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Chapter 12
The imperial grand ballroom was, as always, excessively bright. A red carpet had been newly laid over the white marble, and the nobles lined up on both sides glanced at one another, conscious of each other’s presence.
“The Light of the Empire—His Majesty the Emperor and Her Majesty the Empress—enter!”
At the herald’s announcement, everyone bowed their heads. The inner doors opened, and Fabbiana and Liam walked in.
The two who, just moments ago, could barely stand being in the same space, now appeared before everyone as a perfectly affectionate imperial couple.
Scanning the nobles as if searching for someone, the Empress’s gaze stopped at one spot. Kalix, standing casually in a corner of the hall, came into view.
*’Kalix……!’*
In the time they hadn’t seen each other, he had transformed from a merely beautiful boy into a fully grown man.
Since returning alive from the battlefield, he had not once shown himself before her, and every private meeting she had requested had been rejected.
On one hand, Fabbiana felt a slight sting of resentment. To think she had to hear news of him—the man who wouldn’t even show his face—through a cheap gossip rag.
*Today, I finally get to see that woman’s face.* Fabbiana immediately waved her hand at the herald.
“Let them in.”
“Let the debutante ball begin!”
—
***
In the narrow corridor, several young ladies sat in a row, waiting for their turn to enter. Though it was a waiting area, the chairs were spaced far apart, and an awkward silence hung in the air.
Odellia sat in the furthest corner. Her back was straight, but her fingertips were damp with sweat. Her hands, resting on her dress hem, fidgeted restlessly. Rolling her fan idly in her hands, she rehearsed under her breath the sequence of actions she needed to perform upon entering the audience chamber.
*’Spread the fan while lifting the dress hem and bow—they might as well have told me to use a spear and shield at the same time.’*
Over the past few months, she had somewhat mastered dancing and memorized noble titles well enough, but oddly enough, she had never once received the Duchess’s “that’s good enough” regarding the greeting she would show the Empress during the debutante ball.
She had taken more than ten deep breaths, but the air still wouldn’t fill her lungs. Through the crack in the open door, the bright light of the ballroom spilled out.
As the heralds called out names, groups went in one by one—and among them, some ruined their audience and were carried out in tears, or overcome by extreme tension. Watching that, Odellia couldn’t help but feel nervous.
Letting out a breath, Odellia opened and closed her sweaty palms and absently lifted her head. Her eyes met those of the others.
The moment their gazes met, they quickly turned their heads forward again, whispering among themselves and stealing glances at her. The difference in age, background, and history from the others was likely the cause.
Just then, someone among the young ladies spoke to her.
“How have you been?”
“Lady Yudith.”
“You remember me?”
“Yes. We met at Her Grace the Duchess’s banquet. How could I possibly forget you, Lady Yudith?”
Yudith felt her face grow warm and quickly unfurled her fan to cover her face slightly.
“You certainly know how to make a person’s heart flutter.”
“Lord Montegue hasn’t been up to any mischief since then, has he?”
“No, they say he hasn’t even been able to hold his head up since that day. Honestly…… how satisfying it was!”
*It was so refreshing, wasn’t it? I was sorry we couldn’t talk properly that day, so I’m glad to meet you like this.* Her face, beaming with a bright smile, was a far cry from the aloof attitude she’d shown before.
“We’ll be able to see each other often from now on, right? I believe your townhouse is near Rubel Street…… Our family’s townhouse is nearby too. A bit of a distance, but still. Later, I was thinking of gathering the ladies in the neighborhood for a tea party—please join us then.”
At her unreserved attitude, Odellia was inwardly surprised but cautiously nodded.
“……If you invite me, I’d be grateful.”
Perhaps because Yudith had spoken first, those who had been stealing glances at the two began to address Odellia one by one.
“I heard His Highness the Crown Prince is your patron?”
“They say you really did go to the battlefield!”
“That’s right, that’s right! You actually fought with real weapons? Wow…… you’re like a mythical warrior.”
The questions came one after another. It wasn’t mere curiosity—it was a small gesture of goodwill, each in their own way. Though she had been unable to relax, Odellia hesitated at first but then answered calmly. She wasn’t talkative, but she didn’t hold back her replies.
