatter as if I hadn't heard it and left the room. Now it was truly time to attend the ball.
Today's host was Duchess Illyn, and the Illyn family is one of the most historic houses in Ohala.
Several years had passed since the Duke of Illyn died suddenly and the Duchess, a banquet enthusiast, inherited the position of head of the house. With her flamboyant eloquence and unrivaled fashion sense, Duchess Illyn had risen to become an unparalleled powerhouse in Ohala's social circles.
As famous as she was, rumors about Duchess Illyn were abundant. Among them, one reputation that no one could deny was that she was a flirt.
‘Commonly known as the Hunter Seeking Three Men.’
Goodness, how could such a childish and intriguing nickname exist? The "three men" mentioned here are as follows:
First, the Duchess's lover, who changes every two years. Second, a new husband for the eldest daughter, Therese. Third, a husband candidate for the second daughter, Oksana, who will make her debut this year.
Face, fortune, looks, and ability. The Illyn mother and daughters were perfect in every way, except for one thing: their luck with men. Duchess Illyn and her own biological mother became widows after only four years of marriage; the eldest daughter, Therese, divorced after one year of marriage and was currently searching for a remarriage partner; and the second daughter, Oksana, had her engagement broken before her coming-of-age ceremony.
Duchess Illyn, who previously only had to find a husband for her eldest, was expected to become even busier as her second daughter's debut approached. The prevailing opinion was that today's ball was essentially the foundation for that, and therefore, it would be obvious that a great deal of care had been put into it... according to Fedora's assessment.
And I, too, agreed with that assessment to some extent.
Indeed, upon stepping out of the carriage, the Illyn House in Shaharansk was in full bloom with colorful, magnificent flowers, quite unlike the season of late winter. Every single one of them was a flower cultivated in a greenhouse. It was obvious how much expense had gone into it.
‘Though the greatest expense likely went into the Statue of Roo.’
Duchess Illyn had donated a massive sum to the Holy See to have the Statue of Roo exhibited in Shaharansk.
The Statue of Roo would be pre-released to the citizens of the Empire at today's ball, kept in the holy hall for a week, and then exhibited in Shaharansk Square for two months. After that, it would be moved abroad again.
The time was 10 PM.
Even though the ball had only just begun, the heat of the hall could be felt from beyond the walls. After handing my name card to the attendant, while waiting for my turn to enter, Sergei leaned down and left a cringeworthy whisper in my ear.
“As I said before, it is an infinite honor that I am your first escort, Lara.”
“Seryozha, I appreciate the sentiment, but could you please not call me Lara? What if someone recognizes us?”
“Hmm, right... Lady Genevieve.”
Finally, our turn came.
“Sergei Ivanovich Nikitin of the House of Duke Nikitin, and Lady Ge—uh? Lady Genevieve Menola of the House of Menola have arrived.”
We slowly descended the oval staircase, which the ducal maids must have polished with all their heart and soul to a mirror-like sheen. The light of the magnificent chandeliers poured down, and for a moment, everyone's gaze shifted toward Sergei and me.
Though I could not see ahead, I felt it instantly through the gaze touching my skin and the temperature of the air. The looks scrutinizing me were thick with wariness and interest.
‘This is the first time I've received such blatant looks as a Princess.’
I was a bit nervous at first, but after taking a few steps down while holding Sergei's arm, excitement overtook the tension. It was a secret pleasure stemming from the fact that I was deceiving them all.
Attending a banquet under Sergei's escort comes with a great advantage and a great disadvantage simultaneously. The advantage is that no one, unless they are royalty, can treat me rudely. And the disadvantage is...
‘I'll attract an unnecessary amount of attention. I'll have to escape at the right moment.’
Sergei Ivanovich Nikitin.
Where should I begin when talking about this man?
Our connection is, if it can be called that, quite impressive.
Our first meeting, while not as intense as the one with Valentin, remained a special memory in its own right. This was because he was the first person Tatyana had pushed toward me as a husband candidate.
One sunny summer afternoon, when I was fourteen, I had been dragged out to the rear garden without so much as a brief explanation. The words Tatyana had whispered in a rapid-fire torrent while gripping my shoulders were still vivid in my mind.
[His name is Sergei Ivanovich Nikitin. He is the precious son of the House of Duke Nikitin and a boy exactly one year older than you. He smiles often, is generally kind, isn't the type to show off, and is very obedient. He's neither fox-like nor wolf-like, so it's easy to gauge his true intentions. Isn't he just perfect?]
[What is?]
[Go on. He's been waiting for you for a while. Be nice to him and don't act too much like a tomboy. Examine him thoroughly from every angle.]
[Examine what?]
[What else? Whether he is suitable as your husband.]
That was our first meeting.
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