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No matter what pranks I played, he never raised his voice—though he did grumble—and when I teased him to call me 'Captain,' he obediently called me 'Captain.'
We were each other's best friends. Of course, Sergei had many more and more diverse friends than just me.
A husband. I can't even imagine such a thing now. Sergei asked me in a low voice.
"Genevieve, which country did you say you came from?"
"The Kingdom of Etrang."
"Do you speak the language of that country?"
"In my family, knowing five languages is considered basic refinement."
The moment we stepped off the stairs, people swarmed toward us. Among them, the first to approach would naturally be the host of this event, Duchess Illyn.
"Sir Sergei, thank you for attending the ball. I feel as though your magnificent appearance has raised the standard of today's ball by a notch."
"You flatter me. The one whose appearance raises the standard of this place is the person standing before me, Duchess Illyn."
"You are quite the smooth talker for someone so young."
See, I told you, right?
"This is Miss Genevieve Menola, the younger sister of my friend's cousin's wife, who has come from the Kingdom of Etrang. She has suffered a tragedy recently but is slowly getting back on her feet. I hope today's ball will be a good opportunity for her, so I took the liberty of bringing her along."
"Oh! My goodness. Please don't say that, Sir Sergei. A friend of yours is always welcome. Lady Menola, you are going through a great ordeal. No matter how many times one experiences it, one never grows accustomed to parting. I hope today's ball provides some comfort to you, Lady Menola."
"My Ohalla language is very lacking. I can understand it, but..."
"Oh, is that so? Ah! There goes my daughter."
Starting with Duchess Illyn subtly pivoting to introduce her daughter, young ladies and noblewomen began to approach me one after another.
Just as Fedora had testified that Ohallans were meddlesome, those who approached offered me greetings and condolences.
Many of them hugged my shoulders or held and stroked my hand, and some even recited short prayers. If I had actually been in mourning, I might have felt grateful. But having to repeat insincere gestures a dozen times was simply tedious.
Unlike me, Sergei's expression as he dealt with the crowd was utterly relaxed.
'There is no one more popular in society than the eldest son of a wealthy noble family.'
Though decades had passed since the abolition of the primogeniture system, some classes, including the high nobility, still adhered to the practice of inheriting through the eldest son. Since such families left absolutely nothing to the sons and daughters below the eldest, all the honor and wealth of the family inevitably became the property of the firstborn.
Every noblewoman in society hoped her daughter would be paired with the eldest or only son of a family that maintained this antiquated inheritance system. That way, she could spend a peaceful and wealthy old age without getting embroiled in a blood-splattered inheritance war.
"Seryozha, excuse me for a moment..."
I signaled to the hesitating Sergei that it was fine and moved toward the wall of the hall. Then, hiding behind a pillar, I carefully lifted my lace and stepped out into the main exhibition hall where the Statue of Roo was displayed.
'This is the famous progenitor of the prophets?'
I examined the statue with a slightly disappointed gaze.
The statue, depicting a wandering old man, stood with hands neatly folded, looking down at the floor.
The wrinkles carved into the face and hands were meticulous. It was a statue that clearly showcased the sculptor's outstanding skill.
However, having traveled all over the continent for hundreds of years, the statue was mottled in places, despite being made of marble. There were many chipped areas, and three of the ten fingers were missing. Unlike the statues displayed in other holy halls, its size was only slightly larger than my own height.
'Well, appearance isn't what's important. If anything, the sense of passing time makes it look more wonderful.'
There was something else that mattered.
Specifically, the three blue jewels said to be embedded in the statue's forehead. Their name was the jewels of the proph...
'...Wait, what?'
Why are the jewels gone?
With a feeling of profound bewilderment, I examined the statue's forehead more closely. They weren't there. Far from having three elegant turquoise crystals embedded, there were only three small holes.
'No way.'
I bent my waist and read the description located beneath the statue carefully.
<...It is unclear when or where the jewels of the prophet were lost. The most recent record is from 150 years ago, suggesting they were lost during the process of being moved from the hotloy family to the Papacy...>
They were gone from the start. They disappeared 150 years ago.
'Sigh. I should have researched more before coming.'
If this is the case, there's no reason for the hardship I went through to come all the way down to Shaharansk. I even deceived my mother and Tatyana to attend this ball. It was all for nothing.
I lingered around the statue with a lingering sense of regret before returning to the ballroom. As I watched people with vacant eyes, I discovered one major problem with the ball.
'Why can't I see Valentin?'
Wasn't this a ball that had drawn everyone's attention by spreading the news everywhere that Valentin would be coming? I pricked up my ears and focused all my hearing on the conversations of the people passing by.
"I wonder when our famous prophet will show himself."
"You mean Count Nariyan? I heard he's nowhere to be found, no matter how much people look."
"The protagonist always arrives last, after all."
"I heard he dislikes standing out. Perhaps he came quietly and is hiding. That's usually how timid people are, isn't it?"
"Goodness, don't even joke about that. If he's a man who would hide in a mouse hole at a ball, everyone here will be disappointed!"
'It's okay, there's no need to be disappointed.'
Valentin is not the type of person to hide in a mouse hole at a ball. In that case, has he really not arrived yet? Or perhaps he withdrew his attendance.
Suddenly, all my energy drained away. I had gone through so much trouble—wearing high heels to increase my height, wearing a white veil I'd probably never use again in my life, and even pretending to be a foreigner.
'I didn't see the jewels, nor did I see Valentin.'
Less than thirty minutes into the ball, I was already exhausted.
'When I was young, I was immersed in fantasies about balls. Now that I've experienced it, it's not all that.'
Moreover, the feeling of being jostled by this person and that person wasn't particularly pleasant. Was it because I'm not a very sociable person? Despite it being a relatively large building, the interior of Illyn House was crowded with people wherever I moved.
I found a nearby bench and sank into the seat. Then, I secretly slipped off my shoes beneath the hem of my dress and placed my tingling toes on the grass.
"Ah, I can breathe now."
I was right to push them away. After sitting blankly for a few minutes, my unpleasant mood began to lift slightly.
Before long, I saw other people who, like me, felt the fatigue of the banquet coming out to the garden to rest. I felt the presence of someone sitting on the bench behind me, but I ignored it. Anyway, right now I am a mourning foreigner, and since I had lowered my veil to my chest, any consolation would end in a few words...
"Your Imperial Highness."
"..."
"Stay still and do not move. That is, if you do not wish to reveal your noble status to everyone in this mansion."
As he said, I could not show any reaction.
This voice.
If I wasn't mistaken, it was a voice I knew.
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