The atmosphere gradually softened. The voices, the expressions. Faces that had seemed unfamiliar just moments ago began to grow distinct, one by one.
At that moment, a sharp, clear voice cut through the air of the corridor like a blade.
“Everyone seems quite at ease.”
A tall, upright figure rose and cast a cold gaze over the assembly.
“Here we are, about to have an audience with Their Majesties, and you’re chattering away with such ill manners. I suppose this is the level of resolve you bring to your debutante ball.”
The atmosphere froze instantly. As if doused with cold water, laughter and chatter vanished. Odellia also turned her head to look at her.
“I apologize for the disturbance. I became talkative to ease my own nerves.”
The moment their eyes met, the woman let out a *hmph* and turned her gaze away, as if she had no further business with her. *”What’s with that manly way of speaking?”* she muttered under her breath.
“Excuse me, but we’re allowed to have a little conversation to calm our nerves—it’s not like we’re being led to slaughter. There’s no need to be so solemn or gloomy.”
But Yudith didn’t back down.
“L-Lady Herdel. No, it’s my fault. My voice was too loud.”
Odellia tried to hurriedly stop Yudith, but she paid no mind and continued in a sharp, yapping voice, like a Pomeranian.
“So sweet and pleasant to listen to—what’s there to criticize? And who was it that sang so loudly, saying she’d show off before Her Majesty the Empress? It wasn’t exactly a nightingale’s song, if I recall.”
The woman who had scolded Odellia turned crimson.
“Excuse me, Lady Herdel! Why have you suddenly changed your attitude—”
“I have every right to change. Back then, I was ignorant and misunderstood, so I was spiteful. Now, I know I was wrong.”
Yudith whipped her head around to look at Odellia, then flashed a warm, lovely smile. With a look that seemed to say, *Didn’t I do well?* Odellia answered with an awkward smile of her own.
The group that had scolded Odellia let out exasperated huffs, but they could no longer voice their complaints.
Odellia simply kept smiling awkwardly, trying to smooth things over.
—
***
Whenever the herald, wearing a white wig and powdered face, called out a name in a booming voice, both doors opened simultaneously, and with grand music, each group entered.
The daughter of House Vordeaux, the daughter of Count Herold, the granddaughter of Marquis Estrale—
The value of the dress caught the eye before the face. The fabric was embroidered with gold thread, studded with jewels here and there, and the ornaments around their necks were worth enough to support three lifetimes.
The Empress glanced over each face, offered a vague smile, and tossed out a word or two. Though young, they all carried the fresh vitality of budding green shoots—but none possessed the full-blown splendor like hers. Of course not.
“Well-raised.”
“Radiant.”
“……Yes, next.”
With a voice that could have been praise or a mechanical drone, she continued offering half-hearted compliments to dozens of young ladies. Fabbiana wanted to see Odellia’s face as soon as possible.
Whether Liam beside her was leering at the young ladies with salacious eyes or not, Fabbiana’s gaze once again shifted toward Kalix, who stood slightly apart from the crowd.
He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, as if uninterested in all this farce.
In the corner of the ballroom, Kalix’s eyes were utterly indifferent. The splendor of the dresses, the formal greetings, the hollow smiles—all were mere meaningless noise.
“Now, the final group! Lady Helena of House Britten, Lady Selena of House Pierce, Lady Callia of House Yerene, and…… Lady Odellia, of no house!”
The moment *”Lady Odellia, of no house”* rang out, Kalix instinctively turned his head toward the doorway.
Emotion flickered across Kalix’s usually expressionless face. Fabbiana, witnessing this, felt her expression turn icy cold.
The moment that had been nothing but tedious seemed to stop—his vision moved in slow motion.
The white marble doors opened on both sides, and Odellia walked in.
The soft satin of her dress rustled at her feet, a streak of light flashed as metal ornaments reflected the sunlight, and Odellia’s steps slowly crossed the hall.
The music, the crowd’s noise—all faded for Kalix. It was as if only her footsteps and breath could be heard, clear and vivid.
