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“You… *Sigh*. Who on earth do you take me for? Do you actually enjoy it when I worry about you? Well, knowing your personality, it wouldn't be surprising if you did. But Lara, there is a time and a place for such jokes…”
This oblivious brat! I pointedly pulled on Sergei's arm as he stood blocking my path. Then, pulling the part of his face I presumed to be his mouth close to mine, I issued a warning. I spoke in a low, small voice that barely reached his ears.
“Stop talking and go inside. I told you I’d tell you later. Can’t you see I’m serious right now? What are you going to do if I end up shattered into pieces because of you? Will you take responsibility? Are you going to play the role of the youngest princess of the Novarov Imperial Family in my stead? Will you take responsibility for protecting my siblings…?”
It happened in a very brief moment.
“Ugh.”
An irresistible, powerful grip seized my shoulder and forced me around. Before I had time to be surprised, another hand reached out and lifted my veil as if it were about to tear it apart.
The moment my eyes met those turquoise pupils piercing through the night air. In that instant, as a gaze that had lost its composure pressed in, scanning my forehead, nose, cheeks, chin, and lips as if to devour them all. I instinctively pulled my face away and could only part my lips in a dwindling voice.
“W-what is it? You’ve misunderstood on your own. I never introduced myself as Tanya…”
Only after the end of my sentence trembled slightly, contrary to my intention, did I realize belatedly. The fact that Valentin was wearing a white veil over his head.
The reason he had been able to stand back-to-back with me in a somewhat leisurely manner, without any interference, was precisely because of that opaque veil. Since one had to be this close to see his eyes, no one would have recognized his identity.
Valentin had disguised himself as a clergyman… no… of course, he actually belonged to the clergy, but it seemed certain that he had attended the ball while hiding his authority as Count Valentin. Considering that the garment he wore was a bishop's robe, it was certain.
“Ha.”
A short snort erupted right in front of me.
What did that snort mean? Was I ridiculous in this state? Or was he laughing at himself for mistaking me for Tatyana?
The veil that had been pulled up over my head fell back over my face. Valentin had clearly recognized me. However, his hand did not let go of me. It didn't loosen in the slightest.
A white bishop's robe symbolizing purity and faith.
A silver necklace with a pentagram design signifying temperance and integrity.
It should have been a combination that put one's mind at ease, but I felt no such thing. Far from calming down, my heart began to pound as if it were about to burst. I felt as though I were being pressed down by a stature that seemed a span taller than Sergei's.
“You. What do you think you are doing right now?”
Sergei grabbed Valentin's arm as if he were about to twist it off. He tried to push me back as if to protect me, but Valentin's hand didn't budge. Sergei glared at his hand with a look of displeasure and spoke again.
“Take your hand off her this instant. For a bishop to behave so rudely… have you lost your mind?”
“Sergei Ivanovich Nikitin.”
It was a call tinged with a faint sense of admiration.
I looked at Valentin with a surprised face. My question as to how he knew Sergei was who he was was quickly resolved. There had been quite a few days when I mentioned Sergei's name in the letters I sent to Valentin.
“I did want to see you once. So this is what you look like.”
“What?”
“Your attitude in protecting your partner is admirable. Additionally, by a strange coincidence, you have been a very great hindrance. It was such an appropriate distraction that I feel like applauding.”
Glaring at Valentin with an expression of absurdity, Sergei spoke in a much calmer voice.
“Stop spouting nonsense I can't understand and let go of her.”
Valentin responded in a voice emanating faint interest and composure, as if reacting to a childish provocation.
“When will Sir Sergei let go of that hand? I can't applaud while you're holding on like that.”
“You crazy bastard…!”
“Wait!”
What on earth are they doing? Are they insane? People who are supposed to be friends, in such an emergency… I didn't even have the heart to nag them. I moved close to Seryozha and whispered urgently.
“Calm down, Seryozha. Are you planning to let my identity be revealed right here? And you're the one who made a mistake. Please be quiet if you don't want to get hit.”
I'm about to be assassinated, and the problem is holding hands? This mindless brat. I twisted myself away from Valentin's grip.
“I'm sorry, Valentin. I apologize on Sergei's behalf. Now what do we do?”
Valentin looked silently at his empty hand before slowly lowering it and answering.
“Is there any other way? Other than running away with me.”
“Running away? Lara, who the hell is this crazy bishop?”
“I told you not to call me by my name. Fine, I've already taken off my shoes. I'm fully prepared. Where should we run to?”
“Dammit! I'm asking what the hell you're talking about!”
It happened almost simultaneously: Sergei grabbed my shoulder, and Valentin grabbed Sergei by the collar.
He roughly pulled Sergei forward in front of him. Then, he gently lifted the white veil—which had been flowing softly along his forehead and bridge of his nose—upward. So that his face could be clearly imprinted in Sergei's eyes. Unfortunately, it was an angle I couldn't see.
“Sergei Nikitin.”
“…Valentin Vladimirovich Dmitriev?”
“From now on, shut your mouth and listen.”
Valentin lowered the veil again. Even if it was for a short time, someone must have recognized Valentin's identity.
I scanned the surroundings with anxious eyes. As expected, those who had been resting in the garden were looking this way with surprised eyes. However, if I wasn't mistaken… the way they had frozen and focused on us felt somewhat unnatural.
“If Princess Larisa is assassinated, it will be because of you. I will report directly to His Majesty and make sure your head rolls under the guillotine like a tennis ball.”
“…What.”
“You don't seem to be the stupid type, so I'll say this only once. The Princess's life is being threatened. Thanks to you, she has come one step closer to death. Unless you want to knock down the gates of hell and smash them, wait here quietly like a rain-soaked dog.”
Sergei looked bewildered, but perhaps realizing the gravity of the situation, he voluntarily shut his mouth. In the meantime, Valentin's head turned smoothly toward me.
“Let us go. Ah, before that.”
He did not touch my body or pull me. He simply bent over and picked up one of the black shoes scattered on the grass. It was an utterly unexpected action. Turning the shoe this way and that to check the heel height, Valentin muttered as if to himself.
“It's surprising that one can walk wearing something like this.”
“…You said that for me to hear, didn't you?”
“No.”
Having retrieved the other shoe from under the bench, he placed both shoes neatly in front of me. Then, he slowly straightened his body and held out his hand to me.
Even without asking what his actions meant, it seemed clear. I hesitated for a moment, then took the hand he offered and, with his support, put on my shoes.
